Wow. What a whirlwind of a year. 2016 is upon us. For like three and a half months now. The dawn of a new era, it is officially the future. In fact, we are actually past "Back to the Future" day, so who knows what is to come at this point. No one has ever creatively or imaginatively thought what life in 2016 would hold. I personally thought the world was going to end with the Mayan calendar back in 2012(?) so I live everyday by the seat of my pants at this point.
We may not know when John is finally going to get a hovering skateboard (and then have to build a hovering mini-ramp), but what we do know is what your favorite men of Willard are up to, wherever they may be.
Evan "BUG" Underwood: Everyone's favorite redneck (Sorry Norty), Evan moved out to the land of hippies and granola, California. Hitting the beach with his "Brahs" and working for the man (Apple), Evan has reached a level of zen with his work/play balance that used to be only dreamt of. (and even then, it was only dreamt of when wearing a specialized dreaming crystal).
Jackson "Zebra Pants" Strawn: Wythe County wouldn't run without Jackson Strawn. Wait...Scratch that, I meant Wythe County Young Life. Though if you think about it, technically with one less resident Wytheville, all the businesses would struggle to stay open since they are currently at minimum operational capacity with the number of people willing to live that close to the highway. So, actually, without Jackson Strawn, the county itself would fall apart. Unless Kimmie started eating his share of McDonalds, and that is both impossible and irresponsible.
Sam "Check The Number On The Whiteboard" Bowman: Mowing Grass and Making Stacks, Sam is the quintessential "Young Professional" doing cool things like going to opening day amateur baseball games, working a 9-5 job (sometimes earlier and later) and wearing Warby Parker glasses. When I last saw Sam, he had discovered a new lawn game called "Koob" and was insistent on how glorious it was.
John "Street Artist" Carr: Still hipster as sh*t, John and his wife Stef are keepin' it sleepy in the Burg. Strongly abrasive and as independent as ever, John recently got into a shouting match with an hourly employee over posted closing times, jerry-rigged a sprinkler system out of run-off from the grocery store, and hung up wine bottles around his office to make it more aesthetically pleasing.
Jeremy "The Real Engineer" Mateyk: The dirty, dirty north has taken Jeremy completely. Stranded like an iceberg drifting in the middle of the Arctic ocean, the cold clutches of the icy climate rake against his sanity. Other than that though, he is doing great, and if you're looking to buy a hardy, American-made automobile with a personal promise of satisfaction-or-your-money-back guarantee from the chassis design man himself, you should look at purchasing the 2019 Ford Explorer!
Joe "The Unknown Biker" Danehower: Joe got a girlfriend he met on Instagram, and will be my best man this summer.
James "Grunge" Harris: Nearing the completion of his final year of Divinity School, a bundle of life changes are hurtling toward me: graduation, marriage, moving, starting a job, and perhaps being a cat-father. I also managed to put back on all the weight I lost at Air Force training last summer, and will get to drop it all again in preparation for this year.
Doug "Beard" Clelland: On the AT
Beyond Blacksburg: The lives of the men who once lived in a home called Willard.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Saturday, June 13, 2015
2015 Willard House Update
Where to begin? So much has changed since the last blog updating on our situations. I guess I'll start where everything started, with Bug.
Evan "BUG" Underwood: A drifter of sorts, Evan wanders from town to town, enhancing building projects wherever he goes. Still working as a project manager for a large conglomerate, he has recently been taking in the sights and sounds of the great west (according to Facebook at least). He also moved to Pennsylvania, and lives in a yellow house.
Jackson "Zebra Pants" Strawn: Still working for Young Life in the sleepy borough of Wytheville, VA, Jackson lives the good life with his wife and best friend Kimmie "Frozen" Strawn. When questioned about things he likes to do living in Wytheville, the words "Netflix" and "McDonalds" came up an average of every fifth word.
Sam "It Was 30" Bowman: After a tumultuous season of life living on Capitol Hill and serving as the real life story of the New Jersey Congressman in "House of Cards" (Season 1), Sam decided to leave the fast-paced DC scene and head to Virginia Beach, where he seeks to find his fortune creating a reality show called, "Virginia Shore."
John "Street Artist" Carr: Still hipster as sh*t, John and his wife Stef are on Young Life staff in Harrisonburg, VA. In a strange turn of events, somehow Young Life paid for John to go to Greek for a two week vaca-work trip with his mentor Justin "Horse" Ryder. In the coming months, expect there to be a "60 Minutes" report on non-profits abusive spending habits with pictures of John in a red beanie lounging in a hot spring somewhere in Iceland.
Jeremy "The Real Engineer" Mateyk: Working as an engineer at Ford, Jeremy enjoys the finer things in life, like getting to drive gigantic Ford trucks around as part of "testing" them. He is dating one Charlotte "Only Trade Me" Wheat, who is also an engineer. They spend their time talking about things like heat transfer, fluid dynamics, and those oh-so-sexy fuel-injected engines.
Joe "The Unknown Biker" Danehower: Holding it down in South Carolina, Joe works as a kind-of engineer at some place that isn't Ford. He spends his day holed up in a cubicle, and his nights wearing khaki shorts and a polo with sleeves rolled up and unbuttoned, walking down moonlit beaches.
James "Grunge" Harris: In an unforeseen turn of events, I joined the Air Force and am currently doing Commissioned Officer Training at Maxwell AFB in Alabama. Next year I will be back in the Dash, and my lovely fiance will be moving to Winston-Salem as well.
Doug "Beard" Clelland: On the AT
Evan "BUG" Underwood: A drifter of sorts, Evan wanders from town to town, enhancing building projects wherever he goes. Still working as a project manager for a large conglomerate, he has recently been taking in the sights and sounds of the great west (according to Facebook at least). He also moved to Pennsylvania, and lives in a yellow house.
Jackson "Zebra Pants" Strawn: Still working for Young Life in the sleepy borough of Wytheville, VA, Jackson lives the good life with his wife and best friend Kimmie "Frozen" Strawn. When questioned about things he likes to do living in Wytheville, the words "Netflix" and "McDonalds" came up an average of every fifth word.
Sam "It Was 30" Bowman: After a tumultuous season of life living on Capitol Hill and serving as the real life story of the New Jersey Congressman in "House of Cards" (Season 1), Sam decided to leave the fast-paced DC scene and head to Virginia Beach, where he seeks to find his fortune creating a reality show called, "Virginia Shore."
John "Street Artist" Carr: Still hipster as sh*t, John and his wife Stef are on Young Life staff in Harrisonburg, VA. In a strange turn of events, somehow Young Life paid for John to go to Greek for a two week vaca-work trip with his mentor Justin "Horse" Ryder. In the coming months, expect there to be a "60 Minutes" report on non-profits abusive spending habits with pictures of John in a red beanie lounging in a hot spring somewhere in Iceland.
Jeremy "The Real Engineer" Mateyk: Working as an engineer at Ford, Jeremy enjoys the finer things in life, like getting to drive gigantic Ford trucks around as part of "testing" them. He is dating one Charlotte "Only Trade Me" Wheat, who is also an engineer. They spend their time talking about things like heat transfer, fluid dynamics, and those oh-so-sexy fuel-injected engines.
Joe "The Unknown Biker" Danehower: Holding it down in South Carolina, Joe works as a kind-of engineer at some place that isn't Ford. He spends his day holed up in a cubicle, and his nights wearing khaki shorts and a polo with sleeves rolled up and unbuttoned, walking down moonlit beaches.
James "Grunge" Harris: In an unforeseen turn of events, I joined the Air Force and am currently doing Commissioned Officer Training at Maxwell AFB in Alabama. Next year I will be back in the Dash, and my lovely fiance will be moving to Winston-Salem as well.
Doug "Beard" Clelland: On the AT
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
A Day in the Life of Evan Underwood; the Sportsman
5:30 AM: My alarm goes off. Generally, I sleep soundly through things like alarms or things being drawn on my body. Luckily, the sound of a white-tail buck call always awakens me with earnestness. I take my dip out and turn on the latest Iron & Wine album. I studiously unroll my yoga mat.
6 AM; After my brief yoga session, I sit down on the porch with a hot cup of coffee. I watch the birds flit beautifully through the trees. My heart soars with them as they glide on wings of gold and brown. I smile to myself as I listen to them welcome the day with a symphony of chirps and calls. I wish I could join them. Their spirits are more profound than those of my fellow human beings.
6:30 AM: I put on my steel-toed boots, knife, and hard hat. It's Thomas time.
6:35 AM: I get in my new Toyota Tacoma and briefly chastise myself for getting a vehicle not made in the US of A.
6:36 AM: I put a dip in.
7 AM: After arriving at work, I review the blueprints of our site. In a thick southern accent, I briefly assure my supervisor that the current phase of construction will be completed in time. ("10-4 chief, we'll getter done!") I take a glance at the weather report for the day. It looks like good fishing weather...
9 AM: I put a dip in.
12 PM: Driving to a nearby pond, I cast a line into the water. I contentedly munch on a sandwich of deer tenderloin. Finished with my meal, and having no luck on the water, I soothe my dry, cracked throat with an ice cold PBR. I smack my lips with satisfaction and return to the job site.
2 PM: I put a dip in.
5 PM: Bidding adieu to my coworkers ("See y'all tommora") I drive to Leland Pearson's land outside of Leesburg. I check my game cameras to see if there are any big bucks in the area. This could be my lucky year! There is a massive 4 pointer on the film. If I bag him, this will easily be the largest deer I have ever killed. I chuckle to myself at finally besting Sam Bowman in the arts of hunting. That guy is such a prick.
6 PM: On the drive home I listen to The Avett Brothers.
6:01 PM: I put a dip in.
6:30 PM: I arrive home and prepare a meal of grilled asparagus, squash, and squirrel stew. I look up and see a dove in the pine tree outside. I quickly grab my shotgun. I calm my racing heart and steady the barrel. With a quick and decisive shot, I take down my quarry. I breathe slowly through my nose. Nothing soothes me like the thrill of the hunt.
7 PM: Humming softly to myself, I delicately skin my dove. This is certainly a good sign of things to come.
8 PM: I drink a few IPAs and watch Wedding Crashers.
10 PM: I put a dip in.
10:01 PM: Crawling into bed, I snuggle up with my blankets. Almost forgetting, I take off my lucky talisman and put it quietly by my bed. I slowly drift off to sleep counting deer.
10:04 PM: I dream of Chud.
6 AM; After my brief yoga session, I sit down on the porch with a hot cup of coffee. I watch the birds flit beautifully through the trees. My heart soars with them as they glide on wings of gold and brown. I smile to myself as I listen to them welcome the day with a symphony of chirps and calls. I wish I could join them. Their spirits are more profound than those of my fellow human beings.
6:30 AM: I put on my steel-toed boots, knife, and hard hat. It's Thomas time.
6:35 AM: I get in my new Toyota Tacoma and briefly chastise myself for getting a vehicle not made in the US of A.
6:36 AM: I put a dip in.
7 AM: After arriving at work, I review the blueprints of our site. In a thick southern accent, I briefly assure my supervisor that the current phase of construction will be completed in time. ("10-4 chief, we'll getter done!") I take a glance at the weather report for the day. It looks like good fishing weather...
9 AM: I put a dip in.
12 PM: Driving to a nearby pond, I cast a line into the water. I contentedly munch on a sandwich of deer tenderloin. Finished with my meal, and having no luck on the water, I soothe my dry, cracked throat with an ice cold PBR. I smack my lips with satisfaction and return to the job site.
2 PM: I put a dip in.
5 PM: Bidding adieu to my coworkers ("See y'all tommora") I drive to Leland Pearson's land outside of Leesburg. I check my game cameras to see if there are any big bucks in the area. This could be my lucky year! There is a massive 4 pointer on the film. If I bag him, this will easily be the largest deer I have ever killed. I chuckle to myself at finally besting Sam Bowman in the arts of hunting. That guy is such a prick.
6 PM: On the drive home I listen to The Avett Brothers.
6:01 PM: I put a dip in.
6:30 PM: I arrive home and prepare a meal of grilled asparagus, squash, and squirrel stew. I look up and see a dove in the pine tree outside. I quickly grab my shotgun. I calm my racing heart and steady the barrel. With a quick and decisive shot, I take down my quarry. I breathe slowly through my nose. Nothing soothes me like the thrill of the hunt.
7 PM: Humming softly to myself, I delicately skin my dove. This is certainly a good sign of things to come.
8 PM: I drink a few IPAs and watch Wedding Crashers.
10 PM: I put a dip in.
10:01 PM: Crawling into bed, I snuggle up with my blankets. Almost forgetting, I take off my lucky talisman and put it quietly by my bed. I slowly drift off to sleep counting deer.
10:04 PM: I dream of Chud.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
A Day in the Life of Jeremy Mateyk: The Engineer
4:30 AM: I don't sleep anymore. Similar to the terminator, ever since I moved to the North I find that I don't need to rest. I don't run off the same fuel that powered Arnold, but it's something close. All these fumes have chemically altered my body.
5:00 AM: I stand in front of my house and stare out across the snowy expanse. The cold wind brings what I guess could be considered a smile to my face. Such things as "happiness" and "joy" don't necessarily exist here, but it is a shadow of what smiling was like in Virginia. What a strange world it is below the Mason-Dixon line. Though I am overjoyed (or whatever the right emotion is) to be gone from there, at times... I... hmph. Nevermind.
6:30 AM: I put on my lab coat and head to the factory. I stand in perfect unison with the other Ford employees for morning inspection. Although many believe it to be gone, Fordinization of the worker is not just a history lesson, but alive and well. I am not referenced by my name, but only my number: Engineer 87206. I do not know my co-workers names, nor do I wish to. It is better this way. I begin my work on chassis design and remember the way Joe used to struggle through ESM. These feelings inside me... I can't...
9 AM: My supervisor comes over and gives me satisfactory marks for the morning. I sit in my eating pod and ingest the breakfast nutrients that are provided to keep my brain working at full capacity.
9:30: I receive a text from Samuel Jacob Bowman. My heart hurts. Today is a strange day indeed. Instead of returning to my work station, I sneak down to the bathroom and risk a text in the GroupMe app to my former roommates. A real smile comes to my face. What's happening to me?
High Noon: We are all gathered outside for a message from our President, CEO and Founder Henry Ford. Cryogenically frozen for years in his backyard tundra, he has recently been awakened and retaken the helm of his brainchild. He announces that we are going to be merging with McDonalds and Walmart in a massive merger. Something in the back of my mind makes me feel uneasy...
12:30 PM: I have been reassigned to the droid division. I am now in charge of making/commanding a battalion of battle-ready droids to invade the South. At first I am honored by this new assignment. But then the faces of all those I love in the south go through my head. Vinny, James, Big Mike, Bratwurst, Vinnie. I can't do this.
1:13 PM: I have come up with a plan. Engineer 87206 will not be the part of an evil plot to control the South under the cold northern regime. I re-engineer my battle-bots to my specifications.
1:15 PM: I work super fast. My newly programmed battalion and I break into the headquarters of the formerly cryogenically frozen Henry Ford. He and I have an intense battle of wits, play a few games of logic, sell some bluffs, and have a staring contest before I finally wrest control of Ford from him.
2:00 PM: I call all employees to the Courtyard. I introduce myself as new CEO, and then implement a smattering of new rules, including, but not limited to: Name use, Settlers of Catan Wednesdays, Chicken quesadilla Tuesdays, etc. etc.
3:00 PM: I am able to quell a rebellion of the last of Henry's followers, and start a new green energy campaign.
3:15 PM: I sit in my new office, overlooking the smiling, happy Ford employees. Part of me is thrilled, yes, but part of me is still sad. Sad because my heart and my soul belongs in the South, with the ones I love.
3:30 PM: I pick a random employee to be standing CEO while I take my leave of absence.
4:00 PM: My batallion of droids carries me to the South, where I collect my former roommates and we have a lovely dinner together at Sycamore Deli. Jimmy Fitch is performing.
8:00 PM: We sit outside the Willard house and reminisce. The droids laugh at the stories we tell about killing mice with machetes, and John breaking glass all over Sam's couch.
8:30 PM: I carry Bug into bed from the mini-ramp out back.
9:30 PM: I bid my friends farewell, and head back to the dirty tundra known as Detroit. Although I may live in the Northern Hemisphere, no longer will I be restrained by the emotionless grip that this culture tries to impose. I may be a northerner by birth, but I'm a Virginian in my heart.
10:00 PM: I fall asleep.
10:03 PM: I dream of Chud.
5:00 AM: I stand in front of my house and stare out across the snowy expanse. The cold wind brings what I guess could be considered a smile to my face. Such things as "happiness" and "joy" don't necessarily exist here, but it is a shadow of what smiling was like in Virginia. What a strange world it is below the Mason-Dixon line. Though I am overjoyed (or whatever the right emotion is) to be gone from there, at times... I... hmph. Nevermind.
6:30 AM: I put on my lab coat and head to the factory. I stand in perfect unison with the other Ford employees for morning inspection. Although many believe it to be gone, Fordinization of the worker is not just a history lesson, but alive and well. I am not referenced by my name, but only my number: Engineer 87206. I do not know my co-workers names, nor do I wish to. It is better this way. I begin my work on chassis design and remember the way Joe used to struggle through ESM. These feelings inside me... I can't...
9 AM: My supervisor comes over and gives me satisfactory marks for the morning. I sit in my eating pod and ingest the breakfast nutrients that are provided to keep my brain working at full capacity.
9:30: I receive a text from Samuel Jacob Bowman. My heart hurts. Today is a strange day indeed. Instead of returning to my work station, I sneak down to the bathroom and risk a text in the GroupMe app to my former roommates. A real smile comes to my face. What's happening to me?
High Noon: We are all gathered outside for a message from our President, CEO and Founder Henry Ford. Cryogenically frozen for years in his backyard tundra, he has recently been awakened and retaken the helm of his brainchild. He announces that we are going to be merging with McDonalds and Walmart in a massive merger. Something in the back of my mind makes me feel uneasy...
12:30 PM: I have been reassigned to the droid division. I am now in charge of making/commanding a battalion of battle-ready droids to invade the South. At first I am honored by this new assignment. But then the faces of all those I love in the south go through my head. Vinny, James, Big Mike, Bratwurst, Vinnie. I can't do this.
1:13 PM: I have come up with a plan. Engineer 87206 will not be the part of an evil plot to control the South under the cold northern regime. I re-engineer my battle-bots to my specifications.
1:15 PM: I work super fast. My newly programmed battalion and I break into the headquarters of the formerly cryogenically frozen Henry Ford. He and I have an intense battle of wits, play a few games of logic, sell some bluffs, and have a staring contest before I finally wrest control of Ford from him.
2:00 PM: I call all employees to the Courtyard. I introduce myself as new CEO, and then implement a smattering of new rules, including, but not limited to: Name use, Settlers of Catan Wednesdays, Chicken quesadilla Tuesdays, etc. etc.
3:00 PM: I am able to quell a rebellion of the last of Henry's followers, and start a new green energy campaign.
3:15 PM: I sit in my new office, overlooking the smiling, happy Ford employees. Part of me is thrilled, yes, but part of me is still sad. Sad because my heart and my soul belongs in the South, with the ones I love.
3:30 PM: I pick a random employee to be standing CEO while I take my leave of absence.
4:00 PM: My batallion of droids carries me to the South, where I collect my former roommates and we have a lovely dinner together at Sycamore Deli. Jimmy Fitch is performing.
8:00 PM: We sit outside the Willard house and reminisce. The droids laugh at the stories we tell about killing mice with machetes, and John breaking glass all over Sam's couch.
8:30 PM: I carry Bug into bed from the mini-ramp out back.
9:30 PM: I bid my friends farewell, and head back to the dirty tundra known as Detroit. Although I may live in the Northern Hemisphere, no longer will I be restrained by the emotionless grip that this culture tries to impose. I may be a northerner by birth, but I'm a Virginian in my heart.
10:00 PM: I fall asleep.
10:03 PM: I dream of Chud.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
A Day in the Life of James Harris: Winston-Salem aka "The Dash"
7 AM: My alarm goes off. I roll over and think about getting up.
8:14 AM: My alarm goes off again. I had a feeling the first wasn't gonna work. I roll out of bed taking my favorite quilt with me. It's tattered, worn and holds my scent deep within the stitches. Sam would always insist the quilt was his, but after 3+ years of wrapping that thing around my sometimes bare body, he eventually gave up.
9:05 AM: After flexing my thighs in the mirror and throwing large chunks of meat in the crock pot for later, I head to class. I pick up flowers on the way for my professor in hopes of bumping up my course grade. Some say I'm a brown noser, I just think I'm innovative.
10:15 AM: Seminary. I pride myself in being well read in anything from Bonhoeffer to preteen vampire novels. You never know where those sermon nuggets are hiding, and one day when I'm an Air Force chaplain, a metaphor involving "Teen Wolf" may be just what I need to inspire the troops.
12:31 PM: Done with class for the day. We had some interesting discussion about the gender of God, and whether or not He(or She) actually exists. I reached into my broad literary background(see above) and made a couple fiery and well-informed arguments, but mostly spent my time blogging about my old roommates and reading Onion articles.
1:01 PM: Back home, and ready for a quick nap. I grab my quilt(again see above), and send off a few snap chats before firing up Jackson's netflix account and watching Game of Thrones as I fade in and out of sleep...
2:34 PM: I wake up just in time to head up to the high school. I'm on student staff with Young Life now, so that's pretty neat. Can't wait to pull out "Tony Salvatore Migliore the Doctor of Amore" at Valentine's day club this week.
4:34: Heading to martial arts class. Now that I'm going to be a military man, I figured its time to tap my black belt potential and get the most out of these broad shoulders. Back in the day Joe and I had a few spur of the moment wrestling matches in the old Willard kitchen. He thinks he won, just like he thinks he could beat me in Super Smash Bros. As I practice my high legs kicks and body slams in the dojo, I think of nothing but proving him wrong.
6:37 PM: Time to refuel after a solid workout. I crack open the crock pot, instagram my newest culinary masterpiece and dig in. I've become a pretty good cook these days, only lean meats and organic veggies for this guy.
8:14 AM: My alarm goes off again. I had a feeling the first wasn't gonna work. I roll out of bed taking my favorite quilt with me. It's tattered, worn and holds my scent deep within the stitches. Sam would always insist the quilt was his, but after 3+ years of wrapping that thing around my sometimes bare body, he eventually gave up.
9:05 AM: After flexing my thighs in the mirror and throwing large chunks of meat in the crock pot for later, I head to class. I pick up flowers on the way for my professor in hopes of bumping up my course grade. Some say I'm a brown noser, I just think I'm innovative.
10:15 AM: Seminary. I pride myself in being well read in anything from Bonhoeffer to preteen vampire novels. You never know where those sermon nuggets are hiding, and one day when I'm an Air Force chaplain, a metaphor involving "Teen Wolf" may be just what I need to inspire the troops.
12:31 PM: Done with class for the day. We had some interesting discussion about the gender of God, and whether or not He(or She) actually exists. I reached into my broad literary background(see above) and made a couple fiery and well-informed arguments, but mostly spent my time blogging about my old roommates and reading Onion articles.
1:01 PM: Back home, and ready for a quick nap. I grab my quilt(again see above), and send off a few snap chats before firing up Jackson's netflix account and watching Game of Thrones as I fade in and out of sleep...
2:34 PM: I wake up just in time to head up to the high school. I'm on student staff with Young Life now, so that's pretty neat. Can't wait to pull out "Tony Salvatore Migliore the Doctor of Amore" at Valentine's day club this week.
4:34: Heading to martial arts class. Now that I'm going to be a military man, I figured its time to tap my black belt potential and get the most out of these broad shoulders. Back in the day Joe and I had a few spur of the moment wrestling matches in the old Willard kitchen. He thinks he won, just like he thinks he could beat me in Super Smash Bros. As I practice my high legs kicks and body slams in the dojo, I think of nothing but proving him wrong.
6:37 PM: Time to refuel after a solid workout. I crack open the crock pot, instagram my newest culinary masterpiece and dig in. I've become a pretty good cook these days, only lean meats and organic veggies for this guy.
8:45 PM: I hop on the laptop and start my seminary reading for the night. I listen to "I and Love and You" on repeat, and wonder what Marcus Vick is doing.
11:47 PM: Practice the "Wop" for a few minutes in front of the mirror.
12:04 AM: Crawl into bed.
12:05 AM: Snore.
12:06 AM: Snore louder.
12:08 AM: Dream of Chud.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
A Day in the Life of Jackson Strawn: Wytheville
7 AM: My eyes fly open. I hear the sound of Kimmie snoring next to me. So cute. Since getting married I've gotten more mature. No more sleeping late. No more baggie pants. I wear a suit to bed now. I get up without waking the wife and make my way towards the kitchen.
7:30 AM: Kimmie awakes to the smell of quite the smorgasbord being prepared. I do all the cooking now. I don't know what happened, but similar to a Captain Planet Planeteer, the moment that ring hit my finger I was endowed with powers. I am now able to make foods that aren't grilled cheese or Papa John's Pizza.
8:00 AM: I eat breakfast with my love.
8:15 AM: Sneak in a quick episode of Spongebob while Kimmie is getting ready.
8:47 AM: We walk down to the office together.
9:15 AM: I sit at my desk and cruise the net for a while. Send a few emails, buy some stuff off Amazon. I consider getting a new rug for our bedroom. Hmm.
9:35 AM: Decide to pass on the rug. I ponder life for a bit.
10:00 AM: Have a few meetings. One with a local celebrity who saw a UFO and might have had the Men in Black steal things from his house. I wish I was kidding. All the people I meet with check out my sweet computer with upside down stickers on it.
12 PM: I walk across the hall to Kimbo's office and we eat lunch together.
4 PM: Get home from the office and sit on the couch for a bit. Wytheville isn't the most exciting place on earth.
4:30 PM: Kimmie gets home. We sit.
5:00 PM: I make dinner; Chicken cordon bleu with grilled asparagus. (See Captain Planet ring)
6:00 PM: Kimmie and I watch a few episodes of the Bachelor on a laptop. That damn Juan Pablo is such a tease.
9:00 PM: We go hang out with the only other married couple in their twenties in 3 counties. We play scrabble.
10:00 PM: Bedtime. Kimmie and I dream of Chud.
7:30 AM: Kimmie awakes to the smell of quite the smorgasbord being prepared. I do all the cooking now. I don't know what happened, but similar to a Captain Planet Planeteer, the moment that ring hit my finger I was endowed with powers. I am now able to make foods that aren't grilled cheese or Papa John's Pizza.
8:00 AM: I eat breakfast with my love.
8:15 AM: Sneak in a quick episode of Spongebob while Kimmie is getting ready.
8:47 AM: We walk down to the office together.
9:15 AM: I sit at my desk and cruise the net for a while. Send a few emails, buy some stuff off Amazon. I consider getting a new rug for our bedroom. Hmm.
9:35 AM: Decide to pass on the rug. I ponder life for a bit.
10:00 AM: Have a few meetings. One with a local celebrity who saw a UFO and might have had the Men in Black steal things from his house. I wish I was kidding. All the people I meet with check out my sweet computer with upside down stickers on it.
12 PM: I walk across the hall to Kimbo's office and we eat lunch together.
4 PM: Get home from the office and sit on the couch for a bit. Wytheville isn't the most exciting place on earth.
4:30 PM: Kimmie gets home. We sit.
5:00 PM: I make dinner; Chicken cordon bleu with grilled asparagus. (See Captain Planet ring)
6:00 PM: Kimmie and I watch a few episodes of the Bachelor on a laptop. That damn Juan Pablo is such a tease.
9:00 PM: We go hang out with the only other married couple in their twenties in 3 counties. We play scrabble.
10:00 PM: Bedtime. Kimmie and I dream of Chud.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
A Day in the Life of Joe Danehower
9:45 AM: I awaken to light shining through a hole in my wall. Some would say "window" but they obviously haven't seen my jail cell of an apartment. There's no glass in this hole, it's just a spot where the walls don't meet correctly and I can see outside. I missed my first class entirely, so why go to any today? I decide to hit the beach instead.
10:30 AM: After cruising noise trade for a while to see if I could find some hip new indie bands, I slip on my short swim trunks and walk down to the Charleston ocean front. I sit on the sand and ponder deep questions of life. I also imagine myself being a better surfer than John, and more importantly James, and am filled with joy.
11 AM: I walk back to the apartment and slap together 4 PBJs. Food of champions.
11:15 AM: I hit the gym. It's arm and abs day, cause everyday is arm and abs day.
2 PM: Can no longer feel my arms or stomach. Go an eat 4 more PBJs.
2:30 PM: I go to the middle school cause it's letting out and kids are hopping on the bus. I just started leading Wyldlife, and unfortunately the administration doesn't realize that I am being a mentor to kids, because the resource officer just slammed me against the bus and called me a pedophile. After some quick talking and him running my ID, I get off scott free.
3 PM: I sit down and read "Hinds feet in High Places" it's the best!
4 PM: I finally head to the lab. Ughhh.
11 PM: Head home from lab. Head onto the streets of Chucktown
11:15 PM Post a few Instagrams, try some filters. Follow me @chucktownjoe
11:30 PM Get tired of the Charleston night life and head back to my apartment. I lay in my couch/bed and look up at the ceiling. Then I go eat a PBJ, and fall asleep.
11:45 PM Dream about Chud.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
A Day in The Life of John Carr: The Married Man
7:30 AM. I hate the alarm ringing, reminds me that technically I work for the man now. I told myself I'd never give into this capitalistic system made on the backs of the little guy, but gotta keep the family together. Sleepy and Eliot Ladarius are counting on me.
8:00 AM. Getting out of the shower and dressing for work. Working for Young Life is rich in payment only if we're talking about storing up treasures in heaven. Unfortunately, it lacks a little when we're talking about payment for a first year staff associate. Luckily, I'm a master of buying stuff on Amazon for great deals. Does Stef need a new jean jacket? Yep.
8:30 AM. Get to the office and head in to see Ryder, aka my spiritual daddy. He's been there from the beginning, and it's pretty cool he's now my boss. He's gotten really into bicycling recently and refuses to wear anything but spandex when in public. It would be fine, but he's made it an office dress code, and I'm starting to sweat something awful.
10:30 AM Working.
11:30 AM Head home for lunch. I sit down outside and have a picnic with Stef. Recently, instagram has been infecting the real world. Let me explain; I no longer need filters. Nature is now shifting to fit our lifestyle. So as we had a picnic outside, to onlookers it seemed that someone had flipped an X-LO II in front of their eyes. With a slight blur around everything but us and Ladarius.
11:45 AM Ladarius requires his fur to be brushed at least three times a day. He's a high maintenance little furball, but I love him. I spend an abnormal amount of time making sure his fur shines.
3:30 PM Head to Harrisonburg High School. It's got both Young Life and Vida Joven, so I've been boning up on my spanish. #PTL for illegal downloads of Rosetta Stone!
5:00 PM I got home from work and told Steph I needed to work on some stuff in the garage. We don't have a tv or internet access in order for us to be more "intentional" with each other. It's all fine and dandy except now I can't watch surfing videos. I absentmindedly rub my hand up and down my ole surfboard "Shreddy Mac." I can almost smell the ocean and hear the waves breaking around as the white water rushes under my feet and between my toes. I do this for about 15 minutes before the moment passes.
6:00 PM I cook dinner for Steph and I. She was out doing some nannying/photographing today, so I throw on enough spaghetti for two. We light some candles, and I recite poetry to her. Mainly some Walt Whitman. Oh, what a wizard with words.
7:00 PM. Get out the paintmarker and look around the house for a good place to write a quote.
7:45 PM Stef finally wrestled the marker away. I'm being grouchy and head back to the garage to re-wax my board.
9:30 PM Stef and I do one last brushing session for Eliot.
10:00 PM We hit the hay, I look in my wife's eyes and think "God must exist, cause my wife is way out of my league."
10:04 PM Sleep. I dream of Chud.
8:00 AM. Getting out of the shower and dressing for work. Working for Young Life is rich in payment only if we're talking about storing up treasures in heaven. Unfortunately, it lacks a little when we're talking about payment for a first year staff associate. Luckily, I'm a master of buying stuff on Amazon for great deals. Does Stef need a new jean jacket? Yep.
8:30 AM. Get to the office and head in to see Ryder, aka my spiritual daddy. He's been there from the beginning, and it's pretty cool he's now my boss. He's gotten really into bicycling recently and refuses to wear anything but spandex when in public. It would be fine, but he's made it an office dress code, and I'm starting to sweat something awful.
10:30 AM Working.
11:30 AM Head home for lunch. I sit down outside and have a picnic with Stef. Recently, instagram has been infecting the real world. Let me explain; I no longer need filters. Nature is now shifting to fit our lifestyle. So as we had a picnic outside, to onlookers it seemed that someone had flipped an X-LO II in front of their eyes. With a slight blur around everything but us and Ladarius.
11:45 AM Ladarius requires his fur to be brushed at least three times a day. He's a high maintenance little furball, but I love him. I spend an abnormal amount of time making sure his fur shines.
3:30 PM Head to Harrisonburg High School. It's got both Young Life and Vida Joven, so I've been boning up on my spanish. #PTL for illegal downloads of Rosetta Stone!
5:00 PM I got home from work and told Steph I needed to work on some stuff in the garage. We don't have a tv or internet access in order for us to be more "intentional" with each other. It's all fine and dandy except now I can't watch surfing videos. I absentmindedly rub my hand up and down my ole surfboard "Shreddy Mac." I can almost smell the ocean and hear the waves breaking around as the white water rushes under my feet and between my toes. I do this for about 15 minutes before the moment passes.
6:00 PM I cook dinner for Steph and I. She was out doing some nannying/photographing today, so I throw on enough spaghetti for two. We light some candles, and I recite poetry to her. Mainly some Walt Whitman. Oh, what a wizard with words.
7:00 PM. Get out the paintmarker and look around the house for a good place to write a quote.
7:45 PM Stef finally wrestled the marker away. I'm being grouchy and head back to the garage to re-wax my board.
9:30 PM Stef and I do one last brushing session for Eliot.
10:00 PM We hit the hay, I look in my wife's eyes and think "God must exist, cause my wife is way out of my league."
10:04 PM Sleep. I dream of Chud.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
The Summit: Gone, But Not Forgotten
Per request, I was asked to update the world on the lives of the Summit girls after leaving Tech. Apparently they never made a blog, so the responsibility has to fall on my broad, strong shoulders.
We'll pick up at the last event you probably heard about, which was the great Valentine's Day Progressive Dinner of 2012. Possibly one of my best nights of college, nay my entire life, everyone was filled with joy and warm food as we trudged merrily through the town of Blacksburg from house to house. I remember fondly the way Becca laughed at everything I said, and Katie Meehan's determination. Everything after this night paled in comparison, so college went downhill from there. We all finished out school and...
CLAIRE WALDROP
Known to some as Claudia, this Richmondite headed north to the great suburbs of Washington DC where she works as a fellow in the Capitol Fellows Program, and also has a job working at Jill's House, a nonprofit in the DC metro area. She lives the party life with a young couple and their small baby, and their dog whom everyone loves, except Claire, who often attacks said puppy with a small, plastic helicopter.
KYLIE GALYEN
Side note: it took until graduation for me to realize I had been saying Kylie's last name Gaylen for 4 years. Oh well. Kylie is on Young Life staff in Vienna, VA, working primarily at Madison HS. Kylie lives with a local family in the area (Trend?) who also have a dog. Kylie however loves this dog alot more than Claire loves her dog. Kylie's recently picked up new hobbies in her post grad life, including but not limited to: Hunting, Surfing, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Painting, Lobbying on Capitol Hill and day dreaming.
ELIZA CRAYMER
"Crames" as very few people if anyone call her, is back in the great city of Richmond, but this time as a hipster. Working on her fitness regularly, Eliza is working as a dance teacher and will possibly be attending grad school in the near future. She lives with a girl in the city who's name escapes me (Anne? Ashley? Idk) and is continuing to do little crafty things with paint and pieces of driftwood. When asked about how she enjoyed living in Rich-city, she replied with the sign of a gang which she has recently become affiliated with, and a long slur of profanities which I will not include here. Needless to say, she's enjoying herself.
BROOKE KING
A Maryland native at heart, Brooke is living the high life in the Noke at a location called "Summit II." Here she lives with fellow former Summiter Jana "Big" Little. Still dating Alex Norton, Brooke is pursuing what may be her umpteeth degree in teaching stuff. She wants to be a psychology teacher. Or an english teacher. Let's be real, I don't have much contact with Brooke. Brooke, if you're reading this, text me and let me know you're ok.
JANA LITTLE
Jana "Big" Little is certainly doing it big at "Summit II." Still dating that ole toolbag Taylor MacDonald, Jana is in PA school at Shenendoah. Or Jefferson. Yeah, definitely Jefferson, my b Jan. Anyway, she's doing that and learning about saving lives or something equally insignificant, as well as still being an EMT. Gosh, why don't be a little more selfish Jana? Anyway, she isn't necessarily enjoying this new stage of life, because it takes her 45 minutes away from the love of her life, Taylor MacDonald (reference first paragraph). In case you didn't know, Taylor used to be super overweight as a child. Here's a pic!
Adios Amigas.
James C. Harris III
We'll pick up at the last event you probably heard about, which was the great Valentine's Day Progressive Dinner of 2012. Possibly one of my best nights of college, nay my entire life, everyone was filled with joy and warm food as we trudged merrily through the town of Blacksburg from house to house. I remember fondly the way Becca laughed at everything I said, and Katie Meehan's determination. Everything after this night paled in comparison, so college went downhill from there. We all finished out school and...
CLAIRE WALDROP
Known to some as Claudia, this Richmondite headed north to the great suburbs of Washington DC where she works as a fellow in the Capitol Fellows Program, and also has a job working at Jill's House, a nonprofit in the DC metro area. She lives the party life with a young couple and their small baby, and their dog whom everyone loves, except Claire, who often attacks said puppy with a small, plastic helicopter.
KYLIE GALYEN
Side note: it took until graduation for me to realize I had been saying Kylie's last name Gaylen for 4 years. Oh well. Kylie is on Young Life staff in Vienna, VA, working primarily at Madison HS. Kylie lives with a local family in the area (Trend?) who also have a dog. Kylie however loves this dog alot more than Claire loves her dog. Kylie's recently picked up new hobbies in her post grad life, including but not limited to: Hunting, Surfing, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Painting, Lobbying on Capitol Hill and day dreaming.
ELIZA CRAYMER
"Crames" as very few people if anyone call her, is back in the great city of Richmond, but this time as a hipster. Working on her fitness regularly, Eliza is working as a dance teacher and will possibly be attending grad school in the near future. She lives with a girl in the city who's name escapes me (Anne? Ashley? Idk) and is continuing to do little crafty things with paint and pieces of driftwood. When asked about how she enjoyed living in Rich-city, she replied with the sign of a gang which she has recently become affiliated with, and a long slur of profanities which I will not include here. Needless to say, she's enjoying herself.
BROOKE KING
A Maryland native at heart, Brooke is living the high life in the Noke at a location called "Summit II." Here she lives with fellow former Summiter Jana "Big" Little. Still dating Alex Norton, Brooke is pursuing what may be her umpteeth degree in teaching stuff. She wants to be a psychology teacher. Or an english teacher. Let's be real, I don't have much contact with Brooke. Brooke, if you're reading this, text me and let me know you're ok.
JANA LITTLE
Adios Amigas.
James C. Harris III
Friday, January 31, 2014
Where are they now?
Back in the saddle again.
I'm sure many of you are probably asking yourselves right now, "Self, I really wish I knew what the Willard men of old are up to nowadays. They were so wise beyond their years and must be doing great things in the world." Well, it's your lucky day my friend, you're correct.
JOHN CARR
Ole John went and got himself hitched (reference #CarrIndieWedding) to a wonderful little sleepy lady named Stef. They moved to Kansas for what was the rest of the house's senior year of college, and are now back in the great state of Virginia. They live in Harrisonburg now, and John is on Young Life staff working for Ryder. They got themselves a cat with some weird indie name, and it's pretty much all I see on instagram. I think his name is like Duke Ellington? Idk.
JOE DANEHOWER
Daddy Dane. After being wrapped up in things like "schoolwork" and "Capernaum" for the past four years, Joe went off the deep end and moved to Charleston, SC where I am pretty sure he just hangs out at the beach all day. Just kidding, he's in school. But he does hang out at the beach a lot. He has a small apartment and just started leading wyldlife. He still eats a lot of PBJS.
JACKSON STRAWN
Similar to John in almost all respects: Got married, moved to a town in southwest VA, works for Young Life. The differences are, Kimmie doesn't like to sleep nearly as much as Stef, they don't have a cat who is constantly having existential identity crises, and he lives in Wytheville, where there are approximately two people roughly in the same age range as Kimmie and himself. We're eating McDonalds together for lunch in Mt. Airy on Monday, February 3rd if y'all wanna stop by the truck stop.
JEREMY MATEYK
The sole engineer of the house, Jeremy used his big brain and dashing good looks to get a job at Ford Motor Company, as the face of the race car division. You can see him in press conferences, at NASCAR races, and any other smattering of Ford related activities. In his spare time, he likes to work on another part of the car that I keep calling the chassis but isn't. Additionally, he turned 23 recently, and has been holed up in his house for 2 months trying to endure a Detroit winter. He also still drives a VW, to stick it to the man. (I was gonna make a joke about him living in the North but that seemed like taking the low hanging fruit.)
EVAN UNDERWOOD
Who the hell knows, Evan answers to no man. Allegedly, he's working at construction sites in DC as a project manager.
SAM BOWMAN
Working for the Christian Mafia, Sam is living in Annapolis and learning the finer things in life. His internship ends in May, and at that point, only the Good Lord knows what Sam will pursue. Options include: Doctor, Hunter, Lawyer, Biologist, Salesman, Explorer, Chef, etc. etc. But probably either med school or working in sales if I had to guess.
JAMES HARRIS
Still grinding it out down in Winston-Salem. Finished the first semester of Div School and working for Young Life at RJ Reynolds HS. I'm applying to the Air Force and started brewing my own beer. I'm sick of writing, so if you wanna know about me ask directly.
I would make some promise about future blog posts, but let's be real, it'll probably be weeks or months.
<3's
James Crockett Harris III
I'm sure many of you are probably asking yourselves right now, "Self, I really wish I knew what the Willard men of old are up to nowadays. They were so wise beyond their years and must be doing great things in the world." Well, it's your lucky day my friend, you're correct.
JOHN CARR
Ole John went and got himself hitched (reference #CarrIndieWedding) to a wonderful little sleepy lady named Stef. They moved to Kansas for what was the rest of the house's senior year of college, and are now back in the great state of Virginia. They live in Harrisonburg now, and John is on Young Life staff working for Ryder. They got themselves a cat with some weird indie name, and it's pretty much all I see on instagram. I think his name is like Duke Ellington? Idk.
JOE DANEHOWER
Daddy Dane. After being wrapped up in things like "schoolwork" and "Capernaum" for the past four years, Joe went off the deep end and moved to Charleston, SC where I am pretty sure he just hangs out at the beach all day. Just kidding, he's in school. But he does hang out at the beach a lot. He has a small apartment and just started leading wyldlife. He still eats a lot of PBJS.
JACKSON STRAWN
Similar to John in almost all respects: Got married, moved to a town in southwest VA, works for Young Life. The differences are, Kimmie doesn't like to sleep nearly as much as Stef, they don't have a cat who is constantly having existential identity crises, and he lives in Wytheville, where there are approximately two people roughly in the same age range as Kimmie and himself. We're eating McDonalds together for lunch in Mt. Airy on Monday, February 3rd if y'all wanna stop by the truck stop.
JEREMY MATEYK
The sole engineer of the house, Jeremy used his big brain and dashing good looks to get a job at Ford Motor Company, as the face of the race car division. You can see him in press conferences, at NASCAR races, and any other smattering of Ford related activities. In his spare time, he likes to work on another part of the car that I keep calling the chassis but isn't. Additionally, he turned 23 recently, and has been holed up in his house for 2 months trying to endure a Detroit winter. He also still drives a VW, to stick it to the man. (I was gonna make a joke about him living in the North but that seemed like taking the low hanging fruit.)
EVAN UNDERWOOD
Who the hell knows, Evan answers to no man. Allegedly, he's working at construction sites in DC as a project manager.
SAM BOWMAN
Working for the Christian Mafia, Sam is living in Annapolis and learning the finer things in life. His internship ends in May, and at that point, only the Good Lord knows what Sam will pursue. Options include: Doctor, Hunter, Lawyer, Biologist, Salesman, Explorer, Chef, etc. etc. But probably either med school or working in sales if I had to guess.
JAMES HARRIS
Still grinding it out down in Winston-Salem. Finished the first semester of Div School and working for Young Life at RJ Reynolds HS. I'm applying to the Air Force and started brewing my own beer. I'm sick of writing, so if you wanna know about me ask directly.
I would make some promise about future blog posts, but let's be real, it'll probably be weeks or months.
<3's
James Crockett Harris III
Monday, March 4, 2013
Beginnings
Every year I've spent in Blacksburg, I've hated the winter. The cold, the wind, the slush/ice/snow/hail. It sucks. But this year is different. I don't seem to mind as much. You see, in a few short months, the men you know and love as the residents of 402 Willard Dr. will be leaving to embark on the next stage of life, wherever and whatever that may be.
I've noticed that when things begin to come to an end, it's good to look at the beginnings. Therefore, I have decided to give a brief rundown of how I met all the current residents of Willard (and John). I hope this post will make you laugh, cry, and experience a full spectrum of emotions which I don't have the time or desire to write here.
Joe Danehower wasn't always jacked and good looking as you might assume. When I first met Joe, he was a skinny little freshman wearing a Chantilly baseball sweatshirt who disliked conversations pertaining to anything besides the Old Testament. I met him the night of the YL freshman fellowship scavenger hunt. We were on the same team, running together joyfully around campus. As we squeezed ourselves into a porter john together with five other freshman. From that moment on, despite the obsession with Moses and skinny girl arms, I thought, you know I bet we will be good friends some day.
Sam Bowman lived down the hall from me freshman year. Skinny, ginger, and with a volatile attitude, I first met Sam while walking down the hall. I heard screams issuing from his room and looked in to see this choker necklace wearer yelling "DOUBLE KILL!" at the top of his lungs while playing Halo 2 against his bro suitemates. Naturally, I poked my head in and introduced myself. He looked at me with deadened eyes and said, "what's up." before turning back to the television and continuing his gaming. That was the end of our first interaction. Luckily things have gotten marginally better since!
Evan Underwood is a mystery to me. I can't recall for the life of me when I met him. However, the first interaction I do remember is with his room. Strolling around the quad on a warm spring day with John, Jackson and Sam; we hotshots (John) thought it would be a good idea to throw a tennis ball at his window (on the 7th floor). We watched as John threw the ball at Evan's window over and over again. After about ten minutes, an RA came up to us and politely asked him to stop. After a brief, but heated, argument. John feinted as if he was giving up and waited for the RA to walk away. In the brief moments when his back was turned, John was able to launch the tennis ball up and knock over Evan's window fan, before getting into another argument with the same RA.
John Carr, sometimes warmly referred to as "the king of Chesapeake," introduced himself to me a few weeks after graduation my senior year of high school. We were at an all area campaigners in great bridge, and some guys were chuckin the bee in the parking lot. He came up and asked if I wanted to be his roommate at Tech. I said I was living in the leadership dorm. He responded with "that sucks," before walking away.
Jeremy Mateyk was sitting beside me in one of the only Young Life Freshman Fellowships I went to first semester of Freshman year. When we broke up into groups to answer some question, I noticed we had the same Bible. I pointed this out and we both acted a lot more interested than we were in this fact, because we were freshman, and thus awkward.
Jackson Strawn is another house member who I can't recall how I met. I do remember however, that he would call me every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 9 a.m. and say he was waiting outside the PY arch so we could walk to New Testament together. Many mornings, I would decline because I was warm and cozy in my nice bed, and grades seemed like such a dumb thing to be concerned about back then. He would always call though, so consistent.
I was hoping this blog would be a lot funnier, since I haven't blogged in such a long time, but it started to make me sad after the second paragraph when I realized we were only going to be living together for another few months. Oh well though, all seasons must come to an end after all, but hopefully this blog will be a living testament to be read for years to come. Be on the lookout for more blogs soon!
I've noticed that when things begin to come to an end, it's good to look at the beginnings. Therefore, I have decided to give a brief rundown of how I met all the current residents of Willard (and John). I hope this post will make you laugh, cry, and experience a full spectrum of emotions which I don't have the time or desire to write here.
Joe Danehower wasn't always jacked and good looking as you might assume. When I first met Joe, he was a skinny little freshman wearing a Chantilly baseball sweatshirt who disliked conversations pertaining to anything besides the Old Testament. I met him the night of the YL freshman fellowship scavenger hunt. We were on the same team, running together joyfully around campus. As we squeezed ourselves into a porter john together with five other freshman. From that moment on, despite the obsession with Moses and skinny girl arms, I thought, you know I bet we will be good friends some day.
Sam Bowman lived down the hall from me freshman year. Skinny, ginger, and with a volatile attitude, I first met Sam while walking down the hall. I heard screams issuing from his room and looked in to see this choker necklace wearer yelling "DOUBLE KILL!" at the top of his lungs while playing Halo 2 against his bro suitemates. Naturally, I poked my head in and introduced myself. He looked at me with deadened eyes and said, "what's up." before turning back to the television and continuing his gaming. That was the end of our first interaction. Luckily things have gotten marginally better since!
Evan Underwood is a mystery to me. I can't recall for the life of me when I met him. However, the first interaction I do remember is with his room. Strolling around the quad on a warm spring day with John, Jackson and Sam; we hotshots (John) thought it would be a good idea to throw a tennis ball at his window (on the 7th floor). We watched as John threw the ball at Evan's window over and over again. After about ten minutes, an RA came up to us and politely asked him to stop. After a brief, but heated, argument. John feinted as if he was giving up and waited for the RA to walk away. In the brief moments when his back was turned, John was able to launch the tennis ball up and knock over Evan's window fan, before getting into another argument with the same RA.
John Carr, sometimes warmly referred to as "the king of Chesapeake," introduced himself to me a few weeks after graduation my senior year of high school. We were at an all area campaigners in great bridge, and some guys were chuckin the bee in the parking lot. He came up and asked if I wanted to be his roommate at Tech. I said I was living in the leadership dorm. He responded with "that sucks," before walking away.
Jeremy Mateyk was sitting beside me in one of the only Young Life Freshman Fellowships I went to first semester of Freshman year. When we broke up into groups to answer some question, I noticed we had the same Bible. I pointed this out and we both acted a lot more interested than we were in this fact, because we were freshman, and thus awkward.
Jackson Strawn is another house member who I can't recall how I met. I do remember however, that he would call me every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 9 a.m. and say he was waiting outside the PY arch so we could walk to New Testament together. Many mornings, I would decline because I was warm and cozy in my nice bed, and grades seemed like such a dumb thing to be concerned about back then. He would always call though, so consistent.
I was hoping this blog would be a lot funnier, since I haven't blogged in such a long time, but it started to make me sad after the second paragraph when I realized we were only going to be living together for another few months. Oh well though, all seasons must come to an end after all, but hopefully this blog will be a living testament to be read for years to come. Be on the lookout for more blogs soon!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Manti Te'o Discovers Grandmother Never Existed
Still reeling from discovering that
his girlfriend, Lennay Kekua, was an cruel hoax, Manti Te’o received word earlier
today from his parents informing him that his grandmother, Anette Santiago, also never existed “I just
don’t understand how something like this could happen,” said an emotionally
battered Te’o in an interview at 5 p.m. “she just seemed so real.”
After her “death” in early September
2012, interviews with Te’o revealed the depth of their relationship. “You know
every holiday Grammie would be there, and I would get these awesome gifts from
her, and sometimes she was just as surprised as me, you know? She would play
along like she didn’t know what was in the box either! I mean she was just a
super endearing woman, whenever we would stand around and sing my traditional
family songs she would always joke and look at me with this expression like “I don’t
even know the words!”
Teo’s parents were able to shed some
light on the subject in a press conference at Notre Dame. “We just wanted him
to have a grandmother figure,” said Manti’s father Brian, “is that so much to
ask? Is it really that crazy to have hired an elderly Hawaiian woman to act as
his grandmother at various family functions? Is it really that strange that
when the said actress was diagnosed with Leukemia we just ran with it? I mean,
what were we supposed to do, she was his fake grandmother after all.”
Manti Te’o’s mother stood firmly by
her husband. “I don’t get what is so wrong with this. We went through a lot of
time and effort to make sure that he would grow up with a grandmother. You know
how much it costs to get a 70 year old woman to come to our house every
Christmas? A helluva lot more than you’re worth bub.”
After repeated attempts to contact “Annette
Santiago’s” family, we were unable to get any response.
Although some would imagine that
news like this would strain the relationship between Manti Te’o and his
parents, they are closer than ever according to Manti. “In times like this,
when you find out that important people in your life don’t actually exist,
family is the only place you can turn.” Unfortunately, at the time of this
article, Deadspin.com has reported that, in fact, three of Manti’s five sisters
are not real either.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
He Said: Exams
Exam week is approaching and students everywhere are gearing up.
We all have our pre-exam traditions like emailing professors, stocking up on coffee or finally getting that Adderall prescription filled. But there isn’t anything that I love more than reading day.
Now, I realize this can hardly be considered a tradition, since it is imposed by most universities, but for the sake of this article let’s just consider it one.
Throughout the year, my body rebels against the routine that accompanies school. Between classes, weekly meetings and rigorously outlined activities, I get worn out.
I like to think that I live my life on the edge, and doing the same thing every day is pretty much the definition of draining. For this reason, I love reading day.
Although it is scheduled and technically routine, you never know what reading day has in store.
All-male breakfast at IHOP that lasts a few hours? Check. Watch an entire season of “Dexter”? Maybe. Go home on a quick day trip? Probably not. No matter what you choose, the possibilities are endless on reading day.
Sure, some studying should probably be done, but when you’re a history major, pretty much all of your exams are essays, which have been under construction for weeks. So no cramming is really needed.
That’s why I enjoy exam week and reading day. Routines and schedules go out the window and for a short period of time I get to experience an almost mini-vacation, with the exception of editing for grammar and content.
There’s only one thing I really hate about exam week: everyone complaining about taking their exams. Facebook is filled with mindless chatter complaining about how in your anatomy class, you have to know which bones go where.
I know I can get an occasional academic gripe in now and then, but it’s pretty illogical if you consider it. We’re paying to go to college.
If you don’t want to memorize what the medulla oblongata is, then don’t. No one is forcing you to take exams, so try to tone back any ill-conceived soliloquies you’re just raring to blast all your social media friends with.
At the end of the day, exams aren’t the end of the world, and we all chose to be here, so suck it up and hit the books.
On that negative note, try to join me in looking on the bright side. Experience exam week this year in a new and crazy way. Instead of dread and loathing, look forward to exams with optimism in your hearts and a song on your lips. It will make the week a lot more enjoyable for everyone and yourself included.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
#Carrindiewedding Part 3
The rested travelers boarded the charter bus and then Dr. Stuever got on. He promised us a day that we would never forget, seeing the sights and hearing the sounds of the most interesting city on earth: Lawrence, Kansas.
Although I'm unsure if Dr. S has ever been a tour guide, if saving people's lives ever falls through, he has a back up. The bus took us on a tour of Lawrence, focusing primarily on KU. As we drove, the good doctor regaled us with stories of the history of KU basketball and why everyone hates Missouri (if you don't you probably should). The tour ended with a quick rundown of the main street in Lawrence, before we disembarked by the post office. We were told we had three hours to shop, eat and explore and then the mob of us set off to explore the commerce and fine dining that Kansas had to offer.
Time seems to move slower in Lawrence. The city itself is a hipster paradise filled with chic clothing and buildings that seem straight out of the late 70's. Even the weather appeared to be more hip than the average Virginia day.
We looked in shops, saw a lot of hipsters and families, and eventually ate lunch at a pizza place. It was good, and I bought a shirt from the only surf shop within hundreds of miles.
Sooner than seemed possible, the group headed back to the bus, it was time to prepare for the wedding.
Once back at the Best Western, everyone put on their finest Kansas apparel. Boys in their ties and girls in their dresses, we were prepared for the best wedding Kansas had ever and probably will ever see.
Upon arriving at the location, we walked up a trail to the clearing which contained the chairs and other things needed for an occasion such as this. Taking my seat, voices around me murmured with excited anticipation for the ceremony to begin. I could see John through the woods. Wearing his skinny tie and suspenders, he looked like a modern day Walt Whitman, ready to burst into poetry at any second,
Soon enough, the single guitarist started ripping off a steady beat, and Stef materialized out of the woods. Enchanting in her dress, and nimble as a wood elf, she made her way up the aisle, with onlookers speechless at her beauty and grace. A single tear appeared at Johns eye, almost invisible because of the vast smile encompassing his face.
Ryder preceded over the wedding, and it was filled with Scripture, God's promises for marriage and laughter about how cold it was. The I do's were said, the bride and groom kissed, and then it was off to the reception on the other side of the pond.
Dinner is one of my favorite times of the day, and the Carr wedding was no exception. The catering was wonderful, my favorite was the mashed potatoes, which were scrum-diddily-umptious.
After the food, toasts were given and received, Mezz's mike didn't work, and then it was onto the rest of the evening: dancing.
We danced and danced. Liquid courage was apparent in some as they approached that special girl and guy and asked for a slow dance. Kansasians and Virginians united in square dancing and the wobble and the fairy tale continued.
Sadly, fairy tales have to come to an end. The wedding and reception was over. Sparklers were lit and John and Stef drove away in their carriage (Ford Taurus) and onto the rest of their lives. The bus was loaded up again, and the giddy wedding guests were driven back to the Best Western.
Once home, some went to bed. Others decided to venture out again into the cold Kansas night to a local restaurant called "The Phoggy Dog." This family friendly venue provided a setting for laughter and reminiscing between friends old and new.
Morning came all too soon and the bus departed back to Virginia. The ride seemed longer this time as spirits were heavy with the impending work week. After a few close calls where we almost stopped at Denny's again, we arrived back at the Wal-Mart in Richmond around 6 a.m. on Monday morning. The weekend was over, but it will always be remembered.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
He Said: TV Shows
Before this past year, I never would have considered myself a big TV guy. For the first 20 or so years of my life, I had always enjoyed reading and movies much more than television show, which you have to watch week in and week out to make sure you don’t miss any major happenings. That phase of my life ended when I started watching the show Dexter.
I was gripped by its dark humor and plot twists. Soon came Game of Thrones, followed by Sons of Anarchy and now Grimm. I was pleasantly surprised by the number of great stories that were so readily available at the click of a button.
I’ve got to admit, though, it is exhausting watching all those shows. Trying to keep up with that many characters on a personal level is tough. Because of Hulu, I usually just wait and watch my shows in a one day stretch on Friday, back to back to back. I laugh, I cry. It’s an emotional roller coaster. But it’s a good emotional roller coaster because all of those shows are intriguing and (somewhat) thought provoking.
At this point I like to consider myself as something of a TV aficionado. Hopefully, my familiarity will spare you having to experience miserable 30-minute segments of your life whenever you want to try a new show.
Alas, with good comes evil, and along with my discovery of great television, I’ve also discovered some shows that are less than satisfactory. This summer, my roommates got in the habit of watching “House Hunters” and “Property Brothers” on HGTV. I don’t know what drove grown men to watch young couples visit different houses along the East Coast, but I hope it never affects me.
Every time HGTV comes on, I feel like I’m at my grandmas house, because that was literally the only channel she ever watched. I’m not sure if the shows are bad, or if it is still a negative connotation from when I was seven, but if HGTV is on I have to leave the room.
I’m going to go ahead and be judgmental and say that both Pretty Little Liars and Gossip Girl are bad. I’ve never seen either (thankfully), and I’m sure my esteemed she said counterpart will probably write an expose on how watching these two shows should be mandatory and I’m a sexist pig, but I stand by my comment. If the commercials are annoying, the show is bound to be (i.e. the recent Presidential election).
That’s really all I’ve got. All shows are still stories, and stories aren’t automatically bad if they aren’t Harry Potter; they’re just mediocre. The same is true with television; not every show is going to be a Sons of Anarchy, but that doesn’t make it a Gossip Girl. But now, armed with the knowledge of the very best and worst shows on television, grab the remote, kickback and watch a story unfold before your very eyes.
Who knows, you may end up being pleasantly surprised.
He Said: Preparing for Sandy
I scanned my food shelf and this is what I saw: croutons, extra virgin olive oil and an empty McDonald’s cup. Things were looking grim. With Hurricane Sandy threatening Blacksburg with 1/2 an inch of snow and 29 mile-an-hour winds, preparation was key; with those kinds of conditions, who knew what could happen? I needed food.
Kroger was a mad house. Everyone was frantically attacking the bottled water, canned veggies, and 24-packs of Natty Light with a fervor rarely seen. I quickly made my way to the scented candles. Rumors were abounding that power was out already in The Village and Terrace View, and I knew my house might very well be next. Light was needed, as well as the lilac scent to make my house smell all flowery and less like the body odor of grown men who can’t shower because there isn’t hot water.
I got home and quickly made my house look like a seance was about to be performed with candles everywhere. I had food on my shelf and water bottles hidden beneath my bed. I then went into the bathroom and filled the bathtub with hot water in case the storm turned into an apocalypse. I was almost ready for the impending doom of Sandy.
Weeks ago, my roommates and I had decided being frugal was more important than things like warmth and comfort. So we had vowed not to turn on the heat until at least halfway into November. The blizzard was trying to speed up our schedule and we couldn’t let this happen. I ran into the yard and hastily started chopping wood for our fireplace. It may have been the last line of defense.
Once wood chopping was finished, I returned inside and went to wash my face. I walked into my bathroom and saw something that will stick with me for the rest of my life. My roommate Evan was whistling a merry tune and taking a bath in the tub I had just cleaned and filled with hot water. I don’t know where he got the bubble mix from and didn’t think to ask either. I released a howl of despair and ran from the bathroom, desperate to get away from the image now burned into my retinas.
Even without the bathtub full of water, I calmed myself down, telling myself that we would be ok. I had to be strong for my roommates, who were bordering near hysteria. Frankenstorm wouldn’t get the best of me.
In all honesty though, the storm was pretty serious, and as images came rolling in from around the country, it was a bit scary. Although Sandy didn’t hit Blacksburg very hard, we’re sure to face some big snows come winter. Before every blizzard, be sure to prepare yourself for the worst. As the old saying goes, better safe than sorry.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
He Said: Halloween Costumes
I’m not a huge fan of Halloween.
Ever since I grew too tall and neighborhood adults started making cynical
comments and being misers with their candy, some of the magic of this scary day
has worn off. However after a few years of college, I see that I am in a small and
shrinking minority. College students treat Halloween with awe-inspiring
reverence normally reserved for religious events and Hokie football. Weeks are
spent before hand picking the best costume, arranging plans for which parties
to attend and contemplating how much skin you can show before being charged
with public indecency. Last year when temperatures dropped below freezing, the bitterness
was almost palpable. At least until around 11 o’clock, when no one really seemed
to care anymore.
This
year the weather is promising to be far better and folks on campus and beyond
are in full swing of costume preparation. Chatter concerning the subject can be
heard all over. Should I be a witch again? Are bunny costumes cliché? Pants:
how necessary are they? These are the concerns of our generation.
Although
I claim to be no expert on the subject, I have been considering different fun
costumes ideas for the past few days, jotting down notes and creepily giggling
to myself in public. These are the few I came up with, so if you’re currently
about to breakdown in an anxiety attack because you can’t choose between being
Petey the Pirate and Scuba Steve; take heart, because you now have fallbacks.
Logan Thomas: Go invest in a number 3 jersey, acquire some
stilts and you’re good to go. White pants are fine but if you go full pads more
power to you.
Kanye West: You can dress up in shades and a leather jacket
if you want, but this one is more about attitude. Compliment yourself
constantly, refer to yourself as “Mr. West” in the third person, and interrupt people
whenever possible.
Ke$ha: This one isn’t that creative and is probably verging
on the point of overdone, but the concept of a major music artist spelling
their name with a money sign is hilarious. To get this costume down, just don’t
sleep or shower for a few days. Or do some meth. Your choice.
G.E.R.M.A.N. Club Program Salesman: Super easy. Dress
Business Casual and rock some free VT shades. Carry around a week old program
saying “5 dollars,” over and over.
Hipster: Go to any vintage clothing store (aka Goodwill) or
just wear stuff that was popular in the 70’s. Ride a fixie, listen to some
vinyls (it just sounds so much more authentic, you know?), and write a blog
filled with self-angst. Be warned however, if you choose to dress too cool for
school, you probably shouldn’t attend any Halloween bashes, way too mainstream.
So, if you are struggling to decide on your All Hallows Eve wardrobe,
found my ideas ridiculously clever, or are Logan Thomas, you should consider trying
out one of these. Or use one as a last resort. Either or.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
#Carrindiewedding Part 2
As time goes on, my recollection of this glorious weekend seems to be getting phoggy. I will try to quickly follow this blog with #Carrindiewedding Part 3.
JOHN 1:46
"Kansas! Can anything good come from there?" Nacho asked. "Come and see," said JohnxCarr.
(The Message: Midwest Remix)
My eyes shot open as I felt the bus slowly jar to a halt. Aisle lights lazily flickered on, and the bus' inhabitants started to stir and mumble. I looked out the window. We were in a desolate wasteland, with only one freestanding building in sight over to our right. Denny's. I looked at my watch and saw it was 5:45 in the morning. I growled low beneath my breath, and stretched my arms. Most of the girls had somehow managed to stay asleep through this change of momentum and lighting, and were just now awaking. I sat back down intending to go back to sleep when the bus' doors opened up and Willie the bus driver climbed inside after his quick smoke break. "Ya'llwantbreakfastdon'tcha?" He yelled in his peculiar drawl to us all. Across the aisle, Dan Griffin nodded his head in agreement and said something to the effect of, yes, he did want breakfast except with more expletives. Lester silently arose and lumbered off the bus and the rest of us soon followed, in various forms of consciousness.
Once inside, we overwhelmed the understaffed Denny's with orders of Grandslamwhiches, coffee and other laxatives. They bravely rose to the challenge, quickly and courteously bringing us mounds of processed food to the numerous tables. We plunged into heartily and then much like cattle were herded to the cashier and then back to the bus.*
The next ten hours or so passed in a flurry of sleep, Friday Night Lights, dirty truck stops and the reek of the gag-inducing on bus restroom. Next thing we knew, we were pulling into the Best Western of Lawrence.
This was our first interaction with the mysterious man known as Dr. Stuever. A hush passed through the bus as his powerful voice asserted itself. Willie, cowering in fear and awe, huddled in his bus seat gazing up at the Father himself. The good doctor then explained what the evening would consist of (checking into the Best Western, Rehearsal Dinner, home etc.) With a flourish, he officially welcomed us to the Midwest, encouraged us to take a shower before the rehearsal (the bus was pretty pungent at this point), and told us that we had 45 minutes before we had to be at the bus, or it would leave us.
After quickly changing, the whole crew loaded up and embarked to the Garden of Stuever, where we were greeted with BBQ, Free-State Drinks, and the Colonel. The hours passed quickly with laughter, tears, and two old dogs who loved to be pet.
Later on, the females all headed back to the hotel, and the fellas hung out having a semi-bachelor party for John Carr. For hours we sat around a few fires sharing stories, recounting events and encouraging John in his soon to be marriage. Everyone then hopped in some cars and were driven back to the hotel.
Most people went to sleep at this point, but James Thomas Tetsuo Lopaka Tworek and myself both decided to explore Kansas a bit more. Two hours later, we headed back to the hotel, and joined our comrades in blissful sleep. Tomorrow was wedding day, and was sure to be filled with surprises.
*side note: Throughout the 40 combined hours of being on a bus to and from VA, there were no sightings of Willie or his partner in crime ever consuming any food. As far as I could tell, they were running purely off tobacco and their passion for driving.
JOHN 1:46
"Kansas! Can anything good come from there?" Nacho asked. "Come and see," said JohnxCarr.
(The Message: Midwest Remix)
My eyes shot open as I felt the bus slowly jar to a halt. Aisle lights lazily flickered on, and the bus' inhabitants started to stir and mumble. I looked out the window. We were in a desolate wasteland, with only one freestanding building in sight over to our right. Denny's. I looked at my watch and saw it was 5:45 in the morning. I growled low beneath my breath, and stretched my arms. Most of the girls had somehow managed to stay asleep through this change of momentum and lighting, and were just now awaking. I sat back down intending to go back to sleep when the bus' doors opened up and Willie the bus driver climbed inside after his quick smoke break. "Ya'llwantbreakfastdon'tcha?" He yelled in his peculiar drawl to us all. Across the aisle, Dan Griffin nodded his head in agreement and said something to the effect of, yes, he did want breakfast except with more expletives. Lester silently arose and lumbered off the bus and the rest of us soon followed, in various forms of consciousness.
Once inside, we overwhelmed the understaffed Denny's with orders of Grandslamwhiches, coffee and other laxatives. They bravely rose to the challenge, quickly and courteously bringing us mounds of processed food to the numerous tables. We plunged into heartily and then much like cattle were herded to the cashier and then back to the bus.*
The next ten hours or so passed in a flurry of sleep, Friday Night Lights, dirty truck stops and the reek of the gag-inducing on bus restroom. Next thing we knew, we were pulling into the Best Western of Lawrence.
This was our first interaction with the mysterious man known as Dr. Stuever. A hush passed through the bus as his powerful voice asserted itself. Willie, cowering in fear and awe, huddled in his bus seat gazing up at the Father himself. The good doctor then explained what the evening would consist of (checking into the Best Western, Rehearsal Dinner, home etc.) With a flourish, he officially welcomed us to the Midwest, encouraged us to take a shower before the rehearsal (the bus was pretty pungent at this point), and told us that we had 45 minutes before we had to be at the bus, or it would leave us.
After quickly changing, the whole crew loaded up and embarked to the Garden of Stuever, where we were greeted with BBQ, Free-State Drinks, and the Colonel. The hours passed quickly with laughter, tears, and two old dogs who loved to be pet.
Later on, the females all headed back to the hotel, and the fellas hung out having a semi-bachelor party for John Carr. For hours we sat around a few fires sharing stories, recounting events and encouraging John in his soon to be marriage. Everyone then hopped in some cars and were driven back to the hotel.
Most people went to sleep at this point, but James Thomas Tetsuo Lopaka Tworek and myself both decided to explore Kansas a bit more. Two hours later, we headed back to the hotel, and joined our comrades in blissful sleep. Tomorrow was wedding day, and was sure to be filled with surprises.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Happily Hidden in the Wide Open of Christ's Glory
This was written by Byron Yawn at thetrajectory.org
The implication here stings. “The more attention my ministry receives the less people should notice me.” How’s that even possible? It takes God to pull this off. Only God can gift a man, raise his ministry to a prominent position and simultaneously distract attention away from the man. Only the glory of Jesus is big enough to hide the pride of a human instrument. Only the grace of God is great enough to cause a very gifted man to want to be hidden.
Normally, the personal effect of an elevated platform is anything but invisibility. Our bottom feeding flesh naturally trolls for the praise of men. We love it. But it belongs to another. The glory is God’s, but we’re glory bootleggers who smuggle it out in compliments and acclaim. But, this is not all. From the other side, our typical response to the honor of another is anything but rejoicing. We’re suspicious. We’re jealous. We’re critical. We’re discontent. Or, we’re groupies. For some it’s their duty to diminish another by pointing out their flaws. For others it is their aim to ruin them by praising their gifts. Rarely, do we estimate the man appropriately. Rarely, does the man appreciate it when we do.
What’s in view here is a disposition which shuts the mouths of critics and devotees alike. Pure servants are rare. (Like a unicorn running through your back yard kind of rare.) It’s like when a bond-servant steps forward to announces his master’s presence. The sooner he steps back the sooner his role is fulfilled. (No one recalls the name or skill of the park ranger who led them out on to the Sky Walk at the Grand Canyon. Which means… he performed flawlessly.) The more gifted he is at his role the more people look past him. When a gifted man esteems himself a slave of Christ and lives in view of his grandness – he can easily remain in the shadows even when he is the center of attention. The more attention he receives the more his life announces someone greater.
All this makes little sense in our economy of things. But, true humility has the capacity to hide the most gifted person in the wide open. Seriously, who cares about the slave when the Master is present? Before God, real giftedness is measured in how inclined the observer is to overlook you when you are done. It’s counter intuitive I know, but such is the way of God Almighty. It’s all in reverse. It’s analogous to the humility of Christ. His condescension is the reason we exalt him. His obscurity is the reason we proclaim him. His death is the reason we live. Similarly, honor is a love for obscurity. That is… if we view ourselves as slaves first.
Ministry is a bizarre turn of events. The servants of the risen Lord receive more honor on a given Sunday than their Lord did the entire time he was upon earth (of course, this won’t last.) Yet, the obscurity of our Lord is the reason we have platforms at all. And, we – in our moments of weakness – feel slighted when people rush past us to him. We’re insane. Yet, his righteous life saved me from the consequence of such stupidity. The praise Jesus deserves is a result of his selflessness. The praise we covet is a result of our selfishness. One saved us from the other. This is our message.
There are notable men among us whose gifts and ingenuity can’t be denied. They are uniquely gifted. Then there are those men (being clearly gifted above others) who announce Jesus from the shadow of their privileged position. The former you admire. With the latter you admire his admiration for Christ. It is a self-evident quality. We “rejoice” in their honor because they bring honor to Christ. We can’t quite see them and see them nonetheless. We’re grateful for them, but realize rocks are in a queue waiting to step in. Besides, Jesus needs no introduction. He is all. Our opportunities are merely an infinite redundancy built into a universe designed to praise him whether we ever exist or not.
Thank you Community Bible Church for letting me lead you out into the abyss of Christ’s glory every Sunday.
“If one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.” – 1 Corinthians 12:26
The implication here stings. “The more attention my ministry receives the less people should notice me.” How’s that even possible? It takes God to pull this off. Only God can gift a man, raise his ministry to a prominent position and simultaneously distract attention away from the man. Only the glory of Jesus is big enough to hide the pride of a human instrument. Only the grace of God is great enough to cause a very gifted man to want to be hidden.
Normally, the personal effect of an elevated platform is anything but invisibility. Our bottom feeding flesh naturally trolls for the praise of men. We love it. But it belongs to another. The glory is God’s, but we’re glory bootleggers who smuggle it out in compliments and acclaim. But, this is not all. From the other side, our typical response to the honor of another is anything but rejoicing. We’re suspicious. We’re jealous. We’re critical. We’re discontent. Or, we’re groupies. For some it’s their duty to diminish another by pointing out their flaws. For others it is their aim to ruin them by praising their gifts. Rarely, do we estimate the man appropriately. Rarely, does the man appreciate it when we do.
What’s in view here is a disposition which shuts the mouths of critics and devotees alike. Pure servants are rare. (Like a unicorn running through your back yard kind of rare.) It’s like when a bond-servant steps forward to announces his master’s presence. The sooner he steps back the sooner his role is fulfilled. (No one recalls the name or skill of the park ranger who led them out on to the Sky Walk at the Grand Canyon. Which means… he performed flawlessly.) The more gifted he is at his role the more people look past him. When a gifted man esteems himself a slave of Christ and lives in view of his grandness – he can easily remain in the shadows even when he is the center of attention. The more attention he receives the more his life announces someone greater.
All this makes little sense in our economy of things. But, true humility has the capacity to hide the most gifted person in the wide open. Seriously, who cares about the slave when the Master is present? Before God, real giftedness is measured in how inclined the observer is to overlook you when you are done. It’s counter intuitive I know, but such is the way of God Almighty. It’s all in reverse. It’s analogous to the humility of Christ. His condescension is the reason we exalt him. His obscurity is the reason we proclaim him. His death is the reason we live. Similarly, honor is a love for obscurity. That is… if we view ourselves as slaves first.
Ministry is a bizarre turn of events. The servants of the risen Lord receive more honor on a given Sunday than their Lord did the entire time he was upon earth (of course, this won’t last.) Yet, the obscurity of our Lord is the reason we have platforms at all. And, we – in our moments of weakness – feel slighted when people rush past us to him. We’re insane. Yet, his righteous life saved me from the consequence of such stupidity. The praise Jesus deserves is a result of his selflessness. The praise we covet is a result of our selfishness. One saved us from the other. This is our message.
There are notable men among us whose gifts and ingenuity can’t be denied. They are uniquely gifted. Then there are those men (being clearly gifted above others) who announce Jesus from the shadow of their privileged position. The former you admire. With the latter you admire his admiration for Christ. It is a self-evident quality. We “rejoice” in their honor because they bring honor to Christ. We can’t quite see them and see them nonetheless. We’re grateful for them, but realize rocks are in a queue waiting to step in. Besides, Jesus needs no introduction. He is all. Our opportunities are merely an infinite redundancy built into a universe designed to praise him whether we ever exist or not.
Thank you Community Bible Church for letting me lead you out into the abyss of Christ’s glory every Sunday.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Thinking Like Jesus by R.C. Sproul
Thinking Like Jesus
by R.C. Sproul
Several years ago, I was asked to give a convocation address at a major theological seminary in America. In that address, I spoke about the critical role of logic in biblical interpretation, and I pleaded for seminaries to include courses on logic in their required curricula. In almost any seminary’s course of study, students are required to learn something of the original biblical languages, Hebrew and Greek. They are taught to look at the historical background of the text, and they learn basic principles of interpretation. These are all important and valuable skills for being good stewards of the Word of God. However, the main reason why errors in biblical interpretation occur is not because the reader lacks a knowledge of Hebrew or of the situation in which the biblical book was written. The number one cause for misunderstanding the Scriptures is making illegitimate inferences from the text. It is my firm belief that these faulty inferences would be less likely if biblical interpreters were more skilled in basic principles of logic.
Let me give an example of the kind of faulty inferences I have in mind. I doubt I have ever had a discussion on the question of God’s sovereign election without someone quoting John 3:16 and saying, “But doesn’t the Bible say that ‘God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life’”? I immediately agree that the Bible says that. If we were to translate that truth into logical propositions, we would say that all who believe will have eternal life, and no one who has eternal life will perish, because perishing and eternal life are polar opposites in terms of the consequences of belief. However, this text says absolutely nothing about human ability to believe in Jesus Christ . It tells us nothing about who will believe. Jesus said, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (John 6:44). Here we have a universal negative that describes ability. No person has the ability to come to Jesus unless a particular condition is met by God. Yet this is forgotten in light of John 3:16, which says nothing about a prerequisite for faith. So, John 3:16, one of the most famous texts in all of the Bible, is routinely, regularly, and systematically butchered with faulty inferences and implications.
Why do such illegitimate inferences happen? Classical Christian theology, particularly Reformed theology, talks about the noetic effects of sin. The English word noetic derives from the Greek wordnous, which is often translated as “mind.” So, the noetic effects of sin are those consequences of the fall of man on the human intellect. The entire human person, including all of our faculties, was ravaged by the corruption of human nature. Our bodies die because of sin. The human will is in a state of moral bondage, in captivity to the evil desires and impulses of the heart. Our minds, likewise, are fallen, and our very ability to think has been severely weakened by the fall. I would guess that Adam’s IQ before the fall was off the charts. I doubt that he was given to making illegitimate inferences in his time of tending the garden. Rather, his mind was sharp and acute. But he lost that when he fell, and we lost it with him.
However, the fact that we are fallen does not mean that we no longer have the ability to think. We are all prone to error, but we also can learn to reason in an orderly, logical, and cogent fashion. It is my desire to see Christians think with the utmost cogency and clarity. So, as a matter of discipline, it is much to our benefit to study and master the elementary principles of reasoning so that we can, by the help of God the Holy Spirit, overcome to a certain degree the ravages of sin upon our thinking.
I do not think for a moment that any of us, as long as sin is in us, will ever become perfect in our reasoning. Sin prejudices us against the law of God for as long as we live, and we have to fight to overcome these basic distortions of the truth of God. But if we love God, not only with all of our hearts, our souls, and our strength, but also with our minds (Mark 12:30), we will be rigorous in our attempts to train our minds.
Yes, Adam had a keen mind before the fall. But I believe the world has never experienced such sound thinking as was manifested in the mind of Christ. I think that part of the perfect humanity of our Lord was that He never made an illegitimate inference. He never jumped to a conclusion that was unwarranted by the premises. His thinking was crystal clear and coherent. We are called to imitate our Lord in all things, including His thinking. Therefore, make it a matter of chief and earnest business in your life to love Him with all of your mind.
I read this today on http://www.ligonier.org it contains great supplemental readings, devotionals and podcasts. If you're looking for something to add to your quiet times, or help structure them, I recommend to check it out!
I read this today on http://www.ligonier.org it contains great supplemental readings, devotionals and podcasts. If you're looking for something to add to your quiet times, or help structure them, I recommend to check it out!
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