The Borg Chase of Species 8472 and the Running Flock of Gallimimus on I-10

During my drive earlier today from Orange County, CA, back to Scottsdale, AZ, from an enjoyable Christmas with friends, I reflected on how traffic was like the armada of Borg chasing Species 8472 in Star Trek: Voyager Episode 168 and the running flock of Gallimimus in the first Jurassic Park movie.

When developing scenes involving imaginary characters and objects, film makers and writers tend to take their inspiration from their experiences, so what probably inspired the writers of the two scenes were similar drives to mine.

In the Star Trek scene, Voyager is flying along their happy way when all of a sudden, a huge subspace wake washes over them. When the crew of Voyager comes to their senses, they find a huge armada of Borg ships passing them at much faster speeds, all of which ignore them with the exception of one cube, which stops and does a quick scan before proceeding to catch up with the other cubes.

In the scene in Jurassic Park, a flock of Gallimimus are running along the meadow, moving along at a much faster clip than Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Hammond’s grandchildren. After Grant and the children move out of the way, one of the Gallimimus gets caught by a Tyrannosaurus Rex hiding just out of sight waiting for her dinner to show up.

With laws now requiring semis to go at 55 mph while other traffic may go faster, such as the speed limit of 70 mph that I was driving during one stretch of I-10, the experience like Voyager isn’t as common, but occasionally a slew of Hummers and jacked-up pickups would speed around me. During one experience, I felt a slight wash of air buffeting me from their wake. Now, a 2004 Toyota Camry isn’t a small car, but when you have enough cars going much faster, any car going slower will feel some effects by such a herd of automobiles.

And, watching out for drivers pushing their vehicles faster than the speed limit, a number of stretches of highway had their share of police officers sitting along the side of the road, some in full view but many hiding behind some cover, much like the Tyrannosaurus Rex in the Jurassic Park scene.

And some people think the drive of 400 miles from LA to Phoenix is boring.

I’m Dreaming of a Brown Christmas

It’s a dream of many to wake up to a snowy Christmas morning, at least for those living in the northern hemisphere where it’s the winter season. In fact, it’s a common theme in many modern Christmas songs to have snow associated with Christmas just like evergreen trees, holly, and mistletoe are displayed in many homes. I remember as a child growing up in southeast Kansas that it was something I also looked forward to seeing.

As an adult, I’ve learned that snow, while fun to play in and enjoy the beauty of its crystals gleaming in the sun, can also be a bit of a hazard for drivers and the paint jobs on cars, but I’m not one of those who abhor any presence of snow; in fact, I was just thinking that it’s been around six years since I went snow skiing, and my church’s singles group is going to Mammoth in northern California at the end of February, so I might have to make that a priority.

I’m not sure when, if at any time, the Orange County area in California has ever had a white Christmas, but I was awakened last night by heavy gusts of wind blowing around my hotel in Foothill Ranch. After a period of time praying that no open flames were exposed to the winds (it would be awful to remember Christmas 2007 as the start of another series of California wildfires), I finally fell back to sleep, and when I woke up Christmas morning, I looked out my window upon the Courtyard’s pool and found that rather than white snow on the ground, we got a covering of brown dirt! In the picture above, you can see the pool’s bottom, where not covered by pool furniture, almost completely covered in dirt.

Since it was a bit chilly, and everyone had other things planned for Christmas Day, getting in the pool wasn’t that big a priority for the guests staying at Marriott’s Courtyard in Foothill Ranch, so the staff didn’t plan on cleaning it until the next day. It wasn’t too long ago that the pool had been drained and cleaned to get rid of all the ash that the area wildfires had deposited there.

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

As I was going through the pictures on my mobile phone today, I found a picture I took of some teddy bears that I remembered were set out at Starbucks during the time that Akeelah and the Bee was released in 2006. Since the movie was a co-production of Starbucks, one of their marketing methods included placing spelling bee cards around the store, giving customers the chance to learn more about some unique words and to keep the movie in mind.

As I looked closer at the picture, the word on the spelling bee card placed in the midst of the teddy bears sitting at the foot of the counter at Starbucks caught my attention:

I didn’t realize that Starbucks’ teddy bears needed such loving care!

As I thought about, I recalled an episode of Star Trek in which Mr. Spock described his childhood Vulcan teddy bear—also known as a sehlat—a living, giant teddy-bear-like creature with six-inch fangs, indigenous to the rainforests of Vulcan’s southern hemisphere.

Perhaps Starbucks imports their teddy bears from Vulcan, since most coffee beans are grown in the rainforests of Earth’s southern hemisphere, making the sehlats right at home.

As Mr. Spock would say, “Fascinating.”

Expect Delays!!!

In life, we expect everything to be immediate. We expect to find our perfect job after we graduate from college, be married within five years, have all our kids before we turn 30, and find a parking space when we go shopping during Christmas time.

A friend of mine told me she thought that parking at the mall was the real challenge to the Christmas spirit; she followed it up by saying that if you still want to listen to Christmas music after leaving the mall, you’ve had a successful trip.

Well, I say that in order to keep your sanity while driving through parking lots, you should sing Bugs Bunny’s and Elmer Fudd’s interpretation of The Ride of the Valkyries from Die Walküre…nothing brings a greater smile during a trying time in the same way. Then, when you leave the parking lot, shift immediately to the Hallelujah chorus, making sure to start with the rolling refrain ...and He shall reign for ever and ever! before breaking into the series of punctuated Hallelujah’s that follow.

Yeah, I don’t think it’ll help much either, but at least you’ll keep your sense of humor.

Merry Christmas!

Going Platinum

For those who travel frequently, as I do between Scottsdale, AZ, and Orange County, CA, one of the things we all do is try to maximize our points so we can earn more points. For example, I recently accumulated the 90 segments required by US Airways to get to Platinum status, which means that I get higher dibs on first class upgrades than those with Gold or Silver status. However, the Chairman status travelers (120 segments or more in a year) get first dibs over us Platinums, but that’s okay, as for my miles, I get more bonus points, 75%, for each mile I fly than I did when I was Gold or Silver. And I’ve similarly gotten up there with Marriott and Hertz.

But you’ve really arrived when you get a Christmas card hand-delivered from your local Starbucks! Okay, so I practically live at Starbucks—I feel embarrassed when I fill out those surveys and have to specify that I drink at Starbucks more than 30 times a month, and I’m not talking about those months that have 31 days in them—so it does feel like home.

The decorations also are out, and while it doesn’t come close to the 115 foot Christmas tree at Fashion Island in Newport Beach, CA, having Christmas wreathes encircling the P.F. Chang’s horses’ necks is definitely a unique touch for Scottsdale, AZ. And, those palm trees decorated with Christmas lights—nothing says desert Christmas like those.

Sharks Circling Their Prey

As I mentioned before, the Kierland Commons in Scottsdale, AZ, can be quite a busy place during the Christmas shopping season, and from about 6:00 pm until 9:00 pm, drivers circle the parking lot searching for their prey…an open parking space.

Some will take as long as 15 minutes just to find a space (a five minute drink at Starbucks is worth it). The hunting habits of such drivers can be quite fascinating. At first, a driver will circle the lots in search of an open space, expecting one to be available, but when disappointment sets in, he or she will then go into stalking mode, mirroring the hunting habits of the great cats of the wild.

The first thing a driver does is slow down, looking over the tops of other cars and through the windows of others, checking out the rows downlot in order to avoid an unnecessary trip down a full row. A favorite target for drivers is a shopper heading towards the parking lot with large bags under her arms.

Once the driver has spotted their prey, they move in for the kill—sometimes accelerating to as fast as 40 mph and stopping within 10 feet so as to allow the leaving driver enough room to move her car but not enough room for a rival driver to sneak in during the time when the leaving driver has moved out of the way and before he or she can acquire their fresh kill. Such dexterity and cunning is a skill honed only through constant practice, and the Kierland Commons has many skilled hunters.

If a driver has turned on his or her blinkers, most rival drivers will recognize the marked territory and move on to easier prey, but when drivers become hungry, they’ll take even the tightest compact space, regardless of how few inches separate their car door from the Hummer or SUV beast in the next space. Such placement makes sun roofs with remote controls a very popular addition to some cars; without such an advantage, it can be physically impossible otherwise for a driver to leave his or her car. The only other way for a driver to get out of his or her car in such tight quarters is to be actively employed at a car rental agency in an airport where such parking skills are practiced hourly.

The True Meaning of the First Amendment

While working out at the gym this morning, I heard on the news about two city employees suing the city government of Oklahoma City for preventing them from putting up Christian objects related to Christmas in their offices. I thought, “Cool! A lawsuit related to the First Amendment that actually makes sense!”

Anyone who has actually read the Constitution and the First Amendment and chooses to be honest about what they’ve read would have to admit that our government, basically, cannot establish a religion nor can it deny a person’s right to exercise his or her religious beliefs—well, human sacrifice, rape, and other illegal activities are exceptions to this, and all rational people would agree, especially any Christian celebrating Christmas for what it truly means.

According to Byron Babione as reported on NewsOK.com:

“The attacks on Christmas are simply part of a larger war being waged on anything and everything Christian,” the fund’s senior legal counsel, Byron Babione, said in a statement. “It’s ridiculous that city employees are being told that they cannot display symbols central to their faith during the Christmas season.”

Keep this incident in prayer so that the Constitution of the United States of America and the First Amendment may be upheld.

What About That Guy?

The Connections Singles Ministry at Mariners Church in Irvine, CA, had a wonderful Christmas party last night with over 500 singles from all over the world attending. I used to be the farthest-traveling attender, coming from Arizona, but I met a woman at the dance who came from Japan…oh well.

The band was great, the people were great, the food was great, and I enjoyed dancing with a number of attractive women all night long!

I really don’t like taking posed pictures (it’s the old-time photojournalist in me that wants to capture people acting naturally), but I did take one of my friends Thomas Rose, the Connections singles pastor, along with Pamela Acker, Alan Kindred, and Valerie Graves. As I was preparing the pictures for the Connections web site, I noticed someone else just above Alan’s head, watching the dance floor from a higher vantage point.

Who could it be? Who do you think it is?

Looks like he was really “digging” the party.

I kid you not, the unidentified guest pictured to the left really was in the original picture, oblivious that his pose would be saved for posterity.

Black Friday Affects Everyone Differently

I love going out in the shopping world the day after Thanksgiving Day, the day also known as Black Friday because it’s the day when many retail businesses expect to move from the red to the black, a way of saying their balance sheets go from the negative to the positive.  No, I’m not out there looking for the great deals.  I just love being in the ebbs and flows of the sea of humanity, watching families as they start their Christmas shopping, as mothers push their little ones in their strollers, especially in those double- and triple-long versions that require deft maneuverability to avoid collisions with others on sidewalks and around shop corners.

Since I decided to take this entire week off to work on my stories and web sites, I’ve been spending most of the day in the Kierland Commons Starbucks where the lines and tables have rarely been empty for long since 7:30 am.  I’ve helped one woman get her MacBook Pro connected to the T-Mobile WiFi network, listened to a family debate the merits of botox, orange peels, and living in the 10°-cooler summer weather of Las Vegas compared with Phoenix (i.e., 110° vs. 120°), watched the same little boy come in today with a Rudolph toy to replace his Abominable Snowman he had yesterday.  I think he was less scared of Rudolph since he had removed his packaging while the Abominable Snowman (his mother told me he called him Bumble) remained safely in his box the entire time he was at Starbucks yesterday.

And then there’s the regulars:  the two twenty-something girls studying to be homeopathic doctors still reading and taking notes as though there was no break, the group of middle-aged men who occupy the comfy chairs by the door in order to greet every attractive woman as they enter and wish them a good day as they leave, and little Amy, who appears to now have a boyfriend!  Well, since most of the regulars come in as part of their pre-workday routine, not as many showed up since most were on vacation and spending time with family and friends or getting that much needed sleep they neglected since the last holiday.

A few things I don’t look forward to during this time is the dearth of parking spaces throughout the day (I could probably get a spot at most places if I arrive before 4:00 am), the 40 mph speed limit observed by people going around the blind corners in parking lots and the much faster speeds common along lanes where visibility is good as drivers search for any available parking spaces, and the parking lot space stalking that happens when a person walks to their car and are noticed by a driver who then blocks traffic for those of us who don’t mind parking an extra 50 feet away or are trying to leave the parking lot to go somewhere else.

Today, I had a new experience to associate with the holidays.  When I was finishing up in the restroom, I heard someone banging on the door and twisting on the handle and then repeating the action as though I hadn’t heard it the first time just a second before.  In case you aren’t aware of it, Starbucks has single-person men’s and women’s restrooms; of course, there is the Starbucks in Newport Beach that can hold 29 people, but I digress.  If I hadn’t been in the process of washing my hands, that prodding at the door might’ve assisted me in completing my prior actions.

When I left the restroom, I almost ran into the guy who had banged on the door, and I gave him as dirty a look as I could while trying to be somewhat polite (that’s hard to do; try it sometime).  His expression showed that he regretted his actions, and he apologized, saying “I’m sorry; someone said a woman had been in the women’s restroom for 15 minutes and hadn’t come out.”

I looked at him like he was crazy.  After all, I had been in the men’s restroom, and no one would ever mistake me for a woman; besides, I hadn’t been in the restroom for that long, and even if I had, banging on the door would not prompt me to leave before I completed my business!  I thought about asking him if he wanted to help me the next time I used the restroom, but I decided against it, afraid he might agree.

I hope that guy decided to go home and relax after he finished using the restroom; some people just can’t handle Black Friday.

Marking Your Luggage

Anyone who flies the friendly skies can tell you that most luggage looks the same. If you recall from history, one of the industrial revolution’s effects was that products began to be mass produced rather than being hand-made one at a time, allowing replacement parts to be easy to come by when something broke down.

However, when a traveler needs to find their luggage quickly at the baggage claim carousel so they can leave the airport to make an important meeting, and not pick up someone else’s same-brand baggage, all airlines recommend travelers place a unique identifying string or tag on their luggage so it’s easily recognizable from other travelers’ baggage.

I guess one traveler takes this recommendation very seriously!

I just bought a red Velcro-attachable handle and tag with my name on it for my black Travelpro rollerboard.

The Gospel According to P.F. Chang's

I always enjoy a good lunch at P.F. Chang’s, and one of my favorite dishes is their Kung Pao Chicken. Most people ignore the chili peppers that come on the plate, but I see them as one of the treats of ordering the dish. I have a slightly broken upper molar on the right side of my mouth, and there’s a place where my gums are slightly exposed. When I bite into a fire roasted chili pepper and let it’s juice flow over my teeth, gums, and tongue, you just can’t describe the incredible reaction that comes from that experience.

I once read that chili peppers are spicy because their juice is a mild poison, but like The Dread Pirate Roberts with respect to iocaine powder, one can build up an immunity and even a healthy taste for the fruit of the chili. No, I don’t enter any chili pepper or jalapeno eating contests; those are won by people who swallow the peppers whole. To truly enjoy such a delight, you must bite into it and chew, and swallowing one whole just doesn’t do the job. And to really enjoy the flavor of a chili pepper, a glass of Berenger White Zinfandel to wash it down is my choice (I also keep a glass of water nearby just in case).

To finish off a Chinese meal, there’s also the fortune cookie. I don’t subscribe to any belief in such things, but I do enjoy reading what’s inside. I’ve had my fair share of predictive writings as well as merely wise sayings. Today, however, I found a very intriguing insert in my cookie:

You do not have to worry about your future.

And how true is that! As a Christ-follower, I know that my future is secured by the sacrifice that Jesus made on the cross. I know that I’ll have trials while here on earth, but I know that when this life is over, I’ll spend all eternity with my Heavenly Father in Heaven along with those who have also put their trust in Christ.

Some days can really be stressful and others can be pleasant, but we know that if we’ve put our trust in God, we do not have to worry about our future! In the meantime, we should live for Him, serve Him, enjoy what He’s given us, and learn from our experiences.

My ISP’s Vision of What E-Mail Should Say

When I first registered my web site’s domain name in 1999, I signed up under one of GTE Hosting’s web site hosting plan, which provided me with a reasonably good package of features. In those days, I really didn’t need a whole lot beyond server-side CGI using Perl. As the years went by, GTE Hosting became Verizon Hosting, and Verizon Hosting got spun off into Idearc Media Corp. recently.

With that spin-off, some things changed. While I got larger disk space and greater server-side offerings, including MySQL database support and a web mail client with IMAP support, I also lost my dedicated IP address, something that help you with some search engines. And, along with that change, I also found myself being served by a company with arguably the most inept customer service department!

Having worked in a variety of capacities in the web development industry, I have tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but some months ago, I finally had to contact their investor relations group to get some very basic issues resolved. And, they did—well, they only halfway-resolved them, but it was good enough.

Today, I’m thinking it’s time to go even higher.

About a month ago, I joined an e-mail list group related to the business of Macintosh software development and found that about a quarter of my e-mails from the list appeared to be spam, so I just deleted them and moved on. However, as I read some e-mails recently, I began to get concerned that I was once again not getting all the e-mails I was supposed to get, one of the issues that I had to contact Idearc’s investor group to get resolved. Before going through the hassle of trying to find someone who knows how to do their job at Idearc, I decided to look at the contents of one of those supposed-spam e-mails and found that Idearc’s web mail software was only showing me a small portion of the e-mails.

When I found that Idearc’s web mail software was the cause of my losing potentially important e-mails, I was very angry, but I decided to send them screenshots and a sample e-mail that was being convoluted by their web mail software. Below is what their web mail shows:


Below is what the latest version of Microsoft Entourage shows. Note the highlighted sections that are common between the two.


The response I got back from Idearc made me livid:

Hello Gary,

Thank you for contacting Superpages Technical Support!

We have investigated the issue and have found out that the Webmail works properly. Please see the attached screenshot of Webmail. It looks like the issue is on your end. Please check the settings of your Internet browser and email client. If the issue persists please provide us with the screenshots where the issue appears.

We are available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for additional assistance, and invite you to contact us if you have any additional concerns.

Regards,

N.C.U
Technical Support Specialist
mysuperpageshosting.com
1-877-988-3775
support@mysuperpageshosting.com

To assist us in serving you better, please do not delete any portion of the Technical Support Specialist correspondences.

The moral to this story is: Stay away from Idearc Media Corp. For a modern ISP to say that their software works correctly when it is so obviously flawed tells me that they don’t want any serious customers.

An Australian’s View of Overhead Storage

When I got ready to board my Friday afternoon flight from Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport to John Wayne Airport, I noticed a woman that I’ve sat next to on a few of my regular weekend flights was waiting to board our semi-on-time flight, so I went over and talked with her. If you think my story is unusual, you should hear about her travel life. Both her and her husband have children from previous marriages, and they work together in the real estate market. The really unusual part about this is he lives in Austin, TX, and she lives in Newport Beach, CA, with their respective children, and during the week, she spends it with him in Austin and her weekends are spent in California—her children are old enough to take care of themselves, but if they weren’t, that would take the term latch-key children to a whole new level!

When our flight was finally ready to board, we walked down the jetway, and when I noticed where she was sitting, I told her I had thought about booking that seat earlier, but since it was 1-A on a 737, I was pretty sure I’d be dodging everyone’s feet as they boarded—my legs are a little long, and that seat is right next to the door.

Since I also was in the first row, 1-F, I had to store my computer bag in the overhead storage as the galley was in front of me with a solid partition separating it from my seat. Just after I put my bag away, a man with a very thick Australian accent sitting next to my frequent travel companion asked me, “Would you like to store that in the next bin?” Confused as to his request, I replied, “No, thank you, I like it where it is.” With full bore, he replied with a huff, “You taking up enough room for four people!”

Since the Australian was of European descent and not aboriginal, being only slightly shorter than me, I was confused by what he was getting at—at first, I took him literally. Yes, my computer bag is a bit overstuffed and may weigh 25 lbs. with all my cables, camera, and computer stuffed in there, but it easily fits under the seat in front of me on most airplanes (I’ve only had problems with Airbus jets in first class), and since it wouldn’t even fit a 17" laptop in it, a small child is bigger than it, so I imagined him—in true J.D.-daydreaming-on-Scrubs form—trying to shove four small people into an overhead bin. Okay, that thought didn’t last long, since it was just as ridiculous as the man’s claim about my luggage, although I have heard there is a mafia presence in Australia…I’ve seen a few Jackie Chan movies to back that up.

My second thought was that Australian planes must be made for smaller people and he was used to not having any overhead space. That thought was readily dismissed, too, as I had spent time in New Zealand in college and knew that planes in that area of the world were not, on principle, cramped cattle cars, especially in the first class cabin where we were seated.

So, I finally just chalked it up to a very exhausted and/or drunken man’s imagination and chose not to talk across the aisle for the hour-long flight to the woman living a more unusual travel/home life than mine. She also was surprised at his outburst, as she spent the entire flight engrossed in her book, only moving once to use the restroom and the other time to reply about the book she was reading to the flight attendants sitting in the jump seat across from her as we were landing—she’s usually a very talkative person.

Every Starbucks Has It’s Own Personality

After I arrive in Orange County on Friday afternoons, I usually drop by the Starbucks on MacArthur Boulevard and Campus Drive next to the John Wayne Airport at 4678 Campus Drive, Newport Beach, CA 92660, to get my favorite drink, a triple-shot, venti, no-whip-cream, six-pump, whole-milk white mocha, before heading over to meet up with friends.

As far as Starbucks shops go, it’s a smaller one with early morning hours but closing relatively early in the evenings, typical of those located in high business traffic areas, but that’s not its claim to fame. No, although this Starbucks is small, its restroom has been designed to accommodate 29 people at once! Yes, I was surprised, too, but see the picture to the left for the proof! In fact, since the first time I noticed this feature, they even had an inspector come in to verify the limit! Unfortunately, my camera phone didn’t produce a very good picture, so I inset the signs detailing the maximum occupancy allowed and the inspector’s approval in the bottom right portion of the picture.

When I questioned the staff working there the last time I came in, they were mum on the topic, and at least a couple of them didn’t realize that their small store had such a large restroom! I have since verified that Starbucks does allow its employees to use the onsite restroom facilities, so there must be another explanation about why they were unaware of their own restroom’s size. If you don’t believe me, drop by and check it out for yourself! And, if you find other Starbucks with such spacious restrooms, please post a response where we can see your pictures verifying this.

Besides having such a large restroom, the staff at this Starbucks also has a couple of Top Lists posted, one titled You know you’ve been working at Starbucks too long when…

• You hear phantom beeping noises
• Sleeping in is staying in bed past 7 am
• All your black shirts smell permanently of espresso
• You have acquired a love for soy in your drinks
• Or you just drink straight espresso (There really isn’t much middle ground here)
• You know the names and drinks of our regulars (Most of us know over 20 of them from memory)
• You’re addicted to caffeine, usually low on sleep, and this is still the most fun you’ve ever had at a job!

and the other titled You might be a regular if…

• We usually start making your drink before you get to the register
• We know your name and what you do for a living
• We notice when you are running late
• We sometimes (or always) see you more than once a day
• You come to our Starbucks even though it’s not the closest one to your work or home
• You miss us while you’re on vacation
• We miss YOU while you’re on vacation
• You are why we love our job!!!
  

And people complain that Starbucks coffee costs too much! With such care at building a community next to an airport, this Starbucks has definitely earned my smile.

A Lazy Sunday Afternoon…

My writing today was more productive than the last couple of days, although my total word count for the entire story, at the time I ended writing today, is at a good, solid 5,555 words—not 5,556 or 5,554, but 5,555, and, no, I did NOT add or subtract a word just to make this number come out that way.

Tomorrow, being my first day to return to work after my week-long writing vacation, I will write my 5,556 word. However, I cannot guarantee that word number 5,557 will be written or any more, but since my writing productivity hasn’t been this good until this week, that is my goal. I guess I could make a goal to make it to the next digitally repetitive number (6,666), but I need to accomplish baby steps, and if my NaNoWriMo must become a NaNoWri2Mo, then so be it.

Although my writing didn’t progress as far as I’d hoped today, I did have some interesting conversations at Starbucks, and the shop was lively otherwise. One of the workers passed out some buy-one-get-one-free drink coupons for the remaining weekends of September. He gave everyone one each but gave five each to a couple of attractive medical students who also frequent the shop. I told the girls that they should’ve held out for completely-free-drink coupons—after all, the coupons made them buy at least one drink (although they usually do that), and a true gentleman would pay for a lady’s drink. You know, the coupons virtually guarantee the phrase “Can I buy you a drink?” to be heard in the halls of Starbucks for the rest of the month.

On a more serious note, a Jewish girl that frequents the shop asked me, based on my knowledge and beliefs, whether it was the Jews or the Romans that put Jesus to death, to which I answered, based on what the Gospels say, the Jewish leaders of the day sentenced Jesus to death but, since Roman law forbade them from executing anyone, they turned him over to the Roman authorities to be executed. So, in a sense, it was both the Jewish and Roman authorities that executed Jesus. In addition to this, I pointed out that it was not the Jews nor the Romans as an entire people that performed the act of putting Jesus to death, just the leaders.

Another topic that came up was about when the miracle occurred for Jesus’ conception and when Mary actually became pregnant, to which I just replied that a woman becomes pregnant when an egg is fertilized and attaches itself to a woman’s uterus, and that the same happened in Mary’s case, although the act of fertilization happened in a very supernatural way, an intervention by God himself, which was the miracle.

A followup question was whether I was a good Christian or not. I just told the people at my table that while I am better than some, I’m also worse than others, but compared to a holy God that is perfect, I am not perfect and am not without sin, and since being a Christian means being a “little Christ,” I and every other Christian that has ever existed or will exist can never be a “good” Christian; after all, Christ himself, God in the flesh, said that no one is good—except God.

On a lighter note, one of my table mates asked how God could be perfect if the pit of the avocado is so huge compared to the entire avocado! Even though I took it as a light-hearted question (I guess he really likes guacamole), I did answer that creation, as God intended it, was perfect but that with the sin of Adam and Eve, all of creation changed, although there’s no way of knowing how big the pit of the avocado was before Adam and Eve sinned.

On a more serious note, the question came up about how we could still have faith based on stories from millennia ago. I said that having faith in something is what we do all the time but that having faith in Christ is not, nor should it be, a blind faith. Rather than getting into a discussion about why we should have faith and how that faith can be fostered by an honestly-seeking skeptic, I mentioned that Lee Strobel’s series of books The Case for Christ, The Case for Faith, The Case for a Creator, and The Case for the Real Jesus are well written from a skeptical journalist’s perspective, involving interviews with experts along many disciplines, answering the tough questions most people would ask.

The question was also posed as to why we celebrate Christmas on December 25 when that was most likely not the day Jesus was born on. My answer to that was that during those days, kings’ birthdays may not have been celebrated on the actual day of their birth but the most important thing is that they were celebrated. I also mentioned that there’s some speculation that Christ was born during the Feast of Tabernacles, based on the passage that says he dwelt with us. And, I followed up about the adoption of December 25 as being the early Christians’ attempt to do something significant during a pagan holiday that they would not partake in.

All-in-all, I think it was a good Sunday. I may not have accomplished all I had in mind to accomplish, but I believe I accomplished all that God intended for me to accomplish.

The Beginning of the End of Labor Day Week

Since it’s now the Saturday after Labor Day, I realize that my vacation is quickly coming to a close.

Since I’ve been trying to get some of my story ideas off of sticky notes and into some sense of developed outline or fleshed out prose, I took off the full week of Labor Day so I could concentrate on these tasks.

Well, it has been a good week, and more than two chapters of one story have escaped into my computer. While that’s not a lot for some writers, it’s definitely been an accomplishment for me. Unfortunately, with only 4,100 words written in one week, I doubt I’ll make the NaNoWriMo goal of 50,000 words in one month.

Yes, I can blame it on my internal editor, that insidious dark lord dwelling deep in my subconscious that reaches out and decimates any incomplete or inane thought before it reaches my hands resting on my keyboard, or I could blame it on the presence of the other Starbucks day patrons—after a few days of seeing the same people, it begins to be quite a community. A photographer who witnessed me get pizza delivered to my table (the delivery guy recognized me from a few other prior deliveries) and then P.F. Chang’s take-out from next door the day after has now taken to asking me what I plan on eating for lunch (I wonder now if he asks because he’s a “starving artist”). Since I don’t want to pack up and leave for lunch, it does limit my choices a bit, but the Kierland Commons shopping center in Phoenix, AZ, does provide a number of options. Of course, Starbucks does have some nice salads and bakery goods, but I’m a man and need a hearty meal!

Of course, the real reason for not being as productive as I’d hoped is that I really needed a vacation from work, and while writing a novel with dozens of people around me is different than developing software in a cubicle with only myself for company, the fact is I’m still sitting in front of a computer for hours on end. I thought about asking for another week off, but my manager wouldn’t get the electronic request until Monday, so I’d still have to go in for at least that day. Maybe I’ll plan another week or partial week later in the month; I heard there’s a great writer’s conference in Dallas in a couple weeks, and it’s been a while since I’ve been there.

Since I wanted to maximize my writing time, I decided to stay in Arizona this weekend, and I’m already missing my friends I usually do stuff with on Friday nights through Sunday nights. On the other hand, a good number left on a weekend cruise and most others have various things going on, so I might have been solo most of the weekend anyway.

I think what I need right now is a reading break!

Weekday Wars IV: A New Hope (that I won’t sing)

Well, it’s Thursday, the fourth day in my creative writing week off from work, and here’s my creation for the day:

Woke up, got out of bed,
    dragged Gillette across my head,
Drove my car to Starbucks, got a cup,
    checked my cell phone, I noticed I was late,
Ran to my car, turned the key,
    made the light in seconds flat,
Found my way to my desk, dropped my pack,
    Somebody spoke and I plugged in my iPod.

Okay, I like to convolute lyrics to some famous song (A Day In The Life by the Beatles, in this case) or saying when I’m in a major brainstorming mode, and I’m sure everyone’s glad I just write or speak my creations and don’t sing them. I think this hearkens back to enjoying the word play wrought by the gentle giant Fezzik in the Princess Bride against his comrades’ ears.

Well, at least it’s better than anything a Vogon would write!

The Parking Habits of Teenagers

I’m all for allowing teenagers to drive; after all, I was a teenager once, and while the town I grew up in was small enough that having my own car wasn’t as necessary as it would be if I lived in Scottsdale, AZ, I remember fondly how important it was to me to be able to get around.

What I am against is giving teenagers permission to repeatedly drive and park badly, and one teenager in particular needs to learn what it means to do those things: the son of my next door neighbor.

The first time I had to let my neighbor know that his son wasn’t qualified to drive was at 4:45 am on a weekday morning when I tried to back out of my garage to go to the gym. Thankfully, my brake lights illuminated his car enough before I pulled out of my garage and ran right into his car. Since my neighbor recently moved from Texas and all the family’s cars had a Texas safety inspection sticker in their windows, I knew whose car it belonged to, so I rang my neighbor’s doorbell. Finally, the father of the family came to the door. I asked him if the car parked behind my garage belonged to him and told him that it was parked in my space, preventing me from leaving. He said yes, disappeared inside, and came back with a set of keys and moved the car. He apologized for his son, saying he didn’t think anyone lived in my apartment. I assured him that I have been living in that apartment for almost three years, far longer than they had been living in their place.

As the days passed, I found no hindrance to getting out of my garage, but then, one day, I found my neighbor’s son parking in such a way behind his father’s car that I had to pull forward and back up more than four times just to keep from hitting his car; not only was it dangerously parked, it was illegally parked, too. Every time this happened, I left a message with my apartment complex management, detailing the issue. However, nothing changed, and the boy kept parking his car badly.

I finally got fed up when I noticed how ineptly his parking was performed for the last time. As detailed in the above picture, his car was well in front of my garage, so I left a note on the car, called the police department, and left another message with my apartment complex management (it was one of the few times in my life when my choice of language was rife with not-so-socially-acceptable Anglo-Saxon terms). Finally, I got a response that this poor behavior would not be tolerated. I did get out of my garage, but thankfully, I wasn’t late to my appointment that morning.

The next time it happens (it hasn’t now for four months, thankfully), I’m calling a tow truck.