Hurts So Good

The other day I went with my dad out to a piece of property that he owns, 4 acres of trees and brambles. We walked around it, hacking our way through the brush, him telling me stories about when he did this there or that here. He imparted some wisdom to me, and we had a good time. I was sore afterwords, as he probably was, and a little bit bloody from blackberry attacks, but it was good. This is a rare thing in our relationship. Tomorrow I am going to go out there again and hack away for a little bit, and I know, strange as it is, that in the land I will feel closer to my dad. I know that on Sunday I am going to be so sore that I probably won't want to move, but I will appreaciate every ache.

My dad and I have a tenuous relationship. We don't always get along, but when we do I genuinely have a good time with him and I genuinely feel a kinship, in the truest sense of the word. But the thing is, we have to work so hard to get to that spot. While I wish it weren't that way, I am beginning to accept it for what it is. Growth comes through suffering, this is one of the most valuable lessons I have ever learned; it never comes easy. So too I think is the truth that the really good stuff always hurts at first, or maybe just at some point. Nothing worth having comes easy, cliche but true.

I suppose I didn't really have much to say, I just felt like letting some if this out.

Still Around

It's been just over 5 months since I've been here; I was afraidI forgot the password. It's easy to let things like this slide when there are so many other things happening. I plan on writing, and then something happens and I think that waiting one more day won't matter, and one more day turns into a week which turns into a month which turns into a, well, at least I'm sure that I didn't leave a gaping hole in anyone's life other than mine.

Things are changing.....

Some things have gotten bad, so bad, so very bad. Some things are getting better, but it's happening so slowly. And some things just aren't moving at all.

It's time to reconcile some things, it's time to end others. I'm so unsure, but I am becoming more sure with every word I write (well, type).

Things are going to change, I can't stop it......

I hope this works.

Wicked Little Things

Yesterday I took my daughter to the little playground and the Clackamas Town Center mall. This has become somewhat of a tradition for us, as I don’t work Monday’s but Jenny almost always does. It is Daddy-Daughter Day, and so we look for fun things to do together. Often that means French fries and the aforementioned play structures.

Now, for someone looking to study the behaviors of parents and/or their children, the play structure at the mall (hence forth referred to has “the toys”) make an excellent learning environment. There are so many fascinating behaviors to be observed, speeches to be heard, and so on, but it is two things in particular that spur me to blogging this day, and they are two opposite extremes.

The first is the very small children. Specifically, the very small children that are allowed to wander about virtually (and sometimes literally) unattended by parents, who for some reason think these big toys provide some sort of magical protections against injuries and evils. A few weeks ago when we were there and I was waiting for my daughter to slide down the slide there was a little girl who was a bit overzealous in her climbing and took a bit of a tumble. Other than the slight violation of social moirés that took place when I caught her, I don’t mind helping out like that; I mean, were all parents with toddlers, right? One big, happy family? What I do mind is when I have to actively intervene to protect a child that somebody else should have been watching in the first place. I am not a busybody parent, I don’t make it my business to police the toys and in fact I try my best to stay out of whatever it is someone else’s kid is doing, so you know if I am intervening than things have come to a head. So, having said that, please parents, do not let your 6 month old sit at the bottom of the slide and get run into by child after child coming down it. Please don’t make me move my daughter, who is going about it the right way, so she won’t injure your kid, who is not. THAT REALLY IRRITATES ME.

On the other end of the really little kids are the really big ones. The worst violation of this I ever saw was a child and his friend who were somewhere between the ages of 10 and 12. Generally though this applies to the kids are about 4 or 5, still young enough to play on the toys, and darn well old enough to know how to play nicely. Listen, every kid is naughty sometimes. My daughter sometimes has to work very hard to repress her urge to hit, and sometimes she needs my help to do so. So I will not judge you if I see you stopping your sweet little boy from pushing and then pinching my kid; I will be grateful! I will be somewhat more judgmental as I watch your kid beat the snot out of other little kids and shout about how the slide is his personal property all while you remains blissfully absorbed in your book or on your cell phone. My daughter, who is not yet two, made her way up the stairs to the slide a happy little girl, and by the time I made it around the other side to cheer her on she was in tears as some older boy was pushing her out of the way. She actually isn’t that big of a crier, this kid was making some sort of point, I think. We got through that, and to her credit she responded by reminding another group of kids not to push when the really little kid, who I mentioned earlier, decided to try his luck with the slide. That was much better than my reaction. Right after she was pushed several times I told her that next time she could punch him in the face. I should work on that, probably.

Moral of the story: parent your child, don’t make me do it, because I am not nearly as good with your kid as I am with mine.

I Work for A.I.G.!

I heard there was a recession
But I ain’t felt a thing
That’s why I fly
On my private jet
And wear this hidden bling

I work for A.I.G.!
Yeah you know me!
I work for A.I.G.!
Let’s throw a party!

My maid, she has been crying
Says she can’t feed her child
I had to let her go
Cause don’t you know
Her emotions were too wild

I work for A.I.G.!
Yeah you know me!
I work for A.I.G.!
Do you see me?

I heard my company’s tankin’
But that’s ok, I found a chump
Hey Uncle Sam,
Could you lend me hand?
And get me over this financial hump?

I work for A.I.G.!
Yeah you know me!
I work for A.I.G.!
So give me more money!

They said there was a ruckus
Up on Capital Hill
But I never saw a thing
(cha ching!)
Except my stimulus bill!

I work for A.I.G.!
Yeah you know me!
I work for A.I.G.!
Gimme my bonus please!

Can't Think of What to Write, So I'll Let Them do it:

"The thing I have to work on in myself is this issue of belief. Gandhi believed Jesus when He said to turn the other cheek. Gandhi brought down the British Empire, deeply injured the caste system, and changed the world. Mother Teresa believed Jesus when He said everybody was priceless, even the ugly ones, the smelly ones, and Mother Theresa changed the world by showing them that a human being can be selfless. Peter finally believed the gospel after he got yelled at by Paul. Peter and Paul changed the world by starting small churches in godless towns." – Don Miller

"I mean that to be in a relationship with God is to be loved purely and furiously. And a person who thinks himself unlovable cannot be in a relationship with God because he can't accept who God is; a Being that is love. We learn that we are lovable or unlovable from other people. That is why God tells us so many times to love each other." – Don Miller

"The church has been preoccupied with the question, "What happens to your soul after you die?" As if the reason for Jesus coming can be summed up in, "Jesus is trying to help get more souls into heaven, as opposed to hell, after they die." I just think a fair reading of the Gospels blows that out of the water. I don't think that the entire message and life of Jesus can be boiled down to that bottom line." – Brian McLaren

"My goal is to destroy Christianity as a world religion and be a recatalyst for the movement of Jesus Christ," –Erwin McManus

“I think it is worth saying again that theology is not the same as the story of God. Far too often, in my opinion, this becomes an issue, and when one disagrees with our theology, we can too easily assume they have abandoned Scripture or the story of God. Theology is explanatory - answering certain questions or addressing certain issues. But it must never be confused with the life of God or the story of God” – Doug Pagitt

"Too much debate about scriptural authority has had the form of people hitting one another with locked suitcases. It is time to unpack our shorthand doctrines, to lay them out and inspect them. Long years in a suitcase may have made some of the contents go moldy. They will benefit from fresh air, and perhaps a hot iron." – N.T. Wright

This is probably my favorite of the group:

"The point of following Jesus isn’t simply so that we can be sure of going to a better place than this after we die. Our future beyond death is enormously important, but the nature of the Christian hope is such that it plays back into the present life. We’re called, here and now, to be instruments of God’s new creation, the world-put-to-rights, which has already been launched in Jesus and of which Jesus’ followers are supposed to be not simply beneficiaries but also agents." – N.T. Wright

Dinner for Two

Drinks at this resteruant were around $4.00 each. A minimally decent tip would be $13.00, which makes this dinner $60.00 per person. OR you can buy this stuff on sale at Safeway and have the same dinner for about $7.00-$10.00 per person. I'm just saying...

I've Gone Mental

So I’m not feeling overly creative today, so I am stealing stuff from other people and posting it here as my own (except that I just told you it wasn’t my own). I did, however, make several tweaks to the two things below. The first I tweaked so it would fit my context better, and the second one I tweaked because it was one NASTY rant, but illustrative of my point none-the-less.

How you KNOW I work in the mental health field:

You dream of a $35,000 a year salary, because that’s when you’ll know you’re 'really making it'.

You know all the latest lingo for drugs, where to get them, and how much they cost.

You start every sentence with 'So what I hear you saying is...'

You’ve had 2 or more jobs at one time just to pay the bills.

You tell people what you do and they say 'that's so noble' Except for clients, who think you just want their money (ha!).

You know a man who once held his penis in his hand, because he didn’t want it attached to anything else (and this seems perfectly reasonable to him).

You write ‘masturbation contracts’ for those that still have it attached.

You use the words 'validate,' 'appropriate' and 'intervention' daily.

You spend more than half your day documenting and doing paperwork.

You think nothing of discussing child abuse and the various used of poop over dinner.

People have said to you 'I don't know how you do what you do’ (and secretly you wonder the same thing).

You’ve never been on a business trip or had an expense account.

You’re coworkers sometimes rock back a forth and say ‘release me.’

You’re very familiar with the concept of entitlement.

Staying at a job for 2 years is 'a long time'.

Your phone number is unlisted for good reason.

Your professional newsletters always have articles about raising salaries...but you still haven't seen it.

You’re very familiar with the term 'budget cut'.

You can't imagine working at a bank or crunching numbers all day.

You’ve had clients who liked you just a little too much.

Having lunch is a luxury many days.

You’ve been cursed at or threatened...and it doesn't bother you.

Your job orientation has included self defense.

You have the best stories at any party, and some people walk away thinking you’re a liar because nobody could be that crazy or abused.

Your parents don't know half of the stuff that you've dealt with at your job.

You know how to pass any drug test.

You go to court to face off against a client with no judgment and his/her lawyer with no heart and it hurts every time, but you still do it.

Anytime someone’s kid does something weird you hear about it because they want you to fix it.

You’ve looked at another human being and truly wondered if they were, in fact, human.

*******

This I just found online by happenstance the other day. I think it was a Craigslist ‘rant.’ Again, I cleaned it up a bit (a lot). This is really borderline postable, if that’s a word, but really, people need to know:

After years of idealism, I have finally decided that I am sick and tired of helping the disenfranchised and oppressed. I have a master's degree in social work, and I've worked in a number of different settings. I've been a social worker for Children's Protective Services, a therapist on a psych ward, and I've worked as a case manager for a non-profit that shall remain nameless. I've had a number of clients over the years that I would now like to thank for helping me come to the realization that certain people are beyond help. 1) The mother and father who forced their newborn son to nurse from the family dog: Thank you!! I thought it was going to be just another typical Monday morning. You know, examining 4 year olds and finding anal warts encrusting their little rectums, watching 7 year old little Johnny masturbate the way that Daddy taught him to, and removing little Suzie from her home so Mommy wouldn't be able to put cigarettes out on her thighs anymore. Boring, run-of-the-mill stuff. Then you two beautiful people entered my life. Just in time, I might add! I was beginning to think that abusive parents were losing their sense of creativity. Silly me! What's that? Oh, I know it wasn't your fault. Of course not. No, I agree, formula IS really expensive these days. You're absolutely right, sir, it WOULD have been worse to just let the baby starve. Can I ask you just one question though? Do you think that maybe, just maybe, you could have used your WIC voucher to purchase some formula instead of selling it so you could buy a crack rock? Screw me, you say? Nope. SCREW YOU, you smarmy pile of rhino s*^%! Screw you and your crack whore "baby mama". Your child is coming with me! Merry Christmas! 2) The meth addict with Borderline Personality Disorder: Sweetie, here's a word of advice. When you are in the midst of a legal battle in which your parental rights are at stake, it is BAD for your case if you show up for your weekly supervised visits with your children spun out of your mind. Also, if you're going to have fresh track marks all over your arms, you should at least wear a long sleeve shirt so I can't see them. We talked about this before, remember? I have to write a report to the judge in a few months, and I can't in good conscience recommend that the court return your children to you when you insist on showing up to your weekly visits high as a kite, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a toothless grin. Also, it does not help your case if you assault me after I inform you that no, you can't see your kids today due to your inebriated state and your exposed vulva. I know you grew up in poverty, and I sympathize with your plight. Hell, I was poor growing up. My family was broke. We lived in the projects and never had no cheese for our hamburgers or nuthin. Somehow, though, we still managed to find ourselves some PANTS when we went out IN PUBLIC! 3) The guy who cut his own penis off and left it sitting on the altar at the Catholic church: Dude, the psychiatrist gave you the Haldol for a reason. You should really try taking it every now and then. You're really gonna kick yourself when you come out of this particular episode and realize that your johnson has transubstantiated into the body of Christ. Look, I agree that the Catholic church did some messed up stuff back in the day, but was this really necessary? What exactly did you think you were going to prove? Oh I know, I know, the voices told you to do it. But if the voices told you to go jump off of a bridge, would you do it? Wait, forget I said that. 4) The crackhead mother with 27 cats: I called you in advance to set up our appointment. You KNEW I was going to be at your house that day and that I would be evaluating your progress in making your home habitable so that your kids could be returned to you. So why, oh why did you answer the door with a CRACK PIPE IN YOUR HAND???? Oh, it's not yours? You were just holding onto it for your neighbor? Sure, I'll buy that. Let me ask you something though. Are those your neighbor's cat turds overflowing in the kirchen sink? No, you're right, those litter boxes ARE expensive. Perhaps you should consider getting rid of a few of the cats so there will be room for your children. Just a thought. By the way, is that your neighbor's blood coagulating over there on the couch? 5) The crack addict who prostituted her 8 year old son to support her drug habit: Congratulations! You have just managed to turn me into a supporter of the death penalty! What's that? You're concerned about having your little boy placed in an abusive foster home? Oh don't worry, your son is fine, dear. He won't be going to a foster home after all. You see, we had to place him in an institution because he now likes to save his feces in plastic bags so he can use them as lubrication when he jacks off onto women's panties. He also tries to rape other children. What causes him to do such awful things, you ask? Well, I'm not sure dear, but I'll hazard a guess. I could be wrong, but perhaps his current behaviors have something to do with the fact that his MOTHER RENTED OUT HIS ASS TO HUNDREDS OF PEDOPHILES TO SUPPORT HER CRACK HABIT!!!! I'd love to beat you upside the head with a tire iron. I'd probably lose my license if I did that, though. 6) To the woman who didn't want her child to be adopted by those "faggots": It's so refreshing to meet a woman who cares so much about her child for once! You're right, honey. The Bible DOES say that homosexuals are an abomination to God. Tell me, what does the Bible say about punishing your toddler for crying by sticking him with your dirty syringe needles, thereby infecting him with HIV and hepatitis? I know the Bible says "spare the rod and spoil the child", but I don't remember anything about sparing infectious diseases and spoiling the child. Perhaps you were reading the New International Version? Incidentally, those two "faggots", as you call them, have a few important things to offer your child that you have neglected to provide. What can a couple of faggots offer YOUR child, you ask? Well, first and foremost, they have JOBS!!!! Yes, that's right, JOBS!!!!!!! These jobs provide them with a trivial little thing known as HEALTH INSURANCE, which will be used to cover the medical treatment your child has to receive for the diseases that YOU gave him. These abominations to God are also capable of providing something called a HOME THAT IS NOT INFECTED WITH LICE AND CRACK. Finally, and most importantly, they will give him something known as LOVE. Ever heard of it? Ok, I feel much better now. I think I might go back to school for an MBA or something. I'm tired of working to help these people for 60 hours a week at $35,000/year.

That's One Way to Feel Special

I heard recently about what must be some really good ice cream. You can find it at a place called Serendipity in New York city. It’s a sundae, created to celebrate their fiftieth anniversary, and it only costs $1000. Yeah, one-thousand. Now, I’m not going to go into huge detail about what goes in to the sundae because that would bore me, with the exception of mentioning two ingredients: The first is the 23k gold topping (yeah, it’s edible) and the caviar that goes on the very top. Now, I truly like both gold and snails, but I think you would have to pay me $1000 to eat either one. Besides, that makes up a significant chunk of my mortgage, so I really can’t justify spending it on a bit of ice cream. I do like how the sundae is shaped like a middle finger pointed at all the middle and lower socioeconomic folks struggling through this economy, and a special fist shaped version is available for people like to mock Third World countries (ok, I made that last bit up, but you get what I mean).

Hmmm....

What I Wish I Had Blogged About

So I’ve been on a blogging hiatus, but I am not making a real attempt to get back to it, so the two of you who read this will have that to look forward to. There have been a number of things that I would have liked to comment on here on my online podium, but I know that I will never give them each the treatment they deserve. Never-the-less, Here are the top 5 things I wish I would have blogged on (and a summary of what I would have said). In no particular order:

1. Jatropha. Heard of it? Me either! At least not until recently. But it seems to be worth hearing about. Jatropha is a neat little plant (actually, there are several varieties) who’s nuts produce an oil that can be used as fuel. Three reasons why this is a big deal: 1. It burns clean. Unlike our terrorist-provided oil it doesn’t pollute as it is used. 2. It comes from Latin America and the Caribbean. They grow it in India too, I think. The double bonus here is that these shamefully destitute places may have found a way to make some money, while our frenemies in OPEC will be losing some. 3. Unlike ethanol, cultivating jatropha won’t drive up food prices because you can’t eat it, so there is no competition.

2. Chimps Should Live in Trees. More to the point, they shouldn’t live in houses. And they shouldn’t share your bed or drink wine with you because THEY GO NUTS AND PEOPLE GET HURT. As a general rule, I’m not a fan of animals in cages (and a house constitutes a cage for a chimp. For that matter, so does almost every exhibit at the zoo, including the Portland zoo and most especially the Boise zoo). Now, to be fair, I have had “caged” pets before. My tarantula, for instance. But he (or she, I never asked) lived in a 65 gallon aquarium. I’ve had pet rats, and their cage was two stories and almost as big as my bed. The point is, if you cage any creature, or treat it as anything other than the creature it is (a chimp is not a human, for instance), bad things happen.

3. Ted Haggard is an Insurance Salesman. This honestly makes me very sad. I’ve never thought of myself as having a whole lot in common with Haggard (even less now), but as president of the NEA he was one of the family, you know? Granted, he was dishonest and immoral and absolutely should have been removed from his position as president and as pastor of New Life Church, but even then he should have been able to turn to the church for help. Instead, they literally kick him out of Colorado (they later changed their minds on that one). Look, guys, Jesus was not very image-conscious, so get over yourself and help the guy out. And Ted, don’t ever think about preaching again.

4. Christian Bale is a Jerk! You have probably heard by now about his little tirade on the set of the new Terminator movie (unrelated note: Really? Another one?). He threw a temper tantrum like a little girl and humiliated an employee on the set. Apparently he believes he really is as special as our celebrity-worshipping society has told him he is. Assistant Director and Associate Producer Bruce Franklin is defending him though, saying he was interrupted during a very emotional scene (in a Terminator movie?). Sounds like Bruce is hoping Christian will want to work with him in later movies. Not likely Bruce. The whole thing kind of reminds me of Alec Baldwin’s verbal abuse of his daughter in which he called her a pig (amongst other things) in a phone message. Celebrities really are different from us.

5. Obama Opposes Reinstituting the Fairness Doctrine. Good on you, Mr. President. You are now entitled to a tirade because you are special. The Fairness Doctrine was adopted in 1949 and held that broadcasters were obligated to provide opposing points of views on controversial issues of national importance. It was halted under the Reagan administration. What it comes down to is that at the very least it gives whiners a chance to whine and at its worst it provides a legal way to force others to support your point of view. Maybe I’ll send Obama a thank you note and few suggestions for some other ways to really wow the public is his first 100 days. Oh hell, I’ll just run for president in 2016.

One last thing….we’ve bailed out big business (i.e. gave them those bonuses they SO deserved), we’ve bailed out the car makers, we’ve bailed out those banks who can’t be bothered by people such as myself, and now we’re bailing out homeowners who shouldn’t have bought the house in the first place because you couldn’t afford it. Where’s my bail out?

A Blog of No Consequence

It's been over a month since I posted! I have nothing grand to say, it just made me sad to think that I was falling farther and farther down the blog roll lists of my friends. A preview for the future: I will blog about selling my house (it's keeping me busy!) and about how my employer, Cascadia Behavioral Healthcare, is incompetent in almost every way. I need to do part two of the Hannukkah blog and sometime I will write something theological too.

I have been busy selling a house, trying to get people medical coverage, getting yelled at by demented clients (I don't mean demented as an insult, but as a diagnosis) and trying, though not succeeding, in putting together an older kids dealy for church. Poor me.