Blizzard of '06 Diary, Or Adventures in the Obsurd Day 1

This post is turning out to be a little long so I am breaking it down into parts. This first part is from the first day. This whole thing should really be much funnier but it isn't, my apologies.

Day 1
Wed 12:30am

i am sitting here in the nicest hotel i have ever been in. really. this place is swag.

at right: room service, on the airline...

at left: a huge Christmas tree and the glass elevators i road up and down on.



i am here instead of on a plane on my way home because United over booked a couple of flights into KC and being Christmas everyone showed up for their flight(1). so they started asking people if they would give up their seats in exchange for a round trip ticket and a first class ticket in the morning. how often do you get to do something nice for someone else and instead of it sucking for you, you end up getting rewarded for the act?(2)

at left: round trip ticket to any where in the 48 states, first class ticket for the morning, $6 voucher for food, and a note pad i took from the hotel(3). of course, as soon as United realized they could claim the delays were do to weather their charity dried up.

i am not alone. in the hotel are all the other people who got bumped and two other people, Mark and Tenai (pronounced like you are saying "today" with a hair lip - two-nay). Mark is a conservationist from Oceania who observes the shore birds around Pismo. He has family in KC. Tenai is a student at BYU and is headed home to Independence Missouri. I met them while standing on the curb waiting for the shuttle to the hotel. We were all talking about how dumb it is for United to over book at Christmas and realized that we had all three given up our seats. A small Pakistani man was saying something about a snow storm that was going to hit in the morning and I warned my fellow travelers that "No good deed goes unpunished." "You see," i continued, "the Universe conspires against me. Because I gave up my seat it is pretty much guaranteed that that flight in the morning will not take off. And because you are on the same flight you are hosed as well(4)." everyone chuckled at this. Mark and Tenai and I form an alliance, or a fellowship if you will. these two were really cool. i joked with tenai that her hair was like Dora the Explorer's.

Wed 8:30 am

it is snowing. it is snowing really really hard. it has been snowing since 4:30 this morning when i got up to catch the shuttle back to the airport.(5) it is snowing so hard that out of the window i can barely see the plane at the gate. the rest is all white. there are already 3 foot drifts forming in front of the jetways and around doors. ground crews are slogging around trying to free trucks and luggage carriers from the snow. i have time to take note of all of this because my flight has been delayed for half an hour due to "snow." I look over at Mark and Tenai, smile, and say "I told you so." I am glorying in my pessimism.

Wed 8:45 am

another passenger just announced that they have moved our departure gate from B60 to B52. there has been no such announcement over the PA but that doesn't prevent 90% of the crowd from standing up and sprinting to gate B52. Lemmings. I despise group think and I openly mock these people. The rest of us calmly approach the gate agent and ask about all of this. "Excuse me, we were just told that the gate for the KC flight has been changed. Is that true? We haven't heard any announcements." to which the reply came, "We have not made any announcement to that effect(6)." We repent of our individualism and race to catch the other lemmings.

Wed 9:00 am

it is announced over the PA that our flight has been canceled along with nearly every other flight. Pandemonium ensues. we are encouraged to A) see the gate agent, B) see the customer service agent, C) go to the red courtesy phones to rebook our flights. what they did not tell us was that this storm was predicted to be one of the top ten biggest blizzards Denver has ever seen. that they were already planning on shutting down the airport for the day if not longer. that the city was already struggling to clear roads and flight crews are already stranded in their hotels and homes - unable to get to the airport. all at once little sheets of paper appear. at the top, just below the letter head, is a time stamp: "8:30 am." there is a little blurb about the airport possibly shutting down until 8 pm that evening. the rest is a list of phone numbers for hotels and rental car places. though they haven't said as much, they are telling us that we are in for a long wait. this is how the airport communicates with us from here on out. overly obvious PA announcements, cryptic suggestions from staff, and out dated information on little sheets.

our alliance is strong. our fellowship kicks butt. we are the three smartest people here if only because we are working as a team. Mark is on the phone trying to reserve a rental car for noon. Tenai is waiting in line to use one of the red phones. i am in line at the customer service desk. the next available flight to KC is Saturday at 10:30pm. we confirm the flight as a back up plan and get stand by tickets for a couple of flights still scheduled to leave tonight (Wednesday). we have also reserved a car for noon. by the time we have done all of this it is already 11:00 am. Tenai is on the phone with her mom. she is trying to reassure her that these two men she is planning on driving with for the next 12 hours or more are not serial killers. we leave the concourse and slug through the snow to catch the shuttle to the rental place.

Wed 11:45 am

i have just been on one of the scarriest bus rides of my life. it is a five minute drive from the airport to the rental place. it takes us over half an hour through 3 foot drifts and in a total white out. while in line we call the DOT hot line for road conditions. nearly every road in Denver is about to close, and all the highways out of the city and into Kansas are already closed - I 70, I 80, 76, I 25 North and South, and I 40 - they are all closed. the Highway Patrol has set up road blocks and the gates on the Kansas side of I 70 are closed(7).

neither the rental places nor the airlines are telling people this. the rental places are still renting cars, and the airlines are still handing out lists of rental agencies. we decide to change our reservation for tomorrow at noon in the hope that the blizzard will let up by then. if we don't get on a flight tonight we can drive out tomorrow and still get home before our flight on Saturday night. we are smarter than every one else around us. every one else is still trying to drive out. most of them will not make it out of the city. those who do will be stranded on the highways. i will later see images on the news of hundreds of cars stuck in drifts along the roads. even as i am watching this on the news someone from the airline hands me a sheet with phone numbers for the rental agencies.

Wed 12:00 pm

every hotel in Denver is booked. every car is rented or reserved. even Amtrak is completely booked. if you were lucky enough to get a hotel room booked but haven't left the airport you aren't going to be sleeping in that hotel room. all roads around the airport are closed. the shuttles to and from the hotels and rental agencies have stopped running. this doesn't stop the airlines from giving out hotel and rental car information. they have made no announcement about the closures. i learn this from watching the news.

we are back in the Main Terminal. there are people everywhere. we know that we will likely be spending the night here and so we have work to do. we also want to try and get an earlier flight than Saturday. Tenai and I are waiting to use the red courtesy phones to call United and Mark is in line at the main ticket desk. the phones are useless but when we get to the ticket agent (Sheila) we tell our little tail about giving up our seats-and-we-should-get-special-treatment-blah-blah-blah(8). Sheila is awesome and gets us a ticket for tomorrow night (Thursday). i now am holding a ticket for tonight, a couple of stand by tickets, and a ticket for tomorrow night. confident that we have done all we can to get out we set to work finding a place to sleep (if we don't get out tonight), food and water for the next few days, and a way to charge our cell phones.

it used to be that when i flew i would carry with me anything that i might need if my checked bags got lost or if i got stranded at the airport. my bags never got lost, and i never got stranded and this always seemed a little silly to friends. in my carry on i would take a pillow, all my toiletries, a couple of books, fresh socks, and fresh shirt, water, food, and i am sure that if i had a cell phone back then i would have brought the charger. but now because going through security check points is only a little less of an intrusive hassle than a colorectal exam i only carry on my camera and a book. i am convinced that the reason we haven't seen another hijacking is because of the inconvenience.

there were over 4000 people stranded in the airport and most of them are here in the main terminal. i can only describe the situation as chaotic. when they finally announce that the airport will remain closed until tomorrow morning people begin to loose it. next to me, sitting in a little ball is a grown man with his face in his hands. he is wailing, WAILING. i kneel down beside him and try to reasure him. he was scheduled to fly into Chicago and then Amsterdam. now he has been told that he won't leave the airport until Monday or Tuesday. he will arrive in Amsterdam just in time to miss his return flight. he doesn't have much money for food and is flying alone. there is another man, an elderly man, trying to explain to one of the airport people that his oxygen tank is low. he is trying to figure out how to get more oxygen. the airport guy can't help him. over in a corner is a little kid, maybe 9 or 10. he has a tag around his neck that identifies him as an unaccompanied minor. there were a bunch of kids like this and they just ran around the airport by themselves.

i leave the man and head towards a camera crew. i want to get on TV. they are there to do the obligatory "I will be home for Christmas if only in my dreams"-feel-good-peace-about-stranded-but-optomistic-travelors-ubiquitous-human-interest-story(9). i didn't get on TV but i did make it into the Rocky Mountain News" (10).

we got some food and bought some chargers. we then decided that if we were going to sleep in the airport we would be more comfortable back in Concourse B. that meant we had to go back through security. the only people who could get through the check points were those who had a boarding pass with that days date on it. all that waiting in multiple lines paid off. a lot of other people weren't so lucky and had to sleep in the colder and crowded Main Terminal. as it turns out you had a better chance of getting a ticket out if you were in one of the Concourses. if you made it to a hotel, or stayed in the Main Terminal you were just about screwed.

Wed 3:00 pm-ish

chaos reigns. they have closed Concourse C. the Main Terminal is looking more and more like a refugee camp. a rumor has spread that the airport may be closed until Friday. people are getting desperate. there is a rumor that the people in Concourse A have been isolated from all sources of information and that there are food shortages. we are hearing stories about canabolism. we, in Concourse B dismiss these rumors as foolishness. we have lots of restaurants open and more importantly, the bar is open.

Wed 9:00 pm-ish

i am sitting in Lefty's. i have decided that if i am going to be stuck in the airport i need a little help from my Irish couzin Jameson. we see on the news that the Governer has declared a state of emergency and the National Guard has supplied everyone with cots and blankets. we also learn that the Red Cross has trucked in food. the news makes it sound like we are all being well fed, and kept warm. of course the reality is that there were only about 90 cots, and about as many blankets. and those blankets and cots and the Red Cross supplies are only being distributed in the Main Terminal. by the time we learn of any of this the cots and blankets are gone. but we have more pressing issues to deal with. earlier we had ventured out and killed a bufallo. we also scored some blankets and pillows from a couple of planes. now the Concourse A people are sending out raiding parties into our Concourse. we are fending them off for now, but not without casualties. in the lattest skirmish as we drove off the Concourse A raiders they grabbed a fat guy and drug him away. we also lost some bottles of booze and a case of maple syrip.

1. Um... Duh.
2. Never.
3. What can I say? I am a sucker for notepads. I also scored some nice soap.
4. Man I hate being right all the time.
5. Those 4 hours were the longest I would sleep for the next 3 days.
6. This will be the last time United will tell us anything that is remotely accurate.
7. Yes, there actually gates that they close. I have seen them.
8. I may, I say I MAY have inadvertently jabbed my eye with my thumb and shed a tear or two.
9. And I am thinking, "where the frick is Anderson Cooper?"
10. They won a Pulitzer you know.



Denver, Denver International Airport, DIA, Blizzard 06, Airport Closure, United Airlines

We Apologise for the Interuption. We Experiencing Difficulty Due to Acts of God.

i dono, i think the universe conspires against me. it isn't enough that the weather totally hosed me on my trip home for christmas. the electricity has been on and off (mostly off) today and the lights are flickering as i type this. PG&E is saying it is because of "the wind."

all that is to say that i have a post coming on my Denver International Airport 3 day Lock-in. but it ain't going up tonight as i had hoped because i just got in last night and the electricity has been out all day.

i will try and get the post up some time this week.

no good deed goes unpunished

i will post more about this latter but here is the deal...

i was seconds from boarding my plane out of denver when i volunteered to let someone else have my seat and i would fly out in the morning. i got a round trip ticket and a hotel stay that night that was rather swank.

i arrive this morning only to be told that the entire airport is shut down cause of a blizzard and my next flight out will be saturday. to top it all off all the hotels are booked and there are no rental cars and if there were the roads are all closed anyway.

hooray!

so yeah, no good deed goes unpunished.

that is the cade factor.

i am keeping a diary which i will post.

i have to go now, some of us are going on a game hunt to find food. we have broken into two parties, one party in concorse c the other in a. the a people have already resorted to canabalism.

pray for me.

i am going to try and sweet talk a ticket agent into putting me on the front of the list for standby tickets when the blizzard ends.

if you don't believe me about any of this, just watch the news.

Some People Never Learn!

so saturday night was the Gordon girls christmas party with the now infamous white elephant exchange...

so... last night i brought this

it was legendary, truly legendary. the problem with being a living legend is that the legend is sometimes bigger than man. i mean, how do you top this?

well after much prayer and thought i brought this

yeah, i am awesome.

ha ha marshie!

Recent Photos

And The Lord Said, "Let there be email."

so apparently The Lord has internet now and he is sending out emails to all of HIS faithful children. he emailed my my roommate rob who then forwarded it to me with his reply. it had me rolling on the floor. i thought i woud share the email and his commentary with you all.

first the body of the email:

Fwd: Dear Children,

Dear Children,
>
> It has come to my attention that many of you are
> upset that folks are taking my name out of the
> season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't
> actually born during this time of the year and that
> it was some of your predecessors who decided to
> celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of
> pagan festival. Although, I do appreciate being
> remembered anytime.
>
> How I personally feel about this celebration can
> probably be most easily understood by those of you
> who have been blessed with children of your own. I
> don't care what you call the day. If you want to
> celebrate My birth just, GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE
> ANOTHER.
>
> Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers
> you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a
> scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of
> couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small
> Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My
> followers did that there wouldn't be any need for
> such a scene on the town square because there would
> be many of them all around town.
>
> Stop worrying about the fact that people are
> calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a
> Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can
> remember me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a
> grape vine if you wish. I actually spoke of that
> one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation
> to you and what each of our tasks was. If you have
> forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.
>
> If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of
> My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from
> it:
>
> 1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to
> the way My birthday is being celebrated, write
> letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home.
> They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of
> year. I know, they tell Me all the time.*
>
> 2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have
> to know them personally. They just need to know that
> someone cares about them.
>
> 3. Instead of writing George complaining about the
> wording on the cards his staff sent out this year,
> why don't you write and tell him that you'll be
> praying for him and his family this year. Then
> follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.
>
> 4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts
> you can't afford and they don't need, spend time
> with them. Tell them the Story of My birth, and why
> I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your
> arms and remind them that I love them.
>
> 5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and
> forgive him or her.
>
> 6. Did you know that someone in your town will
> attempt to take their own life this season because
> they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't
> know whom that person is, try giving everyone you
> meet a warm smile it could make the difference.
>
> 7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer
> in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the
> people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a
> kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you
> a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from
> wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on
> Sunday.
> If the store didn't make so much money on that day
> they'd close and let their employees spend the day
> at home with their families.
>
> 8. If you really want to make a difference, support
> a missionary, especially one who takes My love and
> Good News to those who have never heard My name.
>
> 9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and
> whole families in your town who not only will have
> no "Christmas" tree, but also neither will they have
> any presents to give or receive. If you don't know
> them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to
> the Salvation Army or some other charity, which
> believes in Me, and they will make the delivery for
> you.**
>
> 10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about
> your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a
> Christian. Don't do things in secret that you
> wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your
> actions that you are one of mine.
>
> Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself.
> Just love Me and do what I have told you to do.
> I'll take care of all the rest.*** Check out the list
> above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you,
> but the ball is now in your court. And do have a
> most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love
> and remember me"
>
> I LOVE YOU,
> JESUS


and now robs comments:

Every good commentary seems to require 3 [not 4, not
2] but 3 special points that need pointing out, so
here it goes.

1. Stop with the F@#KING capital letters. the S in
"story" doesn't need to be capitalized...It's not
proper writing[as the case may be with my spelling].
Do we want people to think that Jesus was an
illiterate dumb ass from the south?**** Also, if Jesus
were to write a letter, he would probably abide by one
of his own rules and not "boast". By putting capital
letters everywhere he says 'My' or 'Me', it makes him
look like a pretentious asshole.

2. The first gift suggestion says that we should stop
writing protest letters....STOP THERE!! One of the
reasons Jesus got jacked by the religious leaders was
that he was a protester. He went against the grain
publicly. Would he not want us to do this too?
Second, in a famous speech he gave he said 'the peace
makers will be called the sons of God' or something to
that affect. So, by not protesting [something Jesus
did] violence [something he preaches against], are we
really doing what he wants us to? Last, on that
topic, I must move to the foundation of our country.
It was based on protesters...am I the only person who
isn't retarded here!?!?!*****

3. Option #10...Behave like a Christian? That's
right, don't do anything you need to hide because it
makes you look like a bad christian. We wouldn't want
anyone to think that sinners might be part of the
church... this means queers, lesbos, drug addicts,
children, pastors...oh wait. Blew that one. Well,
just try to pretend you're perfect and the lord will
bless you with riches and beautiful children who wont
get knocked up before they're 15.



notes:
*i really liked how the author managed to wrap this little sermonette in the flag.
**jesus thinks that charities that don't "believe in HIM" are total crap.
***"i will make sure that after the rapture they are really really uncomfortable."
****ok, i laughed so hard when i read this i nearly wet myself.
*****a question we have both asked aloud while watching CNN

obscurest night involv'd the sky, william cowper: 1731-1800

No voice divine the storm allay'd,
No light propitious shone;
When, snatch'd from all effectual aid,
We perish'd, each alone:
But I beneath a rougher sea,
And whelm'd in deeper gulfs than he.
- William Cowper

friends, on occasion, have referred my constant struggling with inner things, things divine, things remote and eminent to the example of Jacob. and i too have looked to him as a type - a reference point if you will - with wich to regain my barrings when i have found myself lost within my own inner workings. but even jacob could not say that "no voice divine the storm allay'd, no light propitious shone." no, he heard the voice and saw the light and ran from it until the theophany held his face to the dirt. but i do wonder... did there ever come a time when he (jacob) began to question whether his sparing partner there on the banks of the jordon was simply another man like he? or worse, a figment of his delusions?

there is, of course, much to be made about the annual funk i fall into around thanksgiving and that starts to break up around february. but i think also, that i suffer from that waisting disease that eventually all idealists succumb to - namely cynicism. in me it takes the form of a never satisfied soul eating reactionary nihilism. it begins with little deconstructions here and there. oh it seems quite innocent at first but the end result is the same in all cases. you end up believing in nothing.

all my councilors - well intentioned all of them - wise a few of them - would tell me i am too rational, too cynical, too idealistic. others would try to flip the lid on my head and search for a deeper psychosis. maybe i am angry. maybe i wasn't hugged enough. blame daddy, or mommy, or Mtv. they get in my head long enough to make things worse - these would be doctor phils - and won't vacate until i have satisfied their need to cure me. and this is just barely tolerable. when they are gate keepers it is disastrous.

so i am left to my own devices. a cryptic poem or two will aid in catharsis and keep the blind in the dark. a little healthy escapism to cool my overwraught mind. some time alone to think. a geographic (road trip or plane ride) to get a different view. O'conner, Cowper, Dickinson, Cash and other kin for companionship and solidarity. and other little magic tricks and encantations i have picked up along the way to keep my head above the "rougher sea."





william cowper, The Castaway, , , ,

Home Made Christmas Tree: or What to do with your beer bottles

in reverse order...

The War On Christmas... the rant stylings of Cade

Cade over at the Complaining Annex has fired, what to my knowledge might be the first shot in this years war on Christmas.

he has a nice rant about Ameri-mas and I couldn't agree with him more.


Christmas, War on Christmas

Out of Ur steps up to the plate to carry the torch - THAT SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN LIT

Oh thank goodness! I was worried that Out of Ur wouldn't post YET ANOTHER article some how related to the Ted Haggard scandal.

I mean, gosh, I just can't get enough "lessons learned from" and "teachable moment" and "cautionary story" articles, posts, and commentaries. And I was concerned that maybe the story had run its course.

Thanks for stepping up and filling in the void.

I mean, dang, didn't the guy do the obligatory repentance gauntlet run:
1. sin
2. get caught
3. deny
4. confess
5. be/feign contrition
6. claim mental fatigue/psychiatric issues/blame drugs, alcohol, the devil, mom and dad
7. go to offended party(s)/race/gender/nation and seek "reconciliation"
8. go on Larry King/Oprah
9. get lucrative book deal, request large sums of money to speak, and get a talk show

I guess since he hasn't done exactly all of these yet I guess we will have to endure more of the above articles. I don't know what else we could ask of the guy though. I mean, Dobson said the guy has a 3 person "restoration" panel set up to work towards restoring the man. Isn't that enough?

Seriously. The Christian media has been as bad about this as CNN's Nancy Grace is when a little white girl disappears in a bad (read minority) neighborhood.

Friggin enough already.


Out of Ur, Ted Haggard, Scandal, CNN, Nancy Grace

Look at All the Lonely People: The Trinity, Community, and the ever Evolving God

CT has an article/editorial on an American Sociological Review study which found that:

As of 2004, the average American had just two close friends, compared with three in 1985. Those reporting no confidants at all jumped from 10 percent to 25 percent. Even the share of Americans reporting a healthy circle of four or five friends had plunged from 33 percent to just over 15 percent.

if you are wondering why that matters or what that means or why you should care you should read the article and the links. at any rate, apparently we Americans are finding that having a bunch of stuff isn't cutting it.

the CT article notes that

Certainly, the pressure to isolate ourselves is longstanding in our increasingly fragmented society based on the radical autonomy of the individual. Perhaps the same thing that is sabotaging marriage is undermining friendship: our increasing unwillingness to commit to relationships that require sacrifice, mutual accountability, and a generous share of humility. That refusal is often not so much willful as fearful... ...One wonders what it would take for the church, the new community, the friends of Jesus (John 15), to hold equal fascination for our lonely culture. To draw our culture to Christ, evangelical churches spend enormous amounts of money on slick marketing materials, enormous amounts of creative energy crafting "authentic" worship, and enormous amounts of intellectual capital on post modernizing the faith. We're not convinced these strategies get to the heart of our cultural malaise.

Perhaps another "strategy" is in order. What if church leaders mounted a campaign to encourage each of their members to become friends, good friends, with one unchurched person this year?

which got me to thinking about how obvious and simple/obvious all this is. after all we are the folks who "have fellowship with the Godhead" 1 John 1:3 - my paraphrase.

i know of other such "campaigns" with a similar strategy but with an overt, and in my opinion shallow and a kind of mormo-jehowit creepiness, purpose of "winning the right to be heard" which is code for prosylitizing. in college this ethos was popular and we were instructed in the "how to's" of this AmWay approach to prosylitizing by our college ministry leaders. i never practiced it for two reasons; 1) i felt the "pressure to isolate [myself] in our increasingly fragmented society" and was raised to regard "the radical autonomy of the individual" as the highest of vertues. and i was and am "unwilling to commit to relationships that require sacrifice, mutual accountability, and a generous share of humility." AND 2) it felt like a real "shit heel" way to go about spreading the faith. i mean, really, how insincere can we be? make friends with people so we can share the Gospel? how bout we make friends with people cause they are lonely?

but that is not what we are talking about here, at least that is not what I am talking about here. rather, let's modify that last suggestion about encouraging churched folk to become friends with one unchurched folk this year and encourage all folks (churched and unchurched alike) to reach out and make good, intimate friends because... well i guess because that is who we are 'sposed to be any way. you know, cause we are trinitarians and any trinitarian theology worth its salt must include a theology of the communion within the Godhead and its corosponding praxis of creating community on the horizontal plain.

speaking of friends (i am apperantly stuck in 1985 with my whopping 3 "confidants"*) i was up in Boston with the The Sinners and Saints and 2 out of my 3 Dr J and Cade a while back and James and I were talking about how our musical tastes have evolved and how our friendship has been a catalyst for that evolution. for example, i used to hate all death metal-scream-into-the-mic-duga-dunk-ba-duga-dunk-angry-type-music*** like say Killswitch Engage and there was a time when if you played country music with in ear shot of James he would wretch and bitch until you turned it off. but as with all relationships ours has radically influenced each of us. i have, in the last decade, developed a taste for the 'ole scream-into-the-mic melodies and James has gained an appreciation for certain kinds of country.**

musical tastes aside, the point being that relationships that last longer than a Hollywood mariage evolve as the folks in the relationship change. it was while meditating on that thought that i began to think about the ways in which my relation ship with God has evolved. not only so, but i have evolved as a person. and so has God. God, in my experience with him has evolved. God used to be a big Something or Other in the sky who I would toss up my obligatory pagen prayers to. Then he became HIM and a bit of a task master. Then the Good Shepherd. Then a Father, Brother, Guide, etc. Then at some point He became a bit more than ONLY a HE and took on some rather SHE like characteristics. and so on and so on.

i suspect that with most christians God evolves. that is how relationships and communities work, all those in the fellowship change. however, and this may be just my Edwardian leanings, with the Godhead it is we who change and as we do our understanding of the nature of God changes. it is, i think, our experience of God that changes and with it our understanding of God evolves.

*oh don't go feeling all hurt, now that i think of it i probably have more like 4 or 5- you know who you are.
**of course by country i am refering to real country music - Cash, Nelson, Neko Case, David Allan Coe, Steve Earle, etal. not that other crappy 80's pop with a twange they listen to in the central valley, or that posers line dance to.
***for real, that is what it sounds like to me.



Christianity Today, friendship, loneliness, evangelism, God, Evolution, Evolve, relationships

Some Fun Pics From My Recent Tandem Bday Party

my friend Holly's Birthday is 3 days before mine. we have got a little tradition now of having "tandem" birthday parties. here are some pics from the party...









jen cope... what ARE you doing?

shameless self promotion

hey folks i submitted a couple of photos to JPG mag for publication (over on the left) so click on the pics and vote for each of the photos and maybe i will get published. you will need to come back here to re-click on the second photo to vote for it.

vote early and vote often.

thanks.

Ever Wonder What Love Looks Like?

engagement rings are stupid, but if you must...

did you know that it is customary for a man to spend 3, yes, THREE months pay on an engagement ring? yeah, i think that is dumb to.

i know this will likely garner some grief, but there is no way in hell i am spending that much money on something that i can't eat, sleep on/in, live in, or drive let alone a chunk of coal.

as if that alone, and really THAT IS DUMB, there is the whole ethical quandary of showing ones love for another through materialism - a materialism in this case that is the direct result of human injustice, the destruction of the environment - when you look at a diamond think about how much blood has been shed for that little rock. (read here and here)

i would like to think that the woman i propose to would also think that this is all really really really dumb as well as unethical and not expect a ring. i also used to like to think that when i grew up i would be six foot tall, play MLB, and have a full head of hair long into old age. so falling short of that i have kept an eye out for one of two things: at flea markets and antique fairs i look for engagement ring alternatives. and at flea markets, antique fairs, bars, church, and everywhere else i look for women whose families pass down engagement rings as heirlooms.

i have to admit that i haven't had much luck on any of those fronts. but the other day at church as i was drifting off to sleep i happened to glance down at a bulletin insert about these folks: NightLight. they are a ministry to prostitutes in third world nations.

essentially what they do is help women get out of the sex trade by giving them jobs making jewelry, giving them job and life skills training, and counseling.

from their website:

NightLight: a ministry in urban Bangkok, which reaches out to women and children working in the bar areas of Nana/Sukhumvit. Located in a neighborhood with a growing sex trade, Nightlight’s vision is to share the Light of the world in both word and deed to those who live in darkness.

The Response and Goals:

To Combat the sexual exploitation of Women and Children (Thai and Foreign) in the Nana/Sukhumvit area.

Through life-on-life ministry, NightLight’s goal is to meet the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of women in prostitution, their children, and those children brought illegally in Thailand to financially support their families by selling items in the bars and often through sexual exploitation. These goals will be met through building relationships with women and children who work in the sex trade industry along the Nana/Sukhumvit area and by providing a center that offers emergency aid, educational and employment opportunity, emergency child-care, language tutoring, literacy training, and biblical teaching and healing for their community.

1. Economic/Educational Opportunities: Providing alternatives through job training and education.

2. Life skills training: To provide opportunities to train women and children on the risks of working in the sex trade and how to access the help they may need.

3. Public Awareness and Involvement: To educate the public, Thai and foreign (religious and secular), of the physical, psychological, legal and economic consequences of prostitution and trafficking and to encourage their involvement in advocacy and follow-up care of the women and children.
4. Relational Evangelism: To introduce women and children to the love and mercy of Jesus Christ, to disciple them into a strong faith as people who will then impact their communities.

Assistance, Intervention and Rehabilitation

1. Outreach: Bar visits to build relationships of trust, offer alternatives, and be available for necessary intervention.

2. Vocational/Educational Opportunities: Providing employment, job training and educational alternatives.

3. Shelter and Assistance: To provide a safe place for emergency assistance, health care, counseling, child-care and basic necessities.

4. Intervention of Trafficking: To intervene when children are solicited for prostitution and to work with the guardians to protect these children.

5. Staff Training and Development: To provide training for a multi-lingual staff in the areas of administration, research, grant proposal writing, counseling, and trafficking issues and to set up global networks to assist in repatriation.

6. Evangelism: To introduce the women and children to Jesus Christ and to connect them with church families where they can receive discipleship and fellowship.

so now at the time of the year when you are considering where to give a little extra for a tax write off, consider these folks. or if you are about to propose to your woman... think twice dude, but if you must, maybe you should by from these folks and your conscience will be lighter - cause if you are getting married god knows your wallet will be.


Nightlight, Diamond Trade, Blood Diamond, Engagement Rings

Playing Mrs Pacman at Vagabond Records

i really miss both of these guys and i wish i were there.

so you think your work is tough...

for two weeks now we have been excavating under a house. that is our bread and butter. we go in and lift the house up, replace (or in some cases build new) foundations, septic, etc.

we took out ten 10 yard dumpsters. a yard, cubic that is, is 27 cubic feet. you take the height x depth x width and that is the cubic dimensions. ten 10 yard dumpsters is 100 cubic yards.

any way, we have been using a mini excavator and a mini front loader so we can get in around the temporary supports... WAIT, THIS WILL GET COOL IN A FEW WORDS...

these old houses sometimes have 2 or more old septic tanks (usually a redwood box dug in the ground) that have been abandoned. you never really know where these boxes are you just have to dig and be careful not to fall into one.

here is the cool part:

we were digging our last trench and all of a sudden...



the front loader, with matt in it falls through the lid of an old box. the bos was six feet deep and 5 foot wide. were it any wider the tractor would have fallen all the way in. here in this pic (sorry, camera phone) the loader is partly lifted out.






this is me standing in the hole.







told you it was cool.

my current favorite photo

explaining how he stores the fuel
Originally uploaded by Mike Murrow.

i like this photo cause:

1. james is my buddy and i love him

2. he is so in his element

3. his hat is cute

4. he won't like this but he looks a little stoned (he has never done drugs in his life btw)

5. i wish i could grow some nice grey wiskers

6. the rubber glove is a nice touch

short and to the point.

i will not vote today. why?

cause, as i said somewhere else, the idea that i should go out there and take my frustration to the polls and "throw the bums out" is silly. what? throw them out by voting in another set of jokers in their place? that is the very definition of insanity. it is like something out of a doug adams book.

i would vote if there were an option to not vote for anyone and then if enough people did that the seat would just go unfilled. now that would be amazing. imagine what would happen. tuesday would come and go and on wednesday neither the dems nor reps would be in office - in fact no one would be. THAT is how to send a message.

short of armed revolt i don't know what options we have left.

there but for the grace of god

i was eating breakfast the other day (mmm toaster strudels) and when we all get up (we get up early) we watch CNN. when the news broke about Ted Haggerty one of my roommates (a recovering evangelical) let out a big laugh.

why?

because there are all these big named famous christian leaders who are in bed with one or the other political machines and they parade around all proud and self righteous condemning gays, or condemning conservatives, or condemning Muslims, or condemning people who condemn muslims and when one of them falls the irony is big, too big not to make a cynic chuckle.

but i didn't laugh. i didn't even chuckle.

why?

because as soon as i start to chuckle and gloat over the failings of some blow hard i begin to remember.

i begin to remember what i did last week, what i said yesterday, what i thought a minute ago and the old saying, "there but for the grace of God" comes to mind.

i begin to think about what it would be like to be in their shoes. what if all my dirty shit was out there in the air for everyone to gawk and point and ridicule? and admittedly there is, somewhere in my gut, this idea that if i mock too much the worm will turn and god will air my dirty laundry. not that i am a public figure by any standard, but i don't know that even in the very very very tiny world i live in having my shit hung out for show would be any more bearable.

so i don't take joy, though a dark part of me wants to, in the fall of any of these blow hards who presume to speak for me and other Christians.

and i think that is about all i will say about the whole scandal.

i will just add this last bit. to all of you (other famous "spiritual" leaders - dobson, witherington, etal)

i am more than a little grossed out by your attempts to turn this whole thing into a "lesson" for the rest of us.*





ted haggerty, grace, scandal


*ok, so i guess i am more comfortable ranting about that even though i am casting a bit of judgment in that direction. but come on. i mean, frick, we all get it ok. he was successful and famous and power corrupts blah blah blah enough with the david/bathsheba analogies and sermonettes on leadership.

tragicomic innocence

i really hate myspace. i only have a myspace because that is pretty much the only way any of my old students will communicate with me.

that being said someone posted one of those "memes" in my bulletin. it goes like this:

Smoked pot -- $10
Did acid -- $5
Ever had sex at church -- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you -- $40
Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Ever drive drunk -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Peed in the pool -- $0.50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25

Tally it up and Title it..."My Fine Is..."

and folks, i edited out the "bad stuff."

i won't tell you what my total fine was.

one of my students commented to the effect that: "what a tragic joke innocence has become."

i couldn't agree more. so here is the question:

do you agree that innocence has become a tragic joke? if so why?
what are the causes? what should be done, if anything, about it?

where am i?

some folks have asked when i will post again. sorry about the hiatis. i have just been real busy. i got back from boston and went right back out to go climb with an old buddy.

any way i am working on some things. one is a post about these folks:





in the mean time here is a pretty picture to look at:
(taken while in boson)

why no one wants to be my friend

our buddy kyle has diabetes and is always talking about how his sugar got low and any normal person (the rest of us) would have died but because he is "super human" he can handle it.

he is always being obnoxious about stuff and so we in turn look for ways to have fun at his expense.

we were sitting around the other day and caught that wilford brimley commercial. we were thinking how much fun it would be if we remixed that thing into a song.

we looked on youtube for the commercial and sure enough some one else already made fun of the commercial.

so we called kyle's voice mail and left this little gem:




then today we left this one:

Christianity 2.0

in my previous post i posted an email i got from my friend ryan in response to a question i posed to him about cussing. i wanted his take on it because i believe he is qualified to answer the question for two reasons - he is both a gifted linguist and a very devout christian.

in his email he used the metaphor of computing to describe his approach to the faith:

Now, I tend to have a kind of UNIX type philosophy to practicing Christianity. I like to know the code well and I, as a user, like to be able to know what can be done to change any part of the system. I like being a powerful user and I love computing as much as I like the tasks accomplished by computing. Many Christians prefer the Mac model where everything is sort of laid out for you. You don't have to really know anything about computer languages and you don't need to know about drivers, you just want a computer to help you to do what you need to do. This is more like the Catholic church. You join, and people tell you in pretty simple terms (if not simple theology) how to live your life in a spiritually healthy way. (I admit I stole this metaphor from an essay by Umberto Eco, and here's a link: LINK. For those Macintosh type users, I wouldn't advise cussing. Risky behaviour that might muck up the system. For those that know what they're doing, go ahead.

i found the metaphor very thought provoking.

so here is the question:

are you a UNIX/2.O/Wiki christian or a Mac christian, and why?

(for those of you unfamiliar with what UNIX, or Web 2.O, or a Wiki is click the links for more info.)

a further question might be do you find the idea of approaching christianity from a UNIX/2.O understanding disturbing or frightening, if so why?




UNIX, Mac, Christianity, Web 2.0, Fundamentalism, Postmodern Christianity, Doctrine

Pretty Words

a while back i got ripped a new one for using bad words. i emailed my friend ryan (you can find his and isabel's blog over there on the left "the klints" who is a linguistic type person to get his oppinion on the matter. i have posted with his permission his reply.


Hey Mike!

yeah, I read that post where that guy slams you for cussing. My thoughts on the issue have flip-flopped a few times, but I'll give you so sociolinguistic facts first. There are many communities where cussing is completely normal and would mark the status quo. All cussing regardless of culture is based on social taboo. It remains cussing only because it continues to be taboo. Some words and expressions grow out of this phase —bitch (v) suck— while others have remained cuss words for far longer — fuck, cunt. Cross-culturally, cuss words generally fall into three major categories, sex, scat, and religion. The former two represent actions that are unmentionable in the broader population, and the later represents an something sacrosanct which should not be sullied. While cussing is accepted in many subgroups in society, it remains cussing precisely because it is rejected by the dominant society. People from outside these social subgroups often cuss as well, but they are usually trying to identify themselves with these subgroups.

So the easy answer is that cussing is totally socially relative and that no single word has innate spiritual power. No word is unworthy. In fact cussing usually represents an area where you can learn a lot about the grammar of the language and also learn a lot about the society of the speakers. However, if there weren't agreement throughout the general populace that this stuff was taboo, it wouldn't be cussing anymore. So I say that context is everything. In my context, I've never really had to deal with this issue. I wasn't raised cussing, and I don't continue to cuss. When I quote movies or people, I usually include expletives. It doesn't particularly bother me when people cuss, but I've noticed that it does bother me when my wife does, and I don't expect I'll let my kids cuss. If I were a chaplain in the military, or a street cop or in some other situation, I would probably cuss. This would be an "all things to all people sort of thing." Isabel sees nothing spiritually wrong with cussing at all. However, there are some issues like premarital sex and drunkenness which are not clearly labelled as sin in the Bible, but are pretty obviously discouraged. At least when extrapolated to the modern world. Is this because they are forbidden to us? Maybe not, but perhaps they aren't good for us. My righteousness is something I receive from Christ as a gift, not because of any work that I have done, but because He loved me. My moral integrity in return is a gift that I lift up because I love Him. I'm sure you heard the arguments "may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing unto you" (Psalm 19:14) and "whatever is true honest, just, pure, lovely, of good report, if there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think on these things." (Phil 4:8). So I've decided that for me, in my life I'll not cuss, but I do not condemn others for doing so. I know many Christians who do cuss and see no problem with it. I've never felt the need or the call to confront them on that. When my wife cusses, I worry for us socially. I worry that if our kids cuss they will be socially rejected by other kids parents. My mother is a preschool teacher, and this is exactly what happens to kids that cuss. The other parents won't let their kids play with them. That is a context that is pressing further and further on my mind.

Now, I know that God has called us to be a people set apart, and I'm pretty sure we won't set ourselves apart in any meaningful way by not cussing, but I also know that I would never dream of cussing in front of the people that I respect the most. I certainly wouldn't cuss in prayer.

Now, I tend to have a kind of UNIX type philosophy to practicing Christianity. I like to know the code well and I, as a user, like to be able to know what can be done to change any part of the system. I like being a powerful user and I love computing as much as I like the tasks accomplished by computing. Many Christians prefer the Mac model where everything is sort of laid out for you. You don't have to really know anything about computer languages and you don't need to know about drivers, you just want a computer to help you to do what you need to do. This is more like the Catholic church. You join, and people tell you in pretty simple terms (if not simple theology) how to live your life in a spiritually healthy way. (I admit I stole this metaphor from an essay by Umberto Eco, and here's a link: LINK which I can't presently find). For those Macintosh type users, I wouldn't advise cussing. Risky behaviour that might muck up the system. For those that know what they're doing, go ahead. I know that was kind of a ramble. I hope it made sense.

-Ryan

A Scary Story: Do Vampires Get a Dental Plan?

The story I am about to tell you is absolutely true in its entirety. I have not changed any of the details what so ever.

I used to work at a camp in California near Santa Cruz. If you are a movie buff, or in particular a fan of vampire movies you might remember Santa Cruz was one of the locations for the filming of the 1987 film Lost Boys, a movie about teenage vampires. If I had to, I would guess that they picked Santa Cruz because it has a reputation for being a little weird. It is a reputation well deserved as well as embraced by the locals. The reality is that most of the real "weirdos" aren't from Santa Cruz but live in outlying towns and in the Santa Cruz Mountains that the town backs up to as it faces the Monteray Bay.

When I was on staff at the camp we used to take turns recounting all the old ghost stories that have been passed down through the years. There were all the old camp standards, the ones everyone who has spent a week at summer camp has heard. And like, I assume, every other summer camp we put our own unique twist on those stories. Instead of witches or escaped mad men with hooks we had "Gulchies." The camp is located down a road called Lockhart Gulch that winds its way through coastal redwoods and thick manzinetas that year round block out most of the sun. The feeling you get when you drive down the "Gulch" is of passing through cave into another world. The people who live on the gulch are known as "Gulchies." There are any number of stories detailing the oddities and antisocial behavior of the Gulchies. There is the one about the time when some campers were taken into town for ice cream and one of them spotting a Gulchie made a rude comment about her purple hair. That night she had a night mare about the Gulchie being in her cabin and when she awoke she found purple hair stuffed into her mouth. My personal favorite is the one about Gulchies sneaking into camp and reaching through the windows of the cabin to snatch campers away never to be seen again. When you first hear these stories you try to tell yourself that these are all just myths and legends meant to entertain adults and scare campers into not wandering to far from the cabin. But then there is that old saying that all myths and legend have some basis in fact.

There are places in the gulch that have always given me the willies. On more than one occasion, while driving at night, I have seen figures dressed in black appear out of the fog along the road only to disappear again into the night. There is the lady in white who I have seen riding a big white horse up on the chaperel during a full moon. And of course there is the drumbs you will hear back in the woods on the solstice.

The week of July Fourth is one of the biggest weeks at the main camp. It is the week of the annual denominational Family Camp. Families from all over California pack up their SUV's or Minivans and head for the Santa Cruz Mountains to spend a week together near the beach. Most of them unaware of the stories about the Gulchies and their alleged misdeeds.

During this week the staff at the highschool camp where I worked go over to the main camp to help out with the Family Camp. This is a nice break in the middle of the summer and our duties at the Family camp are usually pretty light. We would take families surfing or climbing or run other activities. To work at the highschool camp you had to have a class B licence to drive the vans and so we were also assigned the task of shuttling folks from one part of the camp to another. Mostly this involved driving the elderly up and down the hill to and from events. It was a pretty cake job and the only real bummer was that you had to wear a shirt and tie.

I was on my way back to the highschool camp from a long day of shuttling elderly folks up and down the hill. It was dusk and through the Redwoods,Doug Firs, and Manzinitas there was only the faintest shafts of light reaching the road. The fog was already rolling in and there was a dampness in the air. A full moon was rising through the trees and passing in and out behind the clouds and the canopy of trees.

I was tired and looking forward to getting out of my shirt and tie and my mind had drifted off. But then I saw up ahead of me what looked like a ball of clothes laying in the ditch on the right side of the road. As I came to the ball of clothes I looked over and saw what I thought where a pair of withered old arms and a long shock of white hair.

I slammed on the brakes locking up the tires and leaving a pair of long screech marks on the road. The air filled with the smell of burned rubber and grey smoke. I put the van in reverse and backed up to where I had seen the ball of clothes. Quickly, I jumped out and ran over to the ditch. But to my shock there was nothing there but a little place where the weeds were matted down. I rubbed my eyes and decided that I must really be tired and was seeing things.

I walked back around to the driver's side of the van and opened the door. As I did I heard a voice that sent shivers up my spine. It was high pitched like wind in a chime and creaky like an old door.

"You looking for me dear?"

Turning around I was spooked at what I saw,

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Startled I let out a yelp, but this was internal, in my head that is. What I actually said was, "Ya-yeah. I - uh - um."

Standing before me was the oldest person I have ever seen. She looked like a withered old carcass. Her skin was grey and all wrinkles and hung on her bones like a wet cloth. Her old yellow/white hair fell in thin strands down from her head. She was all hunched over and if she could have stood up she would have only been about five feet tall so her hair almost reached the ground. The very tip of her hair was black. I could see her bones sticking out every where. She was so thin that I am certain that a strong light would just pass right through her. Everything about her looked, and this may sound unkind, but everything about her looked dead. Everything except her lips and her eyes. Uhhhg, her eyes! Even now they give me shivers. They were crystal clear like deep pools of water and when she looked at me I felt like she was sizing me up like a meal. And her lips? Where as the rest of her body was pretty much devoid of color her lips were a deep, deep red and I could see behind them the void where her teeth had been.

I asked her if she needed a ride somewhere. "Are you nuts?," I said to myself "this lady is probably the queen of the gulchies!"

"Oh yes that would be tasty" she said.

At that my ears perked up and my heart skipped a beat, "what could she mean by tasty?" I wondered and swallowed hard.

"Well lets get you in the van."

So I went around to the passenger side of the van to open the door for her and get out the little foot stool I was using to help the old folks climb up and down from the van. Just as I got around to the other side and oppened the door I looked up and let out a yelp again, "GAAAAAAAAAH!" (again internally). She was already in the van and grinning a toothless grin at me!

"Oh how sweet of you dearie, but I managed." And she let out a little cackle and when she did all the birds in the trees started squawking and flew away.

"How-how-did-you?" I stood there for a bit wondering how this little old lady had gotten to the other side of the van and climbed in by herself before I could get over there to help her. A cold wind kicked up dust from the road and engulfed the van in fog. A shiver ran up my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

"Well, uh, where should I take you?" I asked as I climbed into the drivers seat.

"Oh aren't you kind, I am just going up the road a bit, you know the little farm on the left just before the fork in the road?"

Oh yes I knew of it. What she called a farm we at camp refered to as "the compound" or the "commune." It was a group of houses all set back off the road behind a tall fence. All around the entrance were signs that read Keep Out and No Tresspassing. There were jokes that they had a grow opporation back there and that is why they were so secretive. Then of course there were the stories I mentioned before about Gulchies. Part of the myth was that this commune and others like it in the mountains was where the Gulchies lived and worked their wicked magic. What ever they were doing back there the place screamed stay away and mostly everyone did. These folks were certainly Gulchies, what ever that meant, and everyone gave the place a wide birth.

"Oh yeah, it isn't much past where I am going."

"How nice, you are certainly brave to pick up a little old lady like me...."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I interupted, (again this was still only in my head), "What the frick does she mean by that?!" Brave to pick up a little old lady like her? Why would I have to be brave? My mind began to race through every frightening image I had ever seen in the movies and in shows like Tails From the Cript. One scene in particular stuck in my mind. I don't remember where I saw this, but this guy picked up a hitch hiker and as they drove they began telling each other ghost stories. Finally the hitch hiker says to the driver, "you wanna see something really scary?" then he turns to the driver and bites off his face!

"She's a little old lady mike, she isn't gonna bite your face off. Besides, she doesn't even have any teeth." I assured myself. But then I began to imagine her pulling off that wrinkled old face to reveal some hidious monsters head and biting off my face. I was beginning to freak myself out. "Mike! What is wrong with you? You are scared of an old lady!" I chided myself. "I bet if I get to know her I will learn she is just some kindly old women."

"S -s-s-so... so you uh, were you laying in the ditch when I went by?"

"Oh yes. That was me. Sometimes when I get tired I lay down and rest for a bit. Especially when I haven't eaten in a while....

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! EATEN?! DID SHE SAY EATEN?!" (Internal Scream) "Calm down Mike, she just meant that she gets tired when she hasn't eaten. Maybe she is hypoglicimic." I began to argue with myself. "Yeah, or she just MIGHT BE THE UNDEAD!"

".... I am very old you know." I dared not ask her how old.

I regained my composure and asked why she was going down to the commune.

"I have dance lessons down there dearie..."

"AHHHHHHH - Oh wait - did she say dance lessons? Oh well that isn't so much scary as it is funny." I thought to myself.

"Dance lessons huh" I began to tease her a bit "Do you do the river dance?"

"Dearie, you are cute." As she said this she reached over and put her long bony hand on my thigh. I looked down I saw her long yellow finger nails and the large green veins in her hands.
I suddenly felt very very cold all over and decided that I wasn't going to tease her again. If she said she was going for dance lessons then I would leave it at that.

When we got to the commune I parked the van and got out to help her down from her seat. I moved quickly this time to get around to the other side of the van before she could get out. As I oppened the passenger side door I looked in and she was gone!

"BAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I let out a yelp, yes, again internally.

Then closing the door and turning around I found myself face to face with her.

"DAHHHHHHHHH! HOW DOES SHE KEEP DOING THAT?!"

"You are a brave boy, now lean down here and let me give you your reward." As she said this I shivered and my knees began to literally knock together.

She reached up with her bony arms and pulled my face down close to hers. She seemed really strong for her size, encredibly strong actually. I felt myself giving in like she had some kind of power over me, pulling me closer and closer. I looked down to see her mouth begin to open...

"Oh God. This is it. This is my last breath on earth." I thought, "They are gonna find my body in the ditch all drained of blood and two inexplicable puncture wounds on my neck. Or with my face bit off. Dude they are gonna have to have a closed coffin!" I began to see my whole life flash before my eyes. "Will people be sad at my funeral?" I wondered. "What will happen if they don't find my body?" "How will people remmber me?" "Do I have on clean underwhere?"

Suddenly my face was next to hers and I could feel her warm breath on my neck. She tilted my head to the side and reared her head back openning wide her mouth and I could could hear her hiss as she took in a breath plunging her face into my neck. My heart raced as I felt myself give way to my fate. "Well," I thought, "this is how it ends. Eaten alive by someones grandma."

"Smooch... smooch...smooch"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed (in my head) as I felt her gums on my jugular...


"Wait... Is she gumming my neck? Holy crap she is gumming my neck! Ahhhhh AN OLD LADY IS GIVING ME A HICKY! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Suddonly I felt the strength of a dozen men surge through me and I broke her hold. I lept back into the van and raced down the drive way not looking back. My heart was pounding in my chest and cold beads of sweat were dripping down my back. I reached the road and stepped on the gas and I spead away.

When I reached home I parked the van and sat in silence. I was trembling and I could here my heart pounding in my ears. I pulled down the visor and opened up the vanity mirror. I was pail as a ghost. Using my tie to wipe off the slobber I pulled back my colar to inspect my neck. Just under my colar I could see a red splotch forming on my neck.

I let out a loud sigh, turned off the van and walked toward my cabin. I had been attacked by a vampire octigenarian and only survived because she had left her dentures at home.