Hey, I haven't forgotten about this blog thing!

Wow...been a little bit since I've written anything...here.

That doesn't mean I haven't been writing much, though. Quite the opposite; I've been writing quite a bit. Since I last wrote something here, I took a week's vacation to Portland for the Barbershop Harmony Society's annual International Convention with Deena, Mom and my brother-in-law Dan (and 6000 of my closest friends), led an interfaith service the Sunday of the convention, saw a Giants game at AT&T Park (and then watched Matt Cain's no-hitter on TV), successfully defended my thesis for my third doctorate, led worship (and gave the sermon) in my local church, attended Harmony College NW, performed with the Cascade Chorus in Florence, stayed up way too late for two weeks watching the Olympics, taught a few classes (and graded a boatload more) for Master's International School of Divinity, attended a Yanni concert with Deena...and fed the cats.

There are now four volumes of the Cosantóirí Chronicles in ePub format, and a fifth volume is being written right now. (There may be a sixth volume yet.) I admit to having given up on iBooks; I wanted a broader audience than iPad owners. Each of the completed volumes will be available shortly. These trace the story of the modern-day children of Nuala of Innisfaire-called Cosantóirí, Irish for Those Who Protect-starting with a young man who has some mental abilities...and no idea of the background of any of them.

These are not Christian fiction. They were never intended to be, and they are not geared for tweenagers, young teenagers, or immature adults. There are no werewolves, vampires, or other undead people in them. (There are zombies, but those are cheese-filled yeast buns.) These are written about a world similar to ours today, but not quite so dark: the good guy gets the girl, people still have morals (by and large), communities pull together, friends help friends. 

These are stories of a nature that I like to read. 

Outside of that, I have a few other things that I'm doing, but more on that later. I have a meeting tonight, and have to feed both the cats and myself beforehand-and prep for teaching a class tomorrow and Saturday.

My doctor says I should slow down a little bit. Something about being too busy, and too much stress. I'm writing to relax. Does writing four 400+ page books sound like I need to relax a little more? :)

Enough for now.

Updates, iBooks, and What's New

Yes, I did remember I have a blog. I’ve been busy lately...more on that toward the bottom.

Every so often, I slow down and take part of my work day to run virus checks, malware and spyware checks, battery checks, and updates on the trusty MacBook. I do this during the week in case something goes wrong; I feel like I get better customer service during business hours than on weekends. (Not to mention I was camping this last weekend, and thus, not able to do the updates.) These updates inevitably take the better part of a morning, but always ends up giving me a laptop I can trust to do what I ask of it. 

The other day was one of those days. I’d put it off long enough, but with the update to my checkbook program, I didn’t have an excuse to put it off any longer.

Now, before you all snicker at me and remind me that “I thought Macs don’t have a lot of issues”, you need to understand: I work online, opening things that my students send me. Sometimes as many as 40 of these things daily. And bless their hearts, a fair number of them would be horrified to find out that there’s a nasty bit of code-a virus-attached to their homework, a little gift they don’t even know they have. While that code doesn’t affect the MacBook, it can reside on it-and then get sent to others with a Windows based computer. With as many students as I deal with, that could translate to a large number of computers that could be infected pretty quickly...plus some of the school’s units.

Add to that all the e-mail I get from barbershoppers, friends, loved ones and so forth-some of whom have admitted they don’t know much about computer viruses, much less computers-and you can see why I carry malware, spyware and anti-virus programs. It’s more to protect everyone else than myself.

Those all got updated because the operating system was updated. That means I am now running Mac OS X 10.7.4, otherwise known as Lion. That little chore-updating just the op system-took me the better part of two hours. Most of that is because I had to download Lion from the App Store...the download alone ran nearly an hour. I went and got some tea while it downloaded, came home and installed everything. 

I like it well enough...though I have had to make a few adjustments to my workflow. The two most obvious changes are Mission Control-the replacement for a switching program called Spaces-and another program I like better, called Launchpad. Launchpad lets me find my applications a lot faster. Mission Control-now that I’ve tweaked a few things-will actually be an improvement over Spaces. It’ll take me a few days to get used to the new op system, but it will be worth it as the MacBook seems to be running cooler and a little faster.

I still have one program to update, but that will have wait until my next paycheck. Fortunately, the programs I use the most were the latest versions, so I didn’t have to upgrade those.

The nice thing about all this updating is that I don’t have to patch everything every week. The downside is when I have do have to update, it can take some time and money. But it’s well spent in that I have a MacBook that can run rings around a Windows 7 computer, even now. 

The added benefit-and the one I’ve been the most wanting to play with-is a little gem called iBooks Author. A few of you know that in addition to writing a dissertation over the last year, I’ve also been writing some fiction on the side. It’s more science-fictionish than Christian, for various reasons. The main thing here is that I now have the ability to create both an iBook and an EPUB version of my books. I’m working on the iBook formatting for book one now; editing is taking some adjustments. Font changes, text size, and a few other tweaks that can happen now that I can see what a finished product will hopefully look like. It should remain about 300 pages in length, if all goes well. The EPUB version will have to be re-edited, and may end up about 350 pages plus. 

More about this little project when the first book is ready to go. I have three volumes completed that need to move into the final formatting, and am still writing a forth volume as well.  

Enough for now. 

On Ash Wednesday, Facebook's Timeline, and Life

Ash Wednesday was not that long ago as I write this. I did something that evening I haven’t done in quite a while: I went to an Ash Wednesday service. (Yes, I took ashes.) To me, this is a time of reflection on my own mortality and sinfulness. 

This also coincides with Facebook’s impending rollout of their timeline. So I’ve been adding stuff to my timeline, and I’ve been struck with a new sense of my mortality, if nothing else. It’s been easy to look at my life in small chunks; with the short-term memory problems I’ve had since long before high-school, that’s easy. But to start adding things like the beginning and ending of schools, my marriage (now twenty years strong), a little employment, some travels, and few events that helped shape who I am today...and one thing occurred to me.

Despite myself, my failings, my feelings, and my sheer stubbornness...I’ve spent my entire adult life either chasing God, or being chased by God. (And in a few cases, both.) Bible school, seminary, church work, my current ministry with Master’s International School of Divinity (coming up on twelve years there). Starting with high school, going back to church. Going on a mission trip. Then a year plus later, leaving church for a time (for reasons I won’t publish). Getting my business straight with Jesus in 1984. Surviving with my faith strengthened after my Navy time. Surviving re-entry to college and the civilian world. Dealing with God’s call on my life. Surviving Bible college, for all that. Surviving my first ministry position (and learning from my mistakes there). 

But to see all that, in a linear form also reminded me of a lot of good things. Life hasn’t all been in survival or crisis mode. Deena and I have traveled a lot together. We’ve been to Ireland, the Grand Canyon, Canada...and all over the US. (I’m not going to put in all our travels-but some highlights will be added.) We’ve seen a lot, learned a lot, laughed a lot. You have to laugh a lot on long car trips with your spouse or you can get cranky in the middle of Kansas. Or Nebraska. Or Iowa, Wyoming, Georgia...you get the idea.

It also reinforced that I don’t always understand today’s culture. I don’t watch a lot of TV; if I’m not singing barbershop somewhere or doing something online, I’m probably reading something. What TV I do watch tends to be oddball stuff: some news; hockey or other sports (like Canadian football); Food Network or Weather Channel (remember the days when you could actually get a weather forecast there?), on occasion the Discovery Channel, PBS and National Geographic. Movies? I think the last movie I saw in a theatre was The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. The last movie I watched the video for? The live-action Speed Racer. (I can hear you all now: Geek!) Modern music? My poor iPod must feel like it’s stuck in a time warp. A lot of stuff from the 70’s and 80’s, and a lot of that is what we used to call “Contemporary Christian Music.” There’s also a boatload of Southern Gospel and Praise and Worship...much of which is from the late 80’s and the 90’s. (Yes, there’s a lot of barbershop-both quartets and choruses-on it as well, as well as some Celtic and Hawai’ian.) 

But what struck me the most was the pursuit of the Holy. My entire adult life has been spent studying the Bible, learning about how God and Jesus work in our lives, learning theology from several different angles. I remember the kind of person I was prior to 1984, prior to that time when Jesus grabbed me and shook me and said “Follow Me!” I told him I accepted His gift, and would go where He sent me and do what He asked. I’ve never regretted it. (I’ve questioned my sanity and His sense of humor at times, but never once regretted it.) It took three years of His prevenient grace before I got the hint, and some reminders-gentle and otherwise-along the way. 

Earlier on, I mentioned both my mortality and my own sinfulness. He died for me and my sins, and He died for you and yours. That’s what Ash Wednesday’s about, really. I’ll be spending a little less time online, and a little more time thinking about being a better Christian. Spending a little more time in the Bible, and in prayer, and some quiet time where it’s just me and my thoughts. 

The best news of all: He rose again. That’s why we celebrate Easter.

Enough for now.

On "Simple Church"

“Not all readers are leaders, but all leaders are readers” (Attributed to Harry S. Truman).

I may not be a leader in the conventional sense, but I am a reader. Sometimes too much so; I dislike getting rid of any of my books and so about 60% of my library resides in cedar-plastic tubs in a 10x10 climate controlled (read: inside access) storage bin. While I wait for my dissertation for what will be my third doctorate-this one a Ph.D-to move forward (the writing’s done, and I’m waiting for permission to send in the rough draft for review), I’m reading. Books on prayer and contemplation, preaching, some Wesleyan theology, and some books on leadership and church development. 

Just finished one today called “Change the World: Recovering the Message and Mission of Jesus”, and am about 40% done with a book called “Simple Church.” “Change the World”, by Mike Slaughter, basically is about the concept of getting out from the walls of one’s church and doing ministry, especially to those who have little. “For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me” (Matthew 26:11, NRSV) is still true; Slaughter’s book essentially asks the question “What if Church was a verb instead of a noun?” (Part of the Rethink Church question, for all you Methodists out there), and “Which is better: Expanding your facilities or your impact?” Good questions-but before you read his book, read Simple Church. 

No, really. I mean it.

Simple Church-for those of you reading this that either know me, are or have been one of my students-focuses on one thought that I’ve said, taught and harped on for years on end: The Church Universal is programming their people to death! The concept of Simple Church (as I’ve read to this point) is that it’s not enough to have programs, unless they are part of a streamlined growth and disciple-making process. You can do more with less-and probably should be. A great companion book to this is Easum’s “Sacred Cows Make Gourmet Burgers.” This book stresses that sometimes, you need to get rid of certain ministries that have been there since dirt was new (hence the ‘sacred cow’)-to make Ministry happen. (Catch the difference?) I’m reading it in conjunction with the other two books. In fact, Simple Church states that...well...The Church is programming their people to death, and they are burning out instead of growing deeper in their faith. Too many churches have too many programs that don’t do anything but make one feel like a hamster. You know, running on the holy habitrail wheel, never getting outside the walls of the church to meet, much less minister to others...and having a faith as a result that’s an inch deep. Jesus didn’t call us to make church members, but to “...make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19-20a, NRSV). It’s challenging reading...but I find I am resonating with it. You might find the same thing. So I challenge you to read these books as well. 

Who knows? Maybe you’ll find their message resonates with you, too.

Enough for now.

Three Days Before Christmas

‘Twas three days before Christmas and all through the land,

the malls were a madhouse, shopping madness was fanned.

People were all over, driving like fools

to get some trinket to make someone drool.

But in our apartment, there was none of that dread

for Deena and I had planned well ahead. 

The gifts were all mailed, and so were the cards,

to places quite near, and to some that are far. 

The performances were done, and all with great care,

and we could finally relax and sit in our chairs. 

The groceries are bought and are ready to feast

out to my in-laws, who live to our east. 

The cats are all sleeping, there’s football to see,

and I had a chance to think of the year that should be.

More than that, though, I had a chance to ponder 

of Joseph and Mary, and how they had wondered

about the birth of Jesus, for that is the reason

we go through the madness of each Christmas season.

His birth was foretold in the days of the past,

and his time here was short-it wasn’t to last. 

He lived, he died, and he rose once again,

to provide us salvation-hallelujah, amen!

So in the insanity that is the holiday season,

take time out to think of the Savior-and reason

to ask forgiveness of sin, your spirit renewed

your life filled with peace-with His Spirit imbued.

----------

After all, Christmas is about the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, The Son of God the Father, the second person of the Living, Triune God. He was born of Mary, that He might be fully God-yet fully man. Do I understand why, after all the years in Bible school, Seminary, and so forth? 

No, I don't. What I do know that He is a holy, righteous, God. He is also a loving God, not wanting anyone to perish. That’s I’m glad He chose to come, live, die for my sins and yours...and come back to life. He died for all people. But before that...he had to be born, and that’s what we celebrate. 

Merry Christmas to all, and a blessed New Year as well. 

On the loss of Shadow, my beloved man-cat

He came to us on a cold, rainy late October-early November evening. He left on a cold November afternoon, full of years but no longer able to function, his own body betraying him, destroying his red blood cells from within. He came as he left: on his own terms.

November 6, my beloved man-cat Shadow (his picture is in the upper corner of this blog) slipped away while I sat in DFW, unable to be there. He went quickly, surrounded by Deena and her mom, his body failing him. They were preparing the shots that would ease his pain when he simply left this life. They injected him anyway, but it was no longer needed. I guess he’d had enough of needles, thank you.

He was the giver of kitty-kisses, the keeper of secrets, a nibbler of treats both forbidden and allowed. He loved carbs, oddly enough, and earned the nickname The Carb King. (He also liked yogurt, and would stick his nose way into a cup of the stuff to get at it.)  He was a man’s cat. He preferred men’s voices singing to women’s, and would come sit and listen when It’s About Time met at the apartment to rehearse. He was a smart cat, letting Cali do the dirty work of waking one of us up to feed them. 

Mostly he was my cat. Oh, he was nice to Deena-especially when she fed him-but I was the one he liked and made little secret of it. He knew when I was ill. When I was recovering from surgery a few years back, he didn’t go far. In winter, he’d curl up at our feet when we slept, knowing the electric blankets would be on.

He came to us a kitten, with bat-wing ears and monster paws, wanting to be with people when I was ministering at the church on Boonville, IN. It was raining, we lived on a busy state highway that ran through town, and his fur at that time was about the color of wet concrete. I told Deena to do something with him, before the senior pastor called Animal Control-or worse, the cute little bugger got hit. Since the garage was porous like a Swiss cheese, she put him in the basement.

We tried to find the owner but to no avail. He became king of his domain shortly thereafter, often watching anime with me after working hours. We left for Christmas that year, and on our return this kitten was suddenly a man-cat. We fixed that in short order. When we moved to Evansville, he cried like a baby, and noshed on my fingertips to the point where I couldn’t carry anything for several hours afterward.

He never was a lap cat, preferring to rub up against my legs while I worked on stuff. He once ate a fairly large amount of processed cheese stuff; we almost lost him then. We managed to get him stabilized, and he made the trip with us to Oregon, and when we moved into the apartment, joined his “sister” Cali. 

He mellowed a little with age, never totally liking when people came stomping up the stairs. Often, when I came in from wherever, he’d been in the cat-tree or on his pillow on the edge of the couch looking at me as if to say “Where you been?”


His purr-when he chose to do so-was a big, rumbly thing. And when I did the laundry, he'd come up on the bed and help press off something warm by laying on it.   

A little more than a year ago, he became diabetic, and we knew we were now on borrowed time with him. He was a good sport with his insulin shots, and still loved to romp and play like all good kitties do. He was active even right before I left, playing with a cat toy of some sort.

Even so, he’d been sleeping more, even by cat standards. Oh, he’d come in at four PM or so and love on me, and was a little friendlier than usual, even letting me drag him to the vet for his checkup. When I left, he sat next to my suitcase, watching me as I packed. Before I left, I got to pet him, told him goodbye, and to be a good boy-and that I’d be home soon. 

I didn’t know that would be the last time he’d hear those words from me. 

As I wrote most of this, I was still waiting for my flight. Still at DFW, tears in my eyes. Deena called, said he was anemic...badly anemic. I told her to have the emergency vet do what they could.

Not long after, the vet called me and told me he was going fast. I had them put Deena on, told her to take a few last pictures, tell him that Daddy-cat loved him...and then end his misery, put his body on ice, and I’d see the body when I get home. I called her from SFO, and she gave me the news he departed on his own terms. 

But I know that somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge, in a golden field with trees to climb, sits the spirit of my boy, dozing in the sun, chasing fat field mice, doing all the things that good kitties love to do, waiting for a voice...my voice, calling to him, telling him it’s time to come Home. 

Until then...I’m gonna miss my little man.

Rest in peace, buddy. 

On Border's, Photography, and the Digital Revolution

I recently went into my local Border’s and purchased three books on photography. They were 70% off; for a little more than 26 bucks I was able to get $90 work of reading material. Not too shabby, you ask me.

I’m sad to see Border’s closing. They're yet another victim of bad economic times, bad corporate mistakes and the digital revolution. There’s a Barnes and Noble over near Valley River Mall, but it’s not as convenient. Powell’s doesn’t have a local shop, and Smith Family Books and Tsunami books are also not as convenient. (And living here, I really miss Moe’s.) 

But my trip to Border’s books-and subsequent purchase-got me to thinking about another loss to the digital age: good photography-and the stores that supported it. 

It’s my opinion that the web is full of bad pictures. Not evil, not adult-though you can make an argument for that as well, and you’d be right-but just simply bad. For every five good pictures, there's at least a dozen bad ones. Sometimes they're blurry or out of focus, sometimes with no thought given to any sort of composition...and sometimes they look like they were taken by a three year old. Tops of heads missing, cut off at the knees, etc. Add to that the fact the most cellphones are the functional equivalent of an old Instamatic-or my Ektralite 10. They really weren’t designed to take photographic art...they were designed to take pictures of Uncle Art at the family picnic. 

Please understand: I have used my iPhone’s camera on more than one occasion, usually when I don’t want to haul my Minolta DiMage Z6 around. The iPhone’s okay-with 5 megapixels it’s better than many-but still no substitute for a real camera with a viewfinder. It’s hard for me, on a bright day, to shoot without a viewfinder-and I find I can’t compose the shot quite as well. (You can read about some of my cameras here.)

In the old days, there were stores that helped you with getting your gear, and at the very least showing you how to get going with it. When you were tired of that Instamatic and its fixed-focus lens...or of that Starflex with a fixed focus lens...or of that Polaroid that ate film like I eat pizza, you went to these stores and got better equipment. Once you had that, you went back for film, developing, additional lenses, flash equipment, camera bags, tripods, and so forth. There were books that showed you how to take better pictures, and things like gray cards and light meters. Fotomat kiosks dotted the landscape; if you were willing to pay for it you could get your prints back in a day.  

Then larger chains started eating away at those businesses, and when digital cameras really took over, they vanished. Fotomat was the first casualty; some stores started offering your prints in three hours or less...for less. Which was great when I was shooting 110 in high school; I took my film to Safeway because I could afford it on a high-school budget. 

But that came at a cost. Now places like Reed’s Camera in downtown Walnut Creek and Gerlach’s in Eugene, over by the UO-gone. Wentling’s in Concord, where I grew up, which still exists-but mainly does studio work, as near as I can tell. Dot Dotson’s in Eugene has made the transition to the digital age, and is still going but it isn’t quite as large as it was even a few years ago. Some places survive by having a broader appeal: Adolph Gasser’s in San Francisco, Helix Camera in Chicago, Pro Photo Supply in Portland, and B&H in New York are some great examples.  

But what’s sad is that people are taking scads more pictures. They take them, then attempt to photoshop them into something decent. News flash: A bad photo is still a bad photo, even after you’ve cropped it, colored it, added effects to it, and massaged the thing to the point where it no longer resembles the original work. Note: I do not have Photoshop. For the time my shots are on the MacBook, they reside in iPhoto, where I may on occasion crop a shot, lighten a dark shot, or color-correct a shot. I’m not against things like Photoshop...I am against taking something really bad and attempting to make it into something great online. 

In short: I’m the same way with cameras that I am with computers. Learn to use your equipment, please.

Which brings me back, in a roundabout way, to my final trip into Border’s. I went in there originally to see if they had one book on Applescript. They didn’t; the one copy that they did have before the chain tanked was sold at full price. Interestingly enough, many of the books on photography were now right in the computers section...which is why they’re now in my possession.

Seems appropriate enough, somehow: both books and photography are victims of the digital revolution.

Enough for now.