Clouds v Sunshine

Thursday 22
Kings and kingdoms will all pass away
But there's something about that Name.

Friday 23
I had another physical therapy appointment in the morning. My back and neck have improved greatly and I am so thankful for the care of Dr. Choi and co. The healing process after a car accident is such an important thing, and they've really put me back on my feet.

I also had the opportunity to do some freelance work for a potential contract employer; the meeting took place in the afternoon. The meeting was a chess game, two people each sizing up the other, each assessing how the other might make their business more profitable. Unfortunately, some questions of ethics were raised in my mind. We'll see what happens, but I won't compromise my professional integrity for any reason.

Study in the evening was good again, back in 1 Timothy 4, and Hebrews 12 by way of conversational rabbit trails. The ever-genuine Rick DeVaul leading discussion. It's always a wonder to me how meek and strong he can be at the same time, complete with his twinkling eyes and salt & pepper beard. He reminds me of Laura Ingalls Wilder's childhood memoirs concerning her father. God wants this to be my credo and modus operandi for the time being. (Well, actually Christ is technically the credo. Anyway.)

Saturday 24
Got up a little earlier than I wanted, and put on my grey suit and that purple J.Crew tie I've been meaning to wear someday. I like to look sharp at a wedding; in retrospect I should have just chopped my beard off and gotten a haircut. But none of that is important. The wedding was important. For those of you who don't know my best-female-friend Christina (formerly) Yakel and my Bible-study buddy Jeremy Walker, this was the equivalent of Jim and Pam finally getting married. Since Jer is from FBC and Christina is from HBC, of course all the Fairhaven guys were there, and most of the Hillview friends and most of Martha and the Chores, so we were critiquing the wedding band the whole time, taking notes for our own debut at the DeVaul wedding in June. We are all anxious not to biff our first wedding. It goes without saying that Christina was beautiful in her golden tresses and pure-white gown, Jer more fun than ever stalking his long, tall tuxedo around the reception, and both of them full of charisma and sparkle. The succinct service and bubbly reception were truly celebratory, and all of us worked up a healthy glow, dancing and singing our exultation.

Sunday 25
Hillview's German intern Tobi preached at Grace on Sunday, and his natural earnestness complemented well the slim boyish carriage and warm coloration so common in young German scholarly types. He is truly a sincere seeker of Christ and I am grateful to have gained a friend in him, as I think he is exactly what he appears to be, and will continue to be of humble and solid repute, a man worth knowing and by whom to be sharpened. He preached on the importance of sharing Christ with people who need him, an echo of Friday night's study taught by Rick, and the tears in D.L. Moody's view of the world.

Martha and the Chores practice was a little lame-o in some respects, but it was refreshing to have Peter shoulder some of the responsibility for the practice. Still everyone kept coming to me instead of him with questions, though. All things considered, we have a way to go before we're kings and queens of R&B, so I anticipate a few more weeks of rough going. I do wish the bride had requested a little more Nat King Cole and a bit less Bebe & Cece Winans. :P

Monday 26
Since I don't think stealing Zooey Deschanel's heart is a realistic plan, I'm keepin' my eye out for someone who could sing me this song. It's been stuck in my head for weeks.

It doesn't get better than home,
now, does it?

She would never have to sing me this song, even though it's cute as anything:

Stopped by my parents' house after work for a bite, a chat, and some family prayer time. It was pleasant. Lately prayer has been a necessary release valve more than any kind of discipline for which I might take credit.

Homesuppin' and a Christian Bachelor Party

Thursday 25

As much as I wanted to get some things done at home, and be a crotchety little loner, I realized that my own need for intimate society paralleled that of the tone in my parents' pleas that I come over for a little dinner. Even though my brother is still at home, he is rarely there bodily, and even scarcer in attentiveness, as he is often mentally consumed by various outside undertakings even while physically present. As the passage of time (and the increase in my hunger) was inversely proportional to my desire to cook that mess of something I'd been meaning to cook, I conceded and drove to my parents' place for some chicken, roast apples, brown rice, and fellowship. Went home with every intention of going to sleep early, didn't fall asleep till 1:30. C'est la vie.

Friday 26

Woke up and went to the chiropractor's office for a physical therapy session, then headed to work. Work was happily busy, and afterward I posted some new things to my music blog before heading home to throw some things in a bag and commuting over to the Jeremys' house. There I met Jer Cooper and Mike Shaddle, and we packed up his raised Jeep Cherokee. After a bit of Chipotle and stopping for gas, we headed out. Conversation on the way up was good and deep. Jer and I postulated on being sin and righteousness, being Christian singles and preparing for eventual godly marriages, while Mike added observations from the perspective of a married peer. It was a good long conversation in which all three of us took turns, and it lasted us almost all the way up to Tahoe. We greeted some of the other guys who had already arrived for Jer Walker's bachelor weekend, including best man Josh Walker and Jer's UCD roommate Tim Ingrum. Stayed up watching Arrested Development Season One.

Saturday 27

Rose mid-morning to waffles and staggered Bible time. Finding that the tennis courts were closed and without nets, we proceeded to the outdoor basketball courts in the cold and played for three hours. We played four games, and oddly enough my shots were hitting, so I was on the winning team twice. We all had to stop and gasp for breath occasionally, as the icy, thinned mountain air clutched our lungs with its numbing talons. The thin sunlight soon forced us to doff our tees. It felt like summer in the midst of winter, getting a sunburn on the blacktop with snow in the hedges. The UV-rays and fresh air were revelatory to my hibernating skin. My greatest regret is that I played in my Chuck Taylor sneakers, which, classic casual chic or no, have not been considered proper sporting equipment since the 1960's. I discovered the reason for their obsolescence; I did sense the hot-spots but played through them, so by the end of the game I had blistered badly on the balls of both feet.

Later in the day we went to Fire+Ice for a perfect guy lunch: all-all-you-can-eat American food, cooked Mongolian barbecue-style. The group wandered about for a bit, myself hobbling like an old man, trying to find a place to buy a new game of Risk and some cigars.

We found the requisite tobacco but had no such luck with the Risk, instead opting to watch a matinee of Cop-Out after we were done being distracted by a parade. As much as I wanted to love a Tracy Morgan/Bruce Willis flic, it did not rise above the level of "generic guy movie" or "blatant Tracy Morgan antics vehicle" at any point, and most of us simply laughed at how bad the film was.

After the movies we went to some casinos, which were far less classy than I would have liked. For some reason I anticipated a crowd of nicely dressed, simpering moneyed sorts exchanging laughs and small-talk over sly gambler glances, amid the tinkle of champagne running over crystal. In general it just looked like a dark video arcade for grownups, with claustrophobic rooms, ugly, cheap, brightly colored carpet that crept up the walls to the ceilings, and dingy lights half-heartedly flashing everywhere.

A pack of tattooed, alcoholic d-bag types hung around with the occasional overly made-up woman. Cigarette staleness was everywhere. These women would probably have been more attractive in a different setting, with more becoming attire and less makeup, and a different outlook on life. But as is, they were instead instead quite unattractively beer-swooning and yelling at the big-screen UFC fighters. "BREAK'IZ AAAARM! BREAK HISZ ARRMMMmmm. Awww," they'd fade, going into a dissatisfied murmur of disappointment when sportsmanship was not in fact thrown to the wind in this particular televised match.

We spent an hour or so pumping quarters into a machine that makes plastic horses rattle awkwardly around a fuzzy miniature racetrack, while grossly cleavage-burdened, tired-looking women brought us cheap beers. After watching Jer Walker quietly turn $30 into $60 at the blackjack table, we exited, all underwhelmed, and drove back to the cabin, exhausted. Over pizza we watched The Hangover, during which hilarity I fell soundly asleep without realizing I was doing so.

Sunday 28

Woke nine-ish, had a little quiet time in 2 Samuel, since we'll be studying that this coming Saturday. Jer Walker did too, so we chatted a bit about how remarkable these stories were, at the beginning of David's reign, when he finally had the power to demand that they bring his wife back to him, who had been given away to another man, and how that man followed her all the way back weeping for her. Who does one pity? Both men had been wronged perhaps. I wonder that so little is said about her own feelings in the matter.

After another waffle-coffee breakfast, those of us who had fallen asleep finished the movie, and then cleaned the cabin. Cleaning the cabin was much more rewarding than finishing the movie, which was really only funny in flashes. But the cabin soon looked orderly and grateful, and shone a bit in the spring mid-morning. I cleaned the musty 70's bathroom, shaking out brown and yellow shag rugs that clearly had never been disturbed at any time in the last two decades. We packed and left, the Jeremys, Josh, and Mike for the slopes, and the rest of us home to our various responsibilities.

Tim, Karl Albright, Jay Adams, Robert Brown and I rode back together, chatting about various theological and political subjects of interest, and also concerning the mysterious, nuanced motivations behind the decision of some elderly to sell all in favor of RV living. Robert asked a good deal of questions about my own home church at Grace, which as usual I found hard to describe without sounding negative. But I think I succeeded in communicating some of the personality and ministry dilemmas without criminalizing anyone, which was a relief. It's especially hard to try to answer questions about why Beck and the other elder left recently, because I really don't know for sure. I only have guesses, and the truth is probably a good deal less dramatic than some curious types would probably like.

On arriving home I showered all the weekend away, nursing my sore muscles and blistered feet, and prepared for worship practice, which went relatively well again. Looks like we'll be ready for Summit, but I'll get more organized yet.

Various Joyous Boredoms

Friday 12.

Marooned. Drove across town to meet a fellow and look at the car he listed on Craigslist. Mike Alongi left me in his debt by driving across town from a different direction to give a second opinion. It was a maroon-colored 1993 Honda Accord four-door, two years newer than the one I had, with fewer miles. The owner listed it for $2500, which was a good amount for a high quality car of that age and mileage, so it was likely to be in pretty good shape. I was a little worried because the listing only showed one photograph of the passenger side of the car. It was also on the east side of town. I got there a bit before Mike or the owner did, and stepped out in the suburban drizzle to look at the car. As I walked toward it, I could see the passenger side, and it looked good. Toward the rear of the car, however, my heart began to sink. The back window had a Raiders sticker in the lower right-hand corner. I thought, well, I could scrape that off. But then I saw the blunt puncture damage below and to the left of the rear license plate in the trunk lid. Bad news. The trunk didn't seal properly. Looked like it had been badly repaired from a collision, and the listing had said it had a clean record! But then my mood changed entirely as I rounded the corner of the rear driver's side. All the doors and the fender on the left side of the car were black, and ill-fitting and dented. All the windows were rolled down... in the rain. I didn't bother to stay and wait for the owner, and I managed to intercept Mike before he got there, and take him out to lunch as a thank you for participating in my wild-goose chase. The owner of the car never called me to ask where I was. I think he must not have showed at all, or knew why I didn't show.

#RUBBERBANDFIGHT I tried to start a "rubberbandfight" hash on Twitter. Being that I am an amateur of the tweet, I think I should have put more thought into how such a thing might be accomplished. Almost no-one participated in shooting imaginary rubberbands at each other, which surprised me. I even tried to get Conan O'Brien's Twitter account to do it, but no. Most of my friends didn't jump in either. Only Quell returned fire. Note to self: two points for Quell.

As an unexpected positive externality to the failed rubberband fight on Twitter, a small rubberband skirmish broke out on my Facebook page, predictably, between people who had been at the wedding, including the Grove girls and Andrew's sister Sarah. Note to self: points for Lisa, Karena, and Sarah.

Saturday 13.

Saturday morning Bible study with the Fairhaven guys was canceled, so I stayed home and studied after the 6:00 AM fantasy baseball draft for my college chum Jeremy Purves' "Hitting the Bottle League." (I won the championship in 2008, but in 2010 I don't expect to even match the 3rd place ranking I achieved last year.)

Saturday night we caught up with the old "college group" crowd at Grace McCarthy and Katie Lanet's apartment. Trent couldn't come, which is just as well since Katie's new boyfriend Steven Pinheiro was there. But Peter came, as did Faith, and the girls' childhood friend Danni was there with her then-boyfriend, now-husband Sheldon, along with his pal Matt Ehlers. A good time was had goofing around with the newer guys, and overall it was a fun reunion and minimally awkward. Amid the highlights of the evening, such as our raucous rounds of Taboo, Matt and I discussed fantasy baseball and I agreed to sign on with his dynasty league. I think I will only be in two leagues this year.

Sunday 14.

Troubadour: Church, Churched, Was Churching, Have Churched, Had Churched, Will Church, Will Have Churched Helped Mike Alongi with worship music on Sunday. I was approached by a couple people afterward who said it sounded very nice, clearly with the added, emphatic, "you should come back next week." There was a very transparent concern among some of these folks, who are seasonal interns at our church and don't know all the history, that maybe I don't consistently come to church because there's something wrong. Who knows what they think? Backslider and without accountability? Maybe just a loner?

It makes me feel like their concerns are a little silly. I need God's grace like any other creation, but by that grace I persist, and am not less joyful or diligent for missing home-church fellowship occasionally. I tend to be there at church two Sundays a month, then out of town somewhere else one weekend a month, leaving the fourth Sunday of any given month to either help out in Oakland where my parents minister, sleep in and say heck with it, or visit somewhere else. Four weeks prior I slept in, and only went to the worship service, and had to leave promptly afterward. The next Sunday I was visiting friends in the East Bay and attended Fairhaven. Two weeks back I had attended the starved little Romanian church where my parents minister in Oakland, and helped with music. One week prior I was in Oregon, and now I was back home at Grace Bible Chapel.

An oddity about Grace is that if you don't go to the Breaking of Bread service at 9 O'Clock every week, people think you've left the church, and they feel bad, but they don't call to see what's up. They just give you quizzically concerned looks when you do inevitably reappear after your one- or two- (or in this case three-)week hiatus. The thing about that service is that it has changed. It used to be alive, but a lot of people have left, and it feels like a ritual, a formality. So I have not made it as much the priority as used to be my wont. I miss it, but thus far, attending the dead-wood versions of the last year-and-a-half hasn't brought it back yet.

Practice with Martha and the Chores, the current name of the ever-slightly changing lineup formerly known as the Summit Worship Band and the Fracehavenview Worship Band, was frustratingly bad. But practices have been so good most weeks, as we get ready for Summit and for John and Kaitlyn's June wedding, that one bad week will be okay. Tessa Devaul sent me a text afterward encouraging me not to worry that the practice was so frazzled, that it was okay and I'm doing a good job. Note to self: yeah you guessed it, 2 points for Tessa. The point, whether helping Mike, helping the Romanians, or practicing with the band, is to worship. In the end it's a mercy I didn't totally lose track of worshiping Him amid everything.

WEEKEND SCOREBOARD
Mike Alongi	10
Quell	2
Lisa Grove	1
Karena Grove	1
Sarah Keyarts	1
Tessa Devaul	2

Week Off, Week On

The week of April Fools' Day I had off from school. There were no April Follies. I got back my grades, which amounted to another 4.0.

Thursday, April 3, I had the day off work, so I crashed at Trent's house the night before and we set out on the road after breakfast. We decided to go north, try out Highway 1 and see how far we could go in a day. Ate lunch in a tiny town on Hwy 1 called Point Reyes Station (which Trent kept mispronouncing RAH-yez). We ended up continuing north, and disembarking at a beach for a bit. (Check out these maps. I labeled everything and included pictures. Linking to the larger version might be easier.)

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That was good, but we hadn't even gotten as far as Jenner before we decided we ought to head back. Well, that didn't take long. Heading south on Hwy 101, we made up most of the afternoon's distance in about 15-20 minutes. Crossing the Golden Gates again, we arranged to meet up with my old friend JP and his girl Christine. Ate at an Italian restaurant, and it was good.

Friday, April 4 was relatively uneventful other than the fact that two of my new classes were canceled so I had to reshuffle my schedule. This quarter I will be working for P. Svalya, Inc.(my old boss), on MWF, and my new job in the Marketing Department at the college will occupy my Tuesdays and Thursdays. I will be carrying 11 college units and working roughly 40 hours. Woo.

Over the first weekend of April we saw this movie called Stop Loss, which was pretty much depressing. Went with Aundrea, Katie, Bethany, Chris and Peter. Katie wanted to see it because she thought it was going to be a chick flick. After all, it had a bunch of boy-toy non-actors in it, like Channing Tatum and Ryan Philippe. But in the end it just made Bethany scared that David's going to get stop-lossed once he's deployed. Note to Self: No more war movies with significant others or members of the military. I felt bad, it really messed with her head. It's gotta suck being a military spouse.

On Sunday, April 6, I gave a lecture during middle hour, about being a good witness. Pretty difficult topic to teach, considering I've never been that successful, that I know of. (Witnessing, that is; sharing Jesus with people...proselytizing.)

The first week of classes was rather boring, although it did make the quarter look like it's going to be challenging. I managed to say the wrong thing a couple times at my new job already. Note to self: I am going to need some remedial training in distinguishing how to talk to different races. I am just not used to treating people differently depending on their skin color. To me it seems backwards, but if it makes people feel respected that I acknowledge that they look different, then I guess it's worthwhile. I am so post-race in my Silicon Valley mindset, it's really odd to think in terms of tiptoeing around potentially racially charged situations.

Thursday, April 10, I had an unusual day in that about five times in one day (which is about five times more than usual) some random but very cute girl made eyes at me or flirted with me in some overt way. Must have been wearing the right clothing or something.

Saturday, April 12, I spent the morning at a conference for church elders and "interested men" in San Leandro, at Fairhaven Bible Chapel. It was hot and I got a free book and some homemade salsa, and talked with an inspiring church elder from San Diego. Note to self: I like driving to San Leandro. Perfect driving distance. Long enough to think or talk something through. Saw the Fairhaven guys. They're awesome dudes.


Larger Map

My Aunt Karin and cousin Kim came into town for the day, so we saw them over pizza and beers in the evening. They're visiting California from Alabama, where they live now. Also saw most of the other cousins including Jessi, Adam and Ange, and even Josh. I talked to cousin Chris on the phone, so if only I'd talked with TJ that would have been all the Ballard-side cousins in one shot.


Sunday, April 13, I saw Run, Fat Boy, Run with Trent, Peter and Brett. Was a pretty good flick. Brett didn't not like it, Pete liked it alright, Trent was disappointed that it wasn't a Hot Fuzz paced comedy. I liked a lot of things about it, especially his rock band tee shirts. That's an old Siouxsie & The Banshees tee in the pic, people, which is instant cred in my book.

St. John, Halo, St. Paul, & the readvent de las chicas

Friday night I taught the college group. We went through John 19:1-16, which is the second half of the account of Jesus' interaction, during his trial, with Roman proconsul Pilate. We talked about how not to end up like the Jews, who waited for a Messiah and then missed Him because they were pissed off, or like Pilate, who didn't choose Christ for fear of personal loss. It was good.

Saturday, in a rare display, the fellows from Grace Bible Chapel and Hillview Bible Chapel got together and played Halo. All day.

Sunday morning, I taught from II Corinthians 2:17 and 3:1-3, discussing how to be an authentic Christian. We decided that unless Christ personally has his hand in it, having a good attitude or good actions are never going to lend us the authenticity we need. If your Christianity is someone else's recommendation letter, and you're just the paper, and God's both the author and the ink, then the more interaction with him, the better.

At noon the girls came back from Mexico. They built a house there. They were all covered in paint, and scrapes from a lathe they had been using. They were complaining of getting insulation all over themselves. I could relate. Last night some of the crowd from Fairhaven (San Leandro) came down to San Jose to play soccer and hang out at my place. It was a blast.

Chewing the Homework Cud

I really don't like checking my email in the community college library. Even if it is for school. It's just sortof... naked. What makes it worse is I forgot to email myself my re-done Spanish 4 assignment. And I have 15 minutes till class. So I cannot re-chew this stuff again right now. I am an educational cow. I can't chew and swallow just once. I have to do it a couple times.

Last night I went up to the east bay. San Leandro, to be precise. I went up to see my friends from Summit this year and last year. Since they are cool guys, it was a good time. I also found out their church, Fairhaven Bible Chapel, has their breaking of bread service every Sunday night instead of Sunday morning. They teasingly say they're more correct since it's the Lord's "Supper." The perk was, one Sunday, two BOB services. And the Spirit was there, so it was good. Go read Psalm 116-118, Revelation 19:7-10, and Luke 22:14-20. If you wanna know what I got out of all that, ask me later.

Additional note: Baker's Square's "4 Alarm Burger" seems tame till it hits your stomach. The heat was mild, but the indigestion was horrible.