morethan42

Why I Procrastinate

2007-06-26T21:18:00.001-04:00

Too Old For These Tees

2007-06-22T20:49:00.000-04:00

It was a moment that I had not expected. Moments come up on you so very fast that you sometimes forget that life is but a series of moments, each one carrying us to the next. It can become like a well-oiled machine. You predict so many of the moments, and they happen so fast and in order and the right way that things should, that you barely notice them going by.
But this is a moment that I remember, well the exact moment that it happened.

Back story....
I love puns. Really I do. I once sent in a list of ten puns to a joke contest hoping to take the prize, that maybe one of my puns would win! I did have ten in after all, the chances were good that one of them would win! But sadly, no pun in ten did.

I'll give the rest of you a chance to read that again....I'll wait for you in the next paragraph.

Anyone who knows me has probably seen me in one of my various Joke shirts. I've got my favourites, and some that I just have. What a Joke-Tee is a shirt that has writing on it, telling a joke perhaps, or funny picture.

Example: In Sink With Nature - with a picture of a guy in kitchen sink with a squirrel. If you say squirrel like Verucca Salt in Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, this sounds a lot funnier.

You've all seen my Atari shirt, my More Cowbell, my pink shirt that says "Keep Laughing, this is your girlfriends shirt"....which is funny for two reasons, because my father in law is the one who gave it to me. I've got a shirt that says "How do you keep an idiot busy? See other side" on both sides. An "I'm with Stupid" and an arrow pointing up shirt.

And then there's what I still think of as my holy grail of Joke-Tees.....Save The Humans.

A big cartoon of a whale, and a speech bubble saying "Save The Humans".

So there you go, I love them. I really do, I think they're fun.

And then the moment happened.

Saturday afternoon, date day with Angela. Consisted of shopping & Starbucks. Not even really being too aware of it, I grabbed a Joke-Tee. This one being my Atari shirt. Just the logo here, no real joke, but I guess "vintage" shirts I kind of classify in the same category.

At some point, I glanced myself in the mirror, and I saw myself wearing the shirt.

And then I thought....I'm 27.

Twenty-Seven. I'm almost thirty. And then I further thought....I've got six months to go before I'm safely out of the "Forever Twenty-Seven" club. For those of you who don't know, the "Forever Twenty-Seven" club is made up of famous people who all died when they were twenty-seven. Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, James Dean, Brian Jones, Jim Morrison.

And it hit me. They all died at twenty seven...if I'm at an age where I could in fact die...yes I know that could happen at any age, but whatever...then I could be towards the end of my life. And I'm wearing these Joke-Tees?

Then there was the moment....do I have to grow up now? Am I too old for these Tee's? Should I be wearing golf-shirts to match my mini-van? Do I have to get serious now?
Again, anyone who knows me will know that I will never "grow up". Life is fun for me, it really is. But there was a few hours where I genuinely felt too old for those t-shirts. Too old for some of the things I do for fun....video games, air guitar, playing music ridiculously loud, watching Disney movies, listening to Adventures In Odyssey over and over again, reading Harry Potter, and going out to buy a shirt that says "Wyld Stallyns". I need to go buy the Volvo, trade in for some C.S. Lewis (no not those sissy lion stories) and complain about both the volume of the music and how the quality was so much better back in my day.

There's no real resolution here. It was only a few hours long, but I don't think I'll ever be too old for those shirts. As Angela said, that's what I do. It's part of who I am. If I were to do those thigs...Volvo, complaining about stuff, being way too serious for my own good, then I really think that people would think that there is something wrong...something very wrong.

Too old to wear these Tee's?

Save The Humans

BONUS....for those who still didn't get it, "no pun in ten did"...."no pun intended"

Back to the beginning...

2007-02-05T23:33:00.000-05:00

Do you remember when being a Christian was exciting?
When it was just overwhelming at times, the new feeling of it all.
If you aren't a Christian and you're reading this, perhaps I can explain....perhaps not, but I'll try. As near as I can explain it, becoming a Christian is like finally realising what has been missing in your life this whole time, that that hole in your life (the God-shaped hole as it has often been called) is finally full & taken care of. The world seems fresh to you, you see everything and everyone differently. Your perspective on what you do, read, watch, think and say changes. You feel....alive, as if you're taking the very first precious breath of air that you've ever taken. That it's the sunrise of the first day of your life, and that the world is stretched out before you, and everything is possible.
Now, during that early stage of my "new life", I became quite zealous in my belief. It meant so much to me, it felt real. It still does, but it was a different kind of real. I felt connected to my saviour & Lord. It was during this time that I was quite unaware of how I was ostracizing others. My fervour and passion for living the Christian life left me in a place where I shunned the world....and everyone in it, including the ones I loved.
But I digress, I'm heading down a different road that I don't want to go down. It was a great time, but the passion, though true and heart-felt, was perhaps misplaced. I was called to love the Lord my God, which I did, but also to love my neighbour as myself. That part I perhaps didn't make good on.

Part of why I'm writing this, is I'm wondering if there's a way to balance the two. Can I get back to that passion for God, now that I've become somewhat cynical about typical Christian behaviour. How we treat others speaks volumes about how our faith is. So if we show our love greatly to others, that should reflect how much we love our God right? But can I have those Abba Father moments when I used to sing praises and felt such closeness? When I didn't care about what others felt? How can I enjoy that closeness now? Where can I meet God now that I feel unfed in the church? It's hard, really hard. It wasn't always hard. The newfound love of being a new Christian is what I want, but I want the wisdom I now have to practice it. Am I too far gone to go back? It's like comparing childhood to adulthood. The wonder and trust in a child's eyes, with the wisdom and knowledge and practicallity of age.

Can I get there?

I hope so.

The Brick Testament

2007-02-04T16:28:00.000-05:00

Check this out folks.

Something I came accross thanks to my friends @ Etcetera. My wife picked me up a copy of their book Stories From Genesis and I noticed an interesting picture in there! Pertains to the flood story, and just see if you can see something interesting in there

Cheers

What If...

2007-01-25T02:45:00.000-05:00

What if you didn't go to work today?
What if you slept in?
What if you didn't shower & get ready?
What if the day went by without you?
What if no one noticed?
What if you didn't notice?
What if you felt sick?
What if you were sick?
What if you weren't?
What if you went to the doctor?
What if you didn't?
What if he told you you had six months to live?
What if you didn't know that?
What if you did something about it?
What if you couldn't?
What if you tried anyways?
What if you just gave up?
What if you changed everything, and still didn't live?
What if you changed everything and did live?
What if you fixed all your bad relationships?
What if you left them as they were?
What if you said you were sorry more?
What if you said "I love you" more?
What if you meant it?
What if the grass didn't get cut today?
What if you played with the kids instead?
What if you went for a picnic?
What if you kissed your wife with no expectations?
What if just held hands?
What if you just gave her a hug?
What if "the guys" found out?
What if mattered?
What if for once you did something for someone else?
What if it made a difference for them?
What if what you did was just what they needed?
What if you never found out?
What if you hadn't said it?
What if you hadn't done it?
What if you'd left it all alone?
What if you'd waited for someone else to do it?
What if you stayed in bed?
What if you didn't wake up?

What if you didn't wake up?
What if you didn't...wake...up?
What if...
What if...
What if...

What would you do?

Is That You Jesus?

2006-12-21T10:54:00.000-05:00

I was in the hustle & bustle of the Christmas season, waiting in line for a red light. More specifically the green light....even the traffic signals are festive. Christmas tunes have been playing in my car since November 28th. The Christmas season for me began on the 28th at 6:18pm when 'Do They Know It's Christmas?' came on the radio....that's my offical start each year. I make a big deal to wish people 'Merry Christmas' not season's greetings, or happy holidays, or even Ramahaunakwanzmas to be sure that I definitely do not offend. It's a very special time of year for me. I do believe that the emphasis of Christmas and what Christ did for us is being lost. It's sad I know, and we're all responsible. We focus on his birth, but not on his death and why he was born to begin with.
So the soap box is laid, the declarations are made, and the music is played. Why then would I turn my eye the other way when a man walked by my car at that red light with a sign that said 'Please. On the street. Have nothing. Anything will help.'
Why did I choose at that moment to check for something in my glove box. I saw him, he saw me. He knows I saw him. My window is slightly open due to our uncharacteristically warm temperatures, and the Christmas songs about spreading love and cheer are booming from the radio. Not the typical music you'd hear from a 26 year old males car, so it'd be the one fellow who'd roll down his window and give some change. I keep change in my car regularly. Sometimes I just want a Starbucks for crying out loud. I knew it was there. I was saving it. A toonie stared up at me. Two bucks. I was saving it though....I wanted a coke at school tomorrow...that's a buck seventy five. If I gave homeless Joe the toonie, I'd have to break a fiver to get a drink.
I knew it was wrong.
He passed my car. In the rear-view mirror, I saw a hand reach out the window and hand him some change.
My heart dropped.
The radio sang on....'...from now on our troubles will be out of sight.'
That wasn't the song. I don't remember the song....but I remember the drop in my gut.
Was that you Jesus?
Were you hungry?
Were you naked?
Were you thirst?
Did I feed you? Clothe you? Offer you a drink?

I went out later, but Jesus was gone.
I couldn't find him to give him a drink.
I'm sorry Jesus...
I'm sorry.

Just A Link Folks

2006-08-19T21:07:00.000-04:00

Just a link for my photo guys, nothing too fancy

The Carpenter

2006-06-14T05:55:00.000-04:00

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer/contractor of his plans to leave the house-building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife, enjoying his extended family. He would miss his paycheque, but he needed to retire. They could get by.
The contractore was sorry to see his good worker go, and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favour. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials.
It was an unfortunate way to end his career. When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front door key to the carpenter.
"This is your house," he said, "My give to you."
What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none to well.
So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way reacting rather than acting, willing to put up with less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock, we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized that, we would have done it differently.
Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall, build wisely.
It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live if for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity.
The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Who could say it more clearly?
Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past. Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.

Konfessions Of A Kristian

2006-06-12T20:18:00.000-04:00

Kleedis, I thank-you. A swift kick in the bum may indeed be what I needed.

I have indeed fell short on my promise to blog. I believe at the time I was simply following the trend. Often times, I feel the need to blog about something, but don't know what or what words to use. I read other blogs often, and do indeed enjoy them. I don't see them as fluff or a waste of time. But I find myself dwarved by other people's articulation, and the grandeur of their ideas...I feel like the little stonhenge in Spinal Tap...I just don't measure up, and feel the dwarves dancing around me!

So what do I have to blog? Well, I've got something....

It has been on my mind of late that I'm a recovering-self-righteous Christian....a Kristian if you would. The authenticity wasn't always there, or if it was, sometimes the motivation or reaction was wrong. I looked down on others....to borrow a quote from 'Firefly' "I only feel better than those people I'm better than."

So on to confession. My original e-mail address was drummer4christ95@hotmail.com
I felt that my e-mail address should reflect my faith, and be a witness to everyone who sent or recieved something from me. My music collection wasn't just Christian music....I had some Praise & Worship too. Cursing is not allowed, smoking and drinking send you to hell in a hand-basket. I did things and said things that were hurtful, condemning, and prententious....all in the name of Christ. My faith was built on presentation, and how others presented themselves....God saw what I did, not my motivations or what was in my heart.....What silly things we did as new Christians....silly, cheesy things....

But what passion! I was so in love with God. That was real. My worship was real. My prayers were earnest, I wanted to please and to be loved and love back. I wanted to serve....my intentions were great.

I had confession to my older brother about some of the things I've done...in the name of being a Christian...he was unfortunately at the recieving end of some of my self-righteousness.....how cleansing, how freeing! How HEALING! We're closer now than ever!

Can we get back to that? The passion of the new convert, and the wisdom of the old saint? Do they co-exist, and if so, what does that look like? Am I getting there?

This last Saturday my brother got married and he said something during his speech that brought me to tears....he said I was living the best example of a Christian life he could think of. Wow....Wow... Did I try to put that forth? No....I've thrown off appearances in favour of transparency.

So here's the challenge.....what's your Konfession? What kind of silly things have you done...in the name of Christ....Christian Rhetoric, blah blah blah, Cheesy Kristian things people, that's what we're ashamed of, but they make for good reading!

Operation Maple Dip

2006-03-27T05:40:00.000-05:00

Last week I was able to join Erik, Sharon and Matt Porter for Etcetera. I had a blast as my fellow Canadians called in and joined me in Operation Maple Dip. The show was a blast, and the Fred was even better. Thanks to all who called, and to Erik, Sharon, and Matt, thank-you for it all. I'll be back!

Drugstore jesus

2006-03-07T21:20:00.000-05:00

Drugstore jesus
by Plumb

Take the blame for saving lives
You've got the sunset in your eyes

And you've got the glory on your mind
Your good intentions are hard to find

You're drugstore jesus
The miracle is gone
You're drugstore jesus
A saint for everyone
You've thrown your soul away

All your gold turns to dust
And all your masses lose your trust

This grand illusion, this planned confusion
This substitution is tainted love

In a world turned upside down
Can the truth be turned around?
In a world turned upside down
Can the truth be turned around?

You're drugstore jesus
The miracle is gone
You're drugstore jesus
A saint for everyone
But the world goes on

5 am alarm clock rings and you get up.
Navigating the stairs is no problem because you do it every morning.
Coffee's already on, the miracle of timer.
The cat needs food, heaven forbid he could use some of his reserve.

That's how each of my morning starts. Day after day after day. It can get monotonous. However, there's always the opportunity to spend a few minutes doing some personal devotions. Do I always do this? No. Trying to read through the Bible in a year though, it's coming back. But to get back to the point.

The above song is a song I think that we should all listen to. Scroll back up and read the words again.

Look I'm not deep. Well, I am but I'm not poetic.
But I was driving home tonight, and that song came on my iPod, and it almost brought tears to my eyes.

We are that song. We use a drugstore jesus.
When push comes to shove, we dig in with our heels and give it our all.
We fall, we fail, we feel.
Then we reach out to jesus and ask for help.
he can help us now because he said so.
Help us now and we'll thank him tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes, and we're back on top, and we move on.

Another crisis comes up, and we pop another pill.
Another day, week, month, maybe year between hits.

we pop jesus, use him, and then put him back in the pill-box, back on the shelf, fold up our Bible and put it away. When we have another headache, heartache, soulache, we take another.

We insult him, and misuse him.
I point the finger here a lot, but I also look inside myself.
I use jesus a lot when I should have used Jesus earlier.

Notice the lower-case, I think it's important.

Somehow, we have to figure out how to manage our pain, and take the prescription when we should and in proper doses. As prescribed.

As I said, I'm not poetic, and if you hear me, I thank-you

Conditional Love

2006-03-03T05:44:00.000-05:00

About six years ago, I was at the ATM machine topping up my wallet for a fun-filled evening of merryment. As I was exiting the bank, a man in his mid-late thirties approached me and asked me if I had five bucks to spare. I did, so I gave it to him. A sense of servitude and satisfaction came over me. It was great.
The next day, I again had to swing by the ATM, and as I did, I passed a variety store where outside, leaning against the window not unlike Jay & Silent Bob, was this fellow, taking a long drag on a cigarette. Huh, I thought to myself....is that how he spent my money?
Yet a third trip to the ATM a few days later was upon me, and once again, as I left, this very same fellow approached and asked again for five bucks. Well this time would be different.
"What for?"
"The Bus."
"You mean you're not going to take it and buy cigarettes?"
"No."
"All right. Here."
After all, I was a Christian and this man was Jesus to me. I was serving him.

I did see him smoking again. He's never asked me for money again, mostly because I've never bumped into him again. However, I'm sure that if he did see me, he'd ask again.

Somewhere along the way, I got lost.
We got lost.
Serving Jesus should not have strings attached.
We'll help you as long as you act accordingly.
We'll feed the homeless, as long as they listen to a message.
We'll take in a boarder, as long as they come to church with us.
We'll give you five bucks, as long as you don't use it for smokes.

When did His money, become Our money?

When will we cut the strings of our generosity, and simply have the freedom to give.
And be free to be Jesus.

Who I Am...And How I Got Here...Part I

2006-02-24T17:41:00.000-05:00

Back in my fundamentalist days, there was a very clean cut line between my Christian faith and everything else. If it didn't verbally, visually, or aurally support God outright, then it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Self rightousness is a wonderful thing, until you recognize it for what it is. As I write this, I'm sucking down a Mike's Hard Lemonade, rocking out to the Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack...on vinyl for you audiophiles. So how did I get here? I don't know....somewhere on this blog as it goes, that may become apparent....I think that's my purpose of it. It's called 'More Than 42' and I guess I could explain that....you see I'm a big fan of 'The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy' in all its formats....radio show, BBC TV show, film, books and any reference to 42. In the books, which I now read twice a year,

Let's Do The Time Warp Again!

sorry, musical interlude

about halfway through the first book, they've built a super computer called Deep Thought

Let's Do The Time Warp Again!
Let's Do The Time Warp Again!

sorry....kinda a fitting song here though :)

which is given the task to find out the ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything. It takes 7.5 million years, but eventually comes up with the answer....42. So the rest of the series (5 books) they try to find the answer. I find that a great spin on traditional story-telling....here's the answer, get the question...kinda like existential Jeopardy. But my thoughts were that there must be 'More Than 42'. They conclude that the answer and the question may not exist in the same spacial universe, since that would create a time paradox that would make Dr. Brown gladly try to handle the thought of generating 1.21 jiggawatts. They'd simply cancel each other out. I thought how is that like, or unlike my faith? As a Christian, I think I have both the question and the answer, but I'm not sure how to convey that, but it occurs to me that whatever it is, it's not as simple as 42. Sorry Mr. Adams.

Humbled By The Gas Lord

2006-02-16T21:47:00.000-05:00

Going out to get gas the other night (it was cheap) I found myself humbled by the gas-lord's. Gas has been wavering at the 93-98 cent mark for the last six months or so....that's Canadian folks, so that's per litre. During a freak period of about a week the price shot up to $1.35 / litre....do the math folks...for men it's easy. Ever wonder how to convert? Check a Urinal next time your...well you know. 1 Gal = 3.8 L ...that's about $4.30 U.S.....but it came back down. Then the other day, the heaven's parted. A sign from above....there is grace and reprive....the price dropped....steadilly into the 80's...usually not a place you want to find yourself what with the scrunchies and all....though the movies were fab....and then when we thought we'd reach the glass bottom....remember, we're going down folks....it dropped to 77 cents! I swear I heard Handel...but then I realised I was hearing Handel, and it was on the Steve Brown Etc. archive I was listening to. This called for celebration! This called for wine, cigars, confetti, hugs and kisses all around! This also called for a trip to the gas station. My wife, no word of a lie (at least not mine...she's the one who told me, I'm just repeating) saw a guy filling jerry-can after jerry-can, putting them in his car, passing the $500 dollar mark (redundant to write both '$' and 'dollar' dontcha think?). It was anarchy! Well, not really...though there was a wait for the pump. Which brings me full circle to my original point. As I was pulling in to position, I remarked to my sister-in-law, who was with me, that the car in front was pulling in, seemingly unaware that their tank was on the opposite side. I enjoyed an out-loucd chuckle. Not a full on laugh mind you, but a full-chested chuckle. The kind you get when you've seen a great movie many many times, and you know it's coming, so the laughter has built up much before the joke, so that when you release it, it takes several good hearty laughs to release. That kind. As I parked my car, the fool in front realised her mistake (yes, it was a woman driver, but I make no joke because I thought it was a guy) and turned around. My sister-in-law Heather, blunt she can be, told me that wasn't nice. Deep down I knew she was right, but it was funny. I dont' know why I found it so, but it was. So I get out, approach the pump, and with pleasure press the button for 77.3 cents a litre ($2.93.74 hosers...or $2.52.93 yanks) and begin to pump. At least that's what I imagined. Selecting my fuel grade came no problem....where the problem came was when I tried to perform the petroleum exchange. I had parked 3 inches too far away! What shame! What horror! What...karma? I don't believe in it, but I do believe that God can humble us and put us in our places sometimes. Was this a moral lesson? No....I think it's just God's sense of humour. And I'm sure as I approached that pump, he felt the laughter building up. Like a movie he'd seen many many times, and knew it was coming, he saw me approach the pump, laugh at the girl, park the car, get warned by Heather, only to get out, and in slow motion, make a fool of myself. And then he burst out laughing, gave Gabriel and Michael an elbow to the gut while they watch and eat Lay's and Dr Pepper. I figure he got out about four or five good chest laughs before the laugh-track faded, and we went to commercial for a word from our sponsor

Right!

2006-01-12T06:01:00.000-05:00

A few days behind already! Ah well. Much has developed! But first a correction from last entry.

Okay, it took us 62 verses to screw it up...and I thought the rest was God sorting it out. Turns out, he had it all done in 9 verses. Three verse 15 has the first prediction and glimpse of the salvation plan. Then it's 31,196 verses of God going "okay, this is how it'll happen."

Now, several generations have come and gone, and lo and behold, the Earth sucks and God says 'that's it, I'll kill them all!'....that's the 'New Living Language Version'...publishing pending.
Then along comes Noah. What was he doing that was so special that God liked him, and said 'he'll do'? Two people, in ten generations. Now one out of five is okay I guess, but we're talking Generations here! You know, 'had other sons and daughters'? Speaking of, who the heck did Cain marry? Was there some sort of God-approved....incest? Just to get the human race started? What did we get like, 300 years of mutant-free breeding just as a kick-start? Also of notable interest, something I figured out on one of my many read-throughs of Genesis, none of which went on to become the full Bible-read that I thought. Do the Math, and you'll see that Methuselah, oldest man ever at 969, Noah's Grandfather....died the same year as the flood. Woops.
I'd like to talk to Enoch. He had it right. Says he "walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him away." What was it like not to die?
So we have Noah....I won't do too much to talk about him, because I think Bill Cosby said it right. "Who's there?" , "It's the Lord, Noah!" , "....Right!"

Srewed Up In Just 62 Verses

2006-01-09T19:20:00.000-05:00

What the heck happened?

Okay, so I’m starting to read the Bible i n a year. I’m not going to buy one of them ‘Read A Bible In A Year’ bits, because I’ve got a New King James, three NIV, a pocket New Testament, the Gideons, a ‘For Couples’ Bible, and a “paraphrase” version with some guys name on it, so I’ll go with the Serendipity version....that’s the one that follows me to church usually. I did the math, and there are 1744 pages in my Bible, and Genesis starts on pg 51. When you do the math, that works out to 4.6 pages a day. In case you didn’t notice, it’s January 9th. That puts me a few days behind, and I’m sure I’ll miss a few, so I’m aiming high and going for six a day. Starting this morning. The only rule is that I won’t finish in the middle of a chapter....finish the chapter. Well today, that ended me up to Chapter Three of Genesis. I’ve read them many times. 31240 verses in the Bible, it takes us 62 to screw it up. The other 31178 are God fixing it. So there we were, enjoying God’s grace and presence, Him actually walking with us, and we threw it away. But that’s okay, because he fixed it. We screw up...he fixes it (forgive the lowercase ‘h’...too lazy right now)....we rebel, he waits....we damage...he heals....we fall...he picks us up....he dies....we live....what is that about? What kind of God creates a wonderful masterpiece, and then invites a savage to hang out that he knows will screw it up. He was willing to risk it all, literally, just to hang out with us. That’s the kind of creator I want. That’s the kind of God, I want to know. But I still screw it up...but that’s okay.

Why aren't Christian's nice?

2005-10-06T21:55:00.000-04:00

So I’m working away, digging a hole, grouting the block-work, sweeping the floors, basically doing anything but carpenter’s work. I’m now an apprentice carpenter, but the job duties remain the same. But I will NOT become one of those people who hate their job! I really enjoy it....really....bitter is fun :) But really, I do lik e it. Anyways, I’m working away. Lets just leave it at that. The task doesn’t matter, but the fact that I am working is important. And this is not specific to a certain conversation. I’ve had it many times, and the flow has been the same every time. Being in construction, I’m used to many many things. Give me any curse-word and I can tell you several synonym’s, all the proper and im-proper uses, and how to get the best use out of it. You need a funny / dirty joke? I can hook you up. So when the topic of religion comes up, it’s always fun. And people generally assume that I’m religious. Matt doesn’t curse? Matt doesn’t talk about sex? Does he go to church? It’s usually “out” within a few hours of the first day on the job-site. I show up, and if I’m the only one there, it can go a bit longer, but should someone from my company be there, I’m “outted” before lunch. And often the conversations approach. Are you a Christian? Do you go to church? Are you married? Do you swear / drink / smoke / get high ? And often they’ve got stories about other Christians that they’ve worked with. It happened that the other day, a plumber commented that “...I can’t stand born-againers...” to which I commented “I’m a born-again.” and he said “Really?” How am I different that they find that unbelievable? I drop the occasional curse...mild and PG-13 of course (and we all know that Christian’s don’t swear)...a laugh at a joke comes out every now and again....and I don’t hand out Bible-tracts. So inevitiablly it comes out that on the whole, in their opinion, the Christians they’ve met aren’t nice....they’re not nice. That struck me as sad. Christians? Not Nice? Whole? Why do people have this premonition that Christian’s aren’t nice? It occurs to me that Christians should be the nicest people? We should be the epitome (that’s 25 points in Scrabble) of nice-ness. But the Christians that many of my fellow construction workers seem to live up to the bumper sticker....”Jesus love you....everyone else thinks you’re an asshole.”
But why are we assholes? Why aren’t the Christians the ones that everyone raves about? Why aren’t we the ones people want to be like? Yet we end up the brunt of the jokes, the ones to avoid, the Bible-thumpers, anti-social, hypocritical, all in the name of being like Christ. There is something to be said about the nature of man, and being against Christ by nature, but a whole other side of it is that we are indeed sometimes assholes...that’s three now isn’t it? Have I renounced my faith yet? All to quickly, we put up our Christian shield everytime we meet someone new. We dont’ want them to taint us. We spend more time protecting ourselves than we do being real. We’re not real, and people see right through that. We segregate ourselves. The religious one is always the one who’s off in the corner, sitting on his own, reading his Bible. Believe me, I’ve been that person....I’ve been on the pulpit, looking down on them. I’ve done that, been a hypocrite...watching my language at work, but not at home. Feeling safer here, that somehow because no one hears it that it’s okay. What a load of crap! I don’t know when it hit me, but somewhere it occurred to me to stop worrying about stuff like that, and start worrying about stuff like why are Christians standing outside abortion clinics waving posters of aborted babies, and telling women coming out that they’re going to Hell? Why aren’t we surrounding them with the love that the lack of which has driven them there in the first place? There are people dying to have children but can’t. How many times have Pastors prayed for women who are barren? Why aren’t they putting two and two together, get to know these girls who can’t bear the responsibilty of parenting and solve two problems? I realise that it’s easier to write than to put in to practice, but do you see what I mean? Why do we point the finger at others? Why do we tell gays and lesbians that they’re going to hell instead of simply getting to know them? Tell me this, where in the Bible does it say that practicing homosexuality is worse in the eyes of God than gossiping about the Pastor’s son? Where? I think it’s in Hezekiah somewhere...if not there, check out Hesitations. Does my point get somewhere? Why aren’t we living the life Christ would have us live? Where did it go wrong? I’m not perfect either. Each day is different. Sometimes I let the guys down, sometimes I let Christ down. It sucks. I don’t know the answer to any of these questions. How do we convey Christ’s love without watering it down? How do we live authentic Christian lives and, forgive the wording, have fun at the same time? I don’t know. But I do know that in some small way, I agree with the plumber....sometimes, I just hate “born-againers.”

Wooopsie!

2005-10-04T22:56:00.000-04:00

Hey All

To my fellow listeners of Etcetera, and I know there's a lot of us...I'd like to get the ball rolling on the "Buy Sharon A Mac" campaign. I have a link on the right-hand side of my blog, and all you have to do is click on it, and it will take you to a page that has further instructions. She needs your help, she has suffered long enough.

Won't you click on the link
Send in your check
Prayer-lines are open

Hymn's, Bleach, And A Crashed Car

2005-10-04T22:30:00.000-04:00

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Fridays, Saturday('s alright *)

The days go by. Days become weeks, and weeks become months. Is this how the passing through this life is supposed to go? Each passing day, adding up to seven, making one weak? No that's not a spelling error. Sometimes we do feel weak don't we? We're supposed to grow stronger, yet we don't. We look to God to get us out of whatever sin / rutt / hole / relationship / job / home / city / country / life that we may be in. We get out occasionally, but then we fall back in. And then we get out...and then back in. Life feels like a dirty t-shirt sometimes. Each time it gets dirty, we take it to the Washer/Dryer and it's like new again. A little less white, but it's there again. Ready to wear, show off...and inevitably get dirty again. Church is like that isn't it? We get dirty Monday, or maybe not until Thursday, perhaps even up until Saturday night, and then we come to Church, sit for the 45 min spin cylcle, or perhaps we need to bleach the stain by raising our hand, talking to the Pastor, or listening oh so intently to the chorus with our pious eyes closed. And then, we walk out the door, and head right back to the muddy field. Getting our newly cleaned shirt dirty again. Some of our shirts are hand-washed, and have to be handled in a slighty different manner. The really special attire is dry-clean only, and if misshandled, won't fit us once it's done.

Is that all God is to us? The laundermat? We come in once a week, bring our detergent, or maybe get it there, read a magazine / bulliten (proper spelling?), or my favourite, the hymnal (...really), do the crossword/fill in the notes, and then once it's done, our Bible/detergent goes back on the shelf, and our shirt/life goes back out there and gets stained again. Where does it go wrong? When do we make the error? The simple answer seems to be stay away from the mud, and the things that will make it dirty. But is that the only answer? I dont' think so, but I also know that I don't have the answer. I'm still looking. But one thing I do know, and this I hold to....it does all come out in the wash....you just need to be washed the right way.

* - if you get that joke, you're cool.

A Moment In My Life...Long, But Worth It....?

2005-09-29T21:30:00.000-04:00

Do I start with the details or the emotions? It’s tough to say. The details are simple, the emotions are not. My wife and I were going to U2 in Vancouver as part of our anniversary trip out there this past year. I traded away general admission tickets with a fellow fan, for two seats so that we wouldn’t have to stand outside for hours, and then inside for several more hours. I did this for my wife as a surprise. The trade was set up, and arranged, and held by word between two U2 fans. Then a wrech was thrown into the plans. My wife changed to a better job which unfortunately cancelled our trip...at least for the both of us. I went with a friend instead, and was presented with the dilemna...do I keep the general admission tickets and get on the floor, possibly front row? Or do I honour the trade, and watch the show from the second-to-last row? If I were to back out, I’d risk the chance of “blacklisting” amongst U2 fans....possible trading in the future would be in jeopardy. The thing which convinced me was that my fellow fan was bringing her twelve year old daughter to the concert, and that it would be their first U2 concert each. They deserved to be front row. The needed it. I was fortunate enough to be in Vancouver when U2 shot the video for “City Of Blinding Lights” and spent the day with them. We stood in line for nearly five hours, talking about life, U2, work, school, and more U2. After the shoot, we traded tickets, and wished each other luck. The next day (of the concert) came, and I arrived shortly after the opening act (Kings of Leon). I was able to find them amongst the throng of fans on the floor using binoculars. They were front row, on Adams side, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled for them. At least until U2 played ‘One’. My friend had mentioned to me that they were going to be wearing shirts that said “One” on the front and “makepovertyhistory.org” on the back. Apparently this got Bono’s attention because he pulled her daughter and three other girls on stage for “One” and they stayed the for the duration of the song. As any die-hard will tell you, this is their dream. Myself included. Those were my tickets right? I could have been there right? That could have been me! Right?! No. It was her moment. She had earned it. She paid for her own flight and concert ticket. And none of these thoughts entered my mind. Few words could describe my joy for her in that moment. It was...spiritual. In a way, I felt I was up there with her.
Well, they say that what goes around, comes around. Call it what you want; karma, good-vibes, one good turn deserves another, or any sort of “do unto others” moniker that you can think of, I call it a blessing from above. I’ve been a U2 fan for ten years, and I’ve been fortunate enough to see them eight times now. Before U2, I didn’t even listen to music, and they became a doorway through which I was exposed and listened to more and more music. As a musician they have influenced my style, rhythm, and desire for solid lyrical content. Was one concert per tour enough? Certainly not! I was blessed with the chance to see them play live in their hometown of Dublin, Ireland. The ultimate concert. What’s better than U2 coming to your town? Going to U2’s town of course. That’s what I did. A friend had a ticket to the show, and having resolved that he couldn’t possibly go, offered me the ticket. All I needed to do was find my concert lighter, make my sign for Bono, and wait for the day to arrive. The concert was at Croke Park, holding nearly 90,000 people. It was on June 25th, gates opening at 4:00pm, and I arrived into the country at 12:10pm. Customs barely slowed me down, a taxi-cab, check in to a b&b, changed my clothes, grabbed my sign and camera, and a bus-ride later, I’m waiting outside Croke Park, in Dublin, the hometown of my band, chatting with some fellow Canadian’s and getting my t-shirts. What more could you ask for? Front row would be nice. But what are the chances? The gates opened early, at 3:30. As the crowd shuffled in, a thought occurred to me. There are about twenty lines side-by-side, and they’re all going in at once. There aren’t 6,000 people in front of me, just around me. In my line there are only about 300 people. That means, I’ve just got to contend with them really. Another thought hit me. I’m only one person. A group can only go as fast as the slowest person. And I’m a pretty good crowd dodger. The next thing I knew, I was inside, looking at a huge football / soccer stadium, making my way as fast as I can (or rather, as fast as security would let me) toward the front. I arrived, and it was like a light appeared above the rail. It was empty. There was a spot, where I wanted it, on the rail. Is it possible? How did I get there? Pausing only a second the ponder the chances, I quickly claimed it for my own, and began the near six-hour stand waiting for U2 to show up. It’s amazing how you can get to know some people really quickly. To my right was a fellow from Sweden, with whom I joked about Ikea, and to my left the Muldoons - David, Paul, Natasha, and Ursula. Four great people who took care of me, and educated me on Ireland and Croke Park as we waited. Expecting U2 to show up around nine o’clock, I went ecstatic when The Arcade Fire’s “Wake Up” came on the P.A. around 8:40....this I knew was the final song before U2, and all my travelling was worth it. My four heroes walked to the stage, simply waved to the crowd, enjoyed the applause, and hit it right off with Vertigo. During the song, Bono looked up at a passing airplane, commenting on it’s flag advertising ice cream....says Bono “It pays to advertise, sometimes.” As Bono made his way out on the ramp, out came my sign. “I flew from Canada to play “Party Girl”” with a picture of a guitar on it. Childish isn’t it? But as a fan, I knew Bono pulled people up to make this dream come true. It’s an easy song too...three chords, and the truth as U2 fans know. And an easy song to remember should you choke under the pressure. That and having played it recently, I think Bono would have remembered the lyrics. I remember making the sign, choosing bright orange for its visibility, thinking that it’s a fools hope, that I should laugh at myself and put the marker down. But no, I was making a pilgrimage, and wanted to bring all my hopes with me. For my location, the best part was that, being on the rail, I didn’t have to lift the sign up so much as hold it out. And every time Bono came around, I made sure it was visible for him. It was like that for the whole concert, cheering and singing as they’re on the stage, holding my sign and hoping, praying, as they were on the ramp. The concert was more than I could hope for. Several songs that I never thought I would hear live made appearances...’Out Of Control’ ‘ The Electric Co.’ ‘Running To Stand Still’ ‘The Fly’ and ‘Zoo Station’. It was a fans dream. Their hometown, and their best songs. How could it possibly get any better? How about having Bono look at you, read your sign, give the thumbs up and say “You’re my man”? I should think that would top it. Because that’s what happened at the end of “Where The Streets Have No Name”. It was worth it! The fool’s hope had paid off! Bono acknowledged me, and gave his approval. I recall shouting out “I can play it Bono! I can play it!”. How could he have heard me though? Around me, people who’d read the sign were patting me on the back, expressing their disbelief, and the wonderment spread....will I get to play? For the moment, I put that aside to listen to U2’s beautiful ballad “One”, a very special song for this tour, tying in U2’s genius performance of perhaps their greatest song, with the cause for which it now stands, making poverty history. It’s eerie how the song seems to have been written for just that purpose. How could they have known? I got lost in this poetic moment. Thus ended the main set, and the crowd’s cry for more. As the band came out, and blasted through three great tracks from ‘Achtung Baby’, Bono, The Edge and Adam were at the end of the ramp, twenty feet from me for the end of ‘Mysterious Ways’. What a version too! It still gives me goose bumps. Then all at once, the magic began. Bono began to search the crowd. At this point, nearly everyone behind me knew who he was looking for. A surge of hands, including, believe it or not, the security guards, pulled me out as far as they could without going over the rail so I could hold out my sign. Bono’s head turned, the orange sign paid off, and he came over. “Here’s the dude...are you the player?” ‘YES!!!’......”come up.” The same hands that encouraged me, now helped me fly. I still don’t remember anyone touching me. All at once, the spotlight was on me as I was standing face to face with the man who’s music has meant so much to me. What to do?! I hugged him! And he hugged me back. Asking for my sign, he held it up for the crowd to read...”I was saying earlier how it pays to advertise.” The guitar technician, who now knows what is going on, hands me a guitar. We walk up to the main stage. During this walk, the most personal moment happened. I thanked Bono for the music they had written, for what it meant to me, and for making a fool’s hope dream come true. He made deliberate eye contact, and said “you’re welcome” and asked me my name. As we were sorting out the technical difficulties, during which they gave me an acoustic guitar instead, Bono introduced me to the crowd. “This is Matt, he’s from Canada.” Adam and Larry waited in their positions, Adam smiling to himself, giving me a cheerful nod when I waved to him, and Larry giving me the straight-forward look that I eagerly expected. I thanked The Edge for the opportunity, and he smiled and said “What song are we playing?” I told him “Party Girl, but you’ll have to do the solo, because I don’t know it.” Imagine telling The Edge how to do the song!? Once the guitar was working, there was nothing more to do but to play. So I did. Once the crowd recognized the song, they went nuts. It was me and Bono for the entire first verse. The Edge, Adam and Larry came in for the second verse, and after Bono’s scat singing, we were right in to a rocking version of U2’s silliest song! And it was great! Bono beckoned me to the front of the stage, and sang the song with his arm around my shoulder. Pure heaven. As the end of the song came near, Bono told me “You can stop playing...be a rock star pose like, and hold the guitar over your head.” So I did, the crowd cheered, Bono clapped, the song ended, and my dream was complete. I gave the guitar to the technician, had an awkward moment as I shook The Edge’s hand. He tried to give me his guitar pick, while I was simply trying to shake the man’s hand! He finally placed the pick in my hand, and gave me the thumbs up. Adam gave me a smile and a wave, and Larry gave me another trademark nod. Wonderful! Bono then came over, shook my hand, and lead me off stage. The last thing he said to me was “watch the ramp, it’s pretty steep.” I came off the stage, down the ramp, and took in all the cheers. On the way down, I gave the Canadian flag on my shirt a tap, a gesture which other Canadians have since told me meant a lot to them. Climbing back in to the crowd, the same people who helped me up on the stage welcomed me back with open arms, hugs, and cheers. A magical night of meeting people and telling my story again and again, with much more of the same the next day. What more can I say about it? How can I put into words what it meant to me, or how lucky I felt? For a moment, the biggest band in the world put their ego aside when the stage was theirs. Perhaps their greatest tour yet, their hometown show. Where they began. It was theirs for the taking. Their moment, their crowd, their show. And what do they do? They put the spotlight on someone else, for a few minutes. And they make a dream come true for a fan. Was it because I gave a ticket away to a twelve year old girl? Perhaps they’re connected, and perhaps not. I don’t think I’ll ever know, and that’s okay. Much of the moment was a blur. Thanks to many fans, whom I never met, I’ve many pictures and video clips to remember. As much as I need to thank U2 for the experience, I need to thanks the fans for making the experience last much longer. And that’s all I can say to it....Thank-you Bono, thank-you The Edge, thank-you Adam, thank-you ALarry, and to all the U2 fans who make U2 who they are, thank-you.

Advice From Ford Prefect

2005-09-25T21:35:00.000-04:00

"...there's no point in driving yourself mad trying to stop yourself going mad. You might just as well give in and save your sanity for later."
- Ford Prefect

Keeping Up With The Jones'

2005-09-25T21:34:00.000-04:00

So I’m listening to the radio the other day, and this add comes on. It seems that Bob Johnson has just purchased a large-screen tv for a reasonable price, and was able to get it home with limited difficulty, and spent more of the evening setting up his new-found prize than he actually spent watching it. But that’s okay because he got a good deal right? That is what we think, until his neigbour Jeff Jones comes over and tells him that for the same price, he got the tv purchase, the delivery and installation, plus the in-house warrenty, guaranteed to cover more than the manufacturers! Our focus shifts from celebrating Bob and his accomplishments, to pity for the man, sadness and downright shame that we were but moments ago cheering for this weekend warrior! The greener grass on the Jones’ side of the fence has us rushing out to the store, desiring to get out of lugging the screen for ourselves, and wanting to have it “proffessionally” installed. But what of Bob? The “other” guy. I personally feel bad for the guy. I don’t think he was gipped out of a deal. The t.v. got to his house didn’t it? We’re bombarded with competing groups telling us that their deal is better than the other guys!!! The Jeff Jones’ of the world are mocking us! My TV is bigger and better, my car goes faster, my job pays more, and I have the house in the nicer neighbourhood. And have you seen my hummer? Why are we so quick to jump along with these pressures? When did we decide to focus so much one what others have and what we want, that we lose focus on what we’ve been blessed with? We come into the world with clenched fists, and leave with open palms. Our homes and hummers will remain, the property will be sold, the Jones’ will move away, and the T.V. that you bought over-priced is already obsolete by the time you turn it on. So who cares? Certainly not the Jones’. Let them go on ahead. You’re all going to the same destination anyways. Enjoy the walk as much as possible.

Cheers and Win Awards

Matt from Canada

Basic Introductions: Part Two

2005-09-22T22:32:00.000-04:00

Nearly 4 minutes before my first spam! Was it spam? Perhaps it was eggs and spam? Perhaps eggs spam spam spam spam spam spam bacon and spam. Myself? I prefer spam spam spam spam and spam. Have I ever tried spam? No indeed I have not, and do not have any desire to do so. Was the response to my inital post...no not the test people...was it spam, or was it in fact anonymous? The comment read "Your blog is very interesting, check out mine if you have a chance sometime!
I have a credit site/blog. It pretty much covers credit related stuff." and the link took me to a site filled with debt consolodation guidlines. All well and good if I ever need to re-finance my Visa, but not much in the way of a kick off. Was it real? If it was, then I am very interested in what is particularly interesting about 'morethan42' at this point. I haven't added anything that I want to yet....mostly because I don't know how to create menu's! Can I have pages withing pages, a vast library of information available to the droogs who swing by here? Does it matter? Not right now. In the end, I was vailidated, and the computer on the other end thinks I have a very intersting blog! To the computer, I thank-you. To the person who I've inadvertantly insulted by not believing, I apologise!

Rock On, Win awards

Matt from Canada

Basic Introduction: Part One

2005-09-22T21:53:00.000-04:00

One could sit and argue about the value of making a good first impression. There have certainly been instances of bad first impressions. Can I think of any? Or am I just trying to be high-browed and impressive, and indeed trying to make a good impression here?
Of course I am. I can’t think of anything great to back this up, and indeed, I’m really regretting writing what I’m writing now. Why do I have a blog? What could I hope to gain by this? I guess a little back story first. I am Matt From Canada, so Christened by Bono himself. During my formative years, I went from Matthew, to Matt, to Berg (surname), to not being able to see my name written as “Matt”, feeling that it was somehow incomplete, to eventually settling on ‘honey’....but that’s only to my wife. As the years have passed, the high school pressures, the worrying about the ups and downs of “Matthew” versus “Matt”, and having people walk all over me........I’ll hang on a minute while that sinks in......I eventually settled on Matthew. That has changed as I’ve said, to “Matt From Canada”. A further post will follow to that as soon as I get validated for this blog. Which brings me back to where I started. Why a blog? My motivation really came from “Etcetera”. Check out the link and give it a listen....you won’t regret it. It’s become a tradition to listen to the Podcast on Thursdays. The show airs on Wednesday’s live....the other day, I called in live, and one of the first things they asked was “do you have a blog? To which I replied, “Matt from Canada does not have a blog.”, and “Matt from Canada’s talking about himself in the third-person.” Jeff / Geoff....I don’t know which....said “That’s great blog material.” A day later, some crash course in blogging....which I think I failed, and an attempt to appear upper-browed, hoping for the upper class twit of the year award, here’s my first post. Well, second post.

What am I hoping to accomplish? Etcetera issued a challenge...not really but I took it as such....Ping...send out a signal, and see what comes back. Honesty is a policy, a core part of “morethan42”. Has anything been edited? Except for spell-checking, no. Can I even be sure that it’s all set up right? No. I don’t know if people can post, or not. My address is here, and if people can’t post, let me know. What’s going to be here? I HAVE NO IDEA!!! I’m just following others. I’m not a leader here, I’ll probably repeat some stuff and link to a lot of stuff....oh well. I hope I don’t get sued!

Am I still rambling? Is the introduction done? HAVE I MADE A GOOD IMPRESSION?!
I don’t care.....but I really do. Please....validate me....

before I go....I leave two thoughts.

i) Life is more than 42. If you follow, I think you’ll like what I’m going to do. If you don’t, please learn to.

101010

and ii)
Friends don’t let friends listen to Journey

Matt from Canada

Just setting it up folks

2005-09-21T22:50:00.000-04:00

seriously, there's nothing here!