Waking Up to Sunny Days

I’ve always thought that sunny days were like really loud music — you’re totally into it until it’s so loud that you can’t see. I love a sunny day, yet, I don’t own sunglasses. I own squinting eyes. I don’t squint like a normal human being, though. Instead of crunching both eyes as if to say “I am angry at the sun”, I close one eye tightly and leave the other one wide open, as if to say “I tried to wink at the sun and, unfortunately, my eye got stuck closed”.

Lost (name of show) (what I am)

Last night’s episode of LOST was, to say the least, chock full of stuff that needs to be decoded. ABC has positioned its marketing for the show pretty clearly — “The time for questions is over”. This, of course, raises questions. I admit, though, that the show is doing a better job of raising issues and then resolving them within a short amount of time. For example, here is a bit of dialogue (my own paraphrase) from yesterday’s installment:

Hurley: Are you hungry, Jack?
Jack: Sort of. You?
Hurley: I could eat. (Hurley gets up and looks for food)

Did you see that? We no longer have to wonder if Hurley is hungry — we are instantly aware of the situation and its response.
Someone might say that we never need wonder if Hurley is hungry, and someone might be absolutely right. Someone might also say that about me, and, again, they would be right.

I read this article today which contains spoilers-a-plenty in its exegetical approach to the episode. Very helpful. What no one has commented about, yet, is the significance of the number 108 in the lighthouse. Dude. 108 is the sum of 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42, as in 4+8+15+16+23+42=108. I added it on my iPhone during the episode and showed Emily. She didn’t seem very impressed by my sleuthing.

I am especially looking forward to next Tuesday, when ABC will show a rerun of the episode with on-screen annotations. Very cool.

UPDATE
It looks like I’ve been missing the 108 boat. Someone pointed out to me that lostpedia has all the answers you’re looking for. And then some.
108 on Lostpedia

RadLinks

Links that, in my opinion, are Rad:

Why do all national anthems sound the same? From Slate magazine.

It’s a one-in-three-million chance that this will happen to you at breakfast: an egg inside of an egg.

He went ahead and used the trespass version of the Lord’s prayer — when he carved the entire text on the top of a pin.

Taking a 90 minute nap in the afternoon may set you up for much greater success as you try to stay in school — and stay focused.

What will the internet look like in 2020? The experts make their predictions. A related question — what will Al Gore be like in 2020?

First Sunday in Lent: the Temptation of Christ

Matthew 4:1-11 is a central verse in the season of Lent. In this account, we see Jesus (second Adam) doing what First Adam could not do: overcome Satan.

In this encounter, Christ is victorious over temptation and, by resisting Satan in the desert, overthrows the notion that a man cannot resist the tempter. Robert Webber says it best: “This moment is seen as a turning point in the process of reversing the human situation.” Christ is victorious for us, doing what the original man could not do. God has become one of us and lives the life we could not live, inviting us to live in the same victory. The power of Jesus Christ is present at every moment of temptation. This brings great hope.

Romans 5:12-21 offers a great comparison of the first and Second Adam. Verse 19 sums it up well:

“Because one person disobeyed God, many became sinners. But because one other person obeyed God, many will be made righteous.”

Adam brings death and brokenness; Christ brings new life and victory for everyone.

I’m thankful for the cross and the victory of Christ over sin — especially since He invites me to live in the same victory.

Gift Card

It was at this particular birthday party of mine that two things happened involving $25. The first is most obviously the first because, well, it puts me in the upper echelon of personal thermal control combined with amazing functionality. As I opened the box and beheld the “as seen on TV” logo, I knew that my Ginsu-esque dreams were about to come true. Am I warm now? You bet. And it’s because I own a Snuggie (retail price – around $25).

The other $25 must be spent at amazon.com, per the gift card agreement. I’m staring at the little plastic friend right now (whilst keeping warm, I might add) and wondering what on earth to buy from Amazon. It’s not that I’m short on options. It’s not that Amazon has “nothing” to sell. Rather, its that they have just about everything that a balding 30 something would want (even Rogaine). No, this isn’t a commercial for Amazon. But it is a commercial for Rogaine.
No, it’s not.

My mind has spun ’round and ’round as I’ve considered what to buy with this gift card. No matter the amount, a gift card gives you license to be kinda nutty in what you get. Should I get a book? Nah. Too predictable. How about a DVD? Eh. Movies are so temporary. Although I love the film, how many times have I actually gone back and watched my Rushmore DVD? Answer: less than 2 times in more than 4 years.

No, no, no… the gift card allows for the gift acquirer to do something relatively insane yet utterly enjoyable. For example — what if I bought 25 of something for $1 each, and then distributed it to 25 friends? If the item was only 50 cents each, there’s 50 friends who are blessed to get whatever it is I buy. Why, it could be a thing-a-ma-jig or, even a whatchamacallit. Mmm. Candy bars.

I hope you see my dilemma. I don’t want to mess this one up. It’s been 3 months that I’ve been sitting on this gift card. What if I bought everyone a potholder with some initials on it? What if I got some remainders (old books that no one bought) and forced myself to read them so that I could learn how not to write?

Or I could just buy a $25 Swiss Army knife and behave as if I’m the assistant to the regional MacGyver.

Oh, what a feeling!

Full disclosure: I grew up in Metro Detroit, so I’m connected to the automotive industry via uncles, second cousins, great uncles, parent, friends, friends parents and our neighbor cool Joe, all of whom have worked for the big 3 or one of their suppliers at one point. Upon hearing that I was getting a Volkswagen, one family member said “Well, I won’t disown you, Adam, but… I may not help you fix it… ha ha.” I don’t think he was kidding. By the way, the VW was given to me and, luckily, didn’t need that much work (as long as I always parked it at the top of a hill).

It was an unspoken rule and eventually became part of my DNA — buy American, especially when it comes to vehicles.
This clashed with what I read as I grew up, that manufacturers like Toyota and Honda were second to none when it came to overall quality. Toyota was especially known for its TQM (Total Quality Management) and even led other car manufacturers to learn from (copy) their design and manufacturing techniques.

Oh, what a feeling.

Now what?

I’m not ready to draw any conclusions yet. It’s too early. I will say that it’s not fun to watch something go bad, even though my Big-3 DNA says to do otherwise. My Big-3 DNA also remembers Firestone Tires, Misplaced Fuel Tanks and, oh boy, the Edsel.

I find it fascinating that the US Government, whose job it is to protect and administer, are now in the awkward position of also being a stakeholder in the automotive business as you and I are all tax-paying owners of GM.

I also think it shows how geared toward faithfulness we are when we see something we trusted — Toyota, or even Tiger Woods (or even Ted Haggard) — become untrustworthy. It really does shake some people up. The world is full of things that disappoint. “Everything under the sun is meaningless!” writes Solomon.

I wonder if a bunch of Toyota Dealerships will be putting up barricades to stop Corollas from running through the walls of the service center? Maybe that will be part of the recall: new pedals and cement walls.

I wonder if this will all be forgotten in 6 weeks?

I wonder why that guy isn’t stopping for that red light…

SAFMC Sunday Review

A review of our two Sunday AM Worship Celebrations at Spring Arbor Free Methodist Church, from the perspective of the Worship Arts Pastor (that’s me):

– First service always seems a bit empty when the Choir & Orchestra are off, but having the handbells up there made a delightful difference. I am continually amazed that handbells actually work. I mean, if someone said to you “ding here, and here, but NOT here”, that would be tough. At least for me.

– It’s good to have the Senior Pastor back after his brief missions trip. He seems taller. Strange.

– Intern David did a fine job leading Worship in 2nd service. He saw it as his “final exam” for his Worship Arts internship. I saw it as him leading our church into the presence of the Lord. But if I had to give a grade, it would be an A. It was cool to be able to play keys in the background.

– I’m glad to be on Pastor/Spouse retreat with Emily (even though I have the flu), but I will miss the fact that we won’t have Worship Design today. Which reminds me: I should probably get some songs for next week in. Stat. Thanks to Suzanna for keeping packets full and rosters rosting.

Symptoms

The children are in good hands. The Jeep is in the parking lot. Emily is asleep. It’s the perfect retreat at a certain motor lodge in Michigan’s Little Bavaria — Frankenmuth, MI.
Problem: I woke up on the bathroom floor in our room at the Bavarian Inn.
Cause: Flu. Actually, I think I passed out for a little bit.
Bummer: We’re kid-free and taking it easy, yet I’d rather be at home where the bathroom floor seems softer.

It should be OK. Every Davidson in DavidsonHaus has experienced this 24-hour bug. Little baby Zach and I were the last ones to get it — everyone else has recovered, thankfully.

By this time tomorrow, everything should be back to normal, giving us still 2 days of retreating whist hanging out with various other pastors and their spouses in the Southern Michigan Conference of the Free Methodist Church. Keep sleeping, Emily. I’m just blogging and feeling very light headed. I probably shouldn’t drive. I also probably shouldn’t blog.

LOST and Ann Arbor

Of all the clues, thick plot developments and the “hey — wha’ happened?” moments on LOST, I do enjoy a good Ann Arbor, MI mention. Ann Arbor is only 45 minutes away from my house, so I’m cool by proxy. It’s been mentioned a few times, since the DHARMA gang finds their genesis — and scores their funding — through the University of Michigan (fictionally) (we think). If memory recalls, one scene looked something like this:

actor: Hey, are you going back to Ann Arbor? Also, there’s a smoke monster on the island.
different actor: There’s smoke in Ann Arbor, too, but it’s not from a monster. They have this “bash”, if you will, that…
locke: I can move my legs.
different actor: Then you should go to Ann Arbor.

I’m not sure if I’m getting this right. I don’t have the gift of transcript. But I do have the gift of internet (thanks, Comcast) (for nothing). So here’s a link to an article that showed up in the Detroit Free Press on this very day. It focuses on the Ann Arbor ties within LOST. And according to the ads on the sidebar, your dentist has been lying to you about teeth whitening. Shame on him or her.

The final season of LOST premiers Tuesday night on ABC. Check local listings.

JD Salinger

I just got word that author JD Salinger passed away today. He was 91 years old. Salinger was best known (at least to me) for his work Catcher In the Rye, which was released by 1951 and was read by me in 1996. I was a high school junior that found great resonance with the main character in the book, Holden Caulfield. It could be his success as an author or just the fact that he held more in common with his characters than we’ll ever know, but Salinger spent his last years living in isolation. We haven’t heard much from him lately, though I would guess that Catcher will carry a cultural significance for at least a few more generations.

I’m writing this post to appreciate two people, actually. I would have no idea — none whatsoever — if it wasn’t for my “Modern Novel” teacher at John Glenn High School in Westland, MI, Lynn LeBlanc. The man knew a lot about literature but knew even more about how to crack open a young mind and make it stick. Between Mr. LeBlanc and Gordon Parrington, biology teacher extraordinaire who taught me that getting a “C” is OK as long as you learned something, I had some pretty outstanding teachers. I appreciate this from time to time and especially at times like these, where a major player in the modern writing world has passed, and I “get it” because someone decided to teach.

Thanks.