‘Tis the Season for a Census

Every ten years or so the United States conducts a nationwide census, where everyone counts off when the census worker points to you. And if someone messes the number sequence up by not saying the correct number, where the person before shouts “two million, four hundred and two thousand, three hundred and twelve” and the next person shouts “sorry, I was tying my shoe” they have to start all over again at one. It is a tedious ordeal, just as it was in fourth grade but with a much larger “classroom” and many more “teachers” who are gainfully but temporarily employed by the Government.

All that to say this: there’s some issue today with a poster advertising the coming 2010 Census that depicts Mary and Joseph which says “This is how Jesus was born: Mary and Joseph participated in a Census”. Their goal, I assume, is to raise awareness of the census. Their result, though, is the upsetting of many evangelicals. The article in USA Today (where you can also see the poster) .

Tying the Census to the Christmas story strengthens the message, Cruz says, because “Mary and Joseph, who were both God-fearing, decided they needed to participate.”

There are two sides, if not more, to this rather small deal. Side one is the offended side that takes the stance that using Jesus to get people to register in the census is blasphemy. Others from this camp may cite the separation of church & state. Still others may say that Jesus’ birth was not reliant upon a census but upon the sovereign will of the Father, which is not mentioned in the poster.

Side two is the “well, whaddya know” side. They may not agree that it was a good idea but they also know that a world that doesn’t know Christ also, by default, tends to mishandle Him and use Him for marketing schemes, sky-fairy wishes and curses on the neighbor’s dogs — all of which have nothing to do with His Awesome Power and Majesty and therefore is laughable. What do you expect? They don’t know Him, but they do know how to exploit a story. Some people in this camp may take the step of saying — actually, that’s true: Jesus’ parents did participate in the Census, which says a lot about the gritty humanity of the Christ Child and the strange circumstances of His birth. But what you may not realize about Jesus is that…

I admit my bias in showing the two sides. I’m sure there are more. But what do YOU think?

Transcripts

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “my life is pretty good and all, but I sure wish there was a way to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail at work without tipping off my boss that I’m wasting valuable company time.”

Well, friend, think no more.

I came across the entire transcript of said movie here. It looks remarkably like a TPS report or some other kind of work-related document.

You’re.

Welcome.

I’ve totally lost it.

I’ve totally lost it. Weight, that is. Ha ha! Do you see what I did there? Someone might have assumed that I was in reference to my mind, when, in actuality, I was merely referring to the fact that I have lost weight. Losing weight is much better than losing your mind.

In a previous post here on r adam davidson.com, I had mentioned without compensation my favortism toward the iPhone application known as “Lose It”, which allows the user (according to the end-user agreement) to monitor caloric intake and exercise toward the goal of losing weight. Let me just say this: it works. While I’m not as successful as the cast of “The Biggest Loser”, I do weigh less than I did in my freshman year of college. Total weight lost as of today: 36.4 pounds. Yes, it’s another Jenny Craig success story, but without the Jenny Craig.

Another factor to consider is that of encouragement. When people say to me “you’ve lost weight”, that encourages me. It’s especially encouraging since they no longer mean it as a sarcastic joke. When others say “if Adam can do it, I can do it” and proceed to enter into a weight-loss goal program, it’s encouraging. Best of all is Emily, my wonderful wife, who believes that I can actually lose weight and feel great, without the aid of Mr. Atkins or Mr. Stomach Staple.

New Home.FM Mornings @ Home Movie

It’s a brand new Home.FM Mornings @ Home Movie.  It’s not a home-movie but rather a movie on home.fm. I wanted to be sure to make that clear before we went any further.

Anyway, congrats to Jamin Bradley on a great idea and fine editing work. It’s a “docu-sode” called “Adam’s Personal Space”. We’re hoping to do a number of docu-sodes that pertain to Mornings @ Home AND end up making us look emotionally vindictive, which we are not. Probably.

Saint of Perpetual Good Deals

I’d like to thank a few people who are helping to bolster my music collection:

First, thanks to the people of St. Vincent DePaul — patron Saint of Perpetual Good Deeds — who facilitate the purchase of CDs for nickles upon their dollar value.

Second, thanks to those who donate their CDs to St. Vincent DePaul — patron Saint of receiving donations — so that I can buy hits like “VanHalen LIVE: Right Here, Right Now”.  The two disc set was a mere $1.99.  That’s the price of two songs at Apple’s iTunes Music Store — patron Saint of Steve Job’s millions.

Good music is good to have.  Cheap music is good to have.  Good, cheap music is good to have.  I also like honey roasted peanuts, because they are good.  Oh.  NEVER buy honey roasted peanuts from St. Vincent DePaul.  If someone didn’t finish them and decided to donate the remainder, you should probably steer clear. Trust me on this.

Vintage Computers & Windows 7

I just bought a Texas Instruments (TI99/4A) computer from a thrift store for less than five bucks.  I sometimes find myself in a fit of nostalgia, the kind that makes me spend money on something that may be worth something but probably isn’t.  Of all the stuff that this child of the 80’s coveted, I was especially oriented to computers.  I had a Vic-20 from my older cousin Rob, which I can still use today because I remember commands like ‘LOAD “*”, 8, 1 — which is light years behind Windows 7 and several steps behind Windows Vista.  Of course, I kid.

Now I have this super old computer, still in its original packaging, sitting in the back of my somewhat old Jeep.  Oh, they’re a match made in heaven all right.  I have been scouring the interweb in order to discover its actual value, which our friends at eBay would put somewhere between “less than five bucks” and “nothing”.  That’s okay, because I think it hooks right up to my television AND it came with a BASIC 1.0 cartridge, which means I’ll be running programs in no time.  What are the chances that I’ll be writing code that’s not Y2K compliant?  Only time will tell.

In all of my exploration, I came across our own Dr. Bill Cosby — yes, of the Jello Pudding Pop fame — presenting his reasoning for buying a TI99 computer.  His enthusiasm is contagious / kind of creepy,  as seen in this picture:

“ya see, the kids today, with their typin’ and their space bar-in’ and their loading of the games with the spaced invader and the 8 bits o’ this and that… they don’t know what Jazz is!”

Tangerine Tangent

There’s nothing quite as delicious as a tangerine,
whether you’re warm or cold; wet or dry.

I have a wet/dry vac in my basement
for when it rains.

I’m not sure where the leak is,
or how exactly the water gets into my basement,
but when it does, I just vacuum it up.

So yeah. Tangerines are great.

Reading

I just started reading Island by Aldous Huxley.  I was drawn to the book because it is tied in to the ABC show Lost — possibly one of the finest television shows in recent history (of course I do not include TV shows in this category like “Steve Guttenberg’s Police Academy Hour”).   ABC started a Lost book club that helps viewers like me and you keep track of literary references within the show.  Whether Sawyer is reading a copy of Watership Down or John Locke hands a copy of Valis to Ben, the observant viewer is well rewarded for making connections that unlock some deeper mysteries associated with the book.

Huxley’s book opens with a line that describes a scene on Lost with eerie accuracy:

lying there like a corpse in the dead leaves, his hair mattered, his face grotesquely smudged and bruised, his clothes in rags and muddy, Will Farnaby awoke with a start…

Does this scene ring a bell?  Do you recognize it in the show?  I’ll give you a hint — some people may not have seen it because they weren’t fans just yet.

Plus there’s the obivious connection between the title of the book I’m reading (Island) and the fact that they’re stuck on one. I’m looking forward to the new season, which starts, according to an official sounding web site, “sometime in 2010″.

I Am A Bell Ringer

I recently had the opportunity to ring the bell for the Salvation Army.  Somehow I ended up on the Advisory Board for the Jackson Salvation Army — I say “somehow” because, well, let’s face it — I’m just some dude.  Actually, I see it as a rare chance to serve the community without it feeling like it’s part of my job description as a Pastor.  I see this as a healthy thing for many reasons, some of which I bet you could guess.  I will say this: a Pastor does lose one small aspect of Christian living that others get to retain, and that is the chance to volunteer as a normal churchman/churchwoman.  Sure, we put in our time and enjoy it, but there’s no ignoring the fact that it is tied to a paycheck.  Not literally, of course.  Have you ever tried to tie a subjective factor to a paycheck?  Even if you could find some kind of magic rope that would somehow lasso “volunteering”, you would still need to put grommets in the paper check.  Otherwise, the rope would rip right through the paper.  I think that this whole idea is beyond absurd.  I will abandon it and move on to the next paragraph. Thank you for your patience up to this point.

A bell ringer stands outside a store where people are both entering and exiting, presumably to shop and perhaps act on specific plans to buy something for Christmas.  This is where the Salvation Army comes in.  Though the community is served year ’round, it is especially important to remember those who are in need during the Holidays.  Enter the ding-a-lingy doo.  I stood there for two hours, smiling and greeting people in a very non-guilt inducing way, wishing them a Merry Christmas and commenting on the weather (when it’s 50 degrees after Thanksgiving, you feel as though you’ve moved to a warmer climate — which is most places besides Michigan).  “What a nice day” I would remark as people walked into this Mart with Walls.  “Thank you — Merry Christmas” would regularly pour from my mouthy works to the ears of a donor.  It was a very low key ask.  A ringing bell, a donation bucket and a sign that says “Salvation Army — Need Knows No Season”.  It’s true.

For two hours, I rang the bell.  I discovered new rhythms and checked the acoustic value of ringing near glass vs. ringing near cement.  I thought about catchy things to say to people as they walked by, things like “I can’t get my ears to stop ringing” or “Have a good Wal-Marting” or something.  It rarely if ever worked.  Some people looked away.  A few smiled and said hello.  Most just went about their routine, just as I have so many times. It’s not that I personally get any of this money, though I know the difference it will make in our community.  So I’m pulling for it, but I’m not depending on it.  They can certainly see that I’m not wasting away.  Yet, I care deeply about people donating.  Yet again, I tried really hard not to make anyone feel guilty.  It’s a delicate balance that I would guess all ringers have felt and most are better at than me.

That’s when the purple lady came by.  She walked up and made a very nice donation.  The only reason I noticed her specific monetary amount is because the bucket was getting full and I had to use a paint stick to compress the donations into the bucket.  She waited for me to finish and then grabbed my arm.  She said “you see this big purple purse?”  I did.  It was nice.  I think I remarked about its niceness.  She then said “and do you see this purple jacket?”  Indeed I saw the jacket, too, and said something about how it matches the purse with wonderful accuracy.  She said “now remember — I’m the lady with the big purple purse and the purple jacket — when I come back out of the store, don’t make me feel guilty because I gave on the way in, OK?”

OK.  Consider it done.

I must admit that I was tempted to catch her on the way out and give her an “I’m so ashamed of you, purple purse and jacket lady” look, albeit jokingly, but I didn’t see her.  And maybe that’s for the better.  Oh, there were other strange things, like the fight in the parking lot or the near fender-bender as people pushed for the spot that was closer to the door (and the bucket, right?).  There was the tatted & pierced kid who carefully folded up a donation and placed it in the bucket as if it were some sacred act.  Maybe for him it was.

Zhu Zhu Galore

If you’re a parent like me, then at least two things are true:

1. You have kids.
2. They have certain ideas about what they want for Christmas, and it’s going to cost you.

Emily and I have three kids, though none of them have been indoctrinated yet by the Zhu Zhu craze. If you haven’t yet heard, Zhu Zhu is a robotic hamster that does what most other hamsters do and, according to the theme song, is “so much fun without the mess”. Self-propelled and chock full of 8K of artificial intelligence, It’s like a Roomba vacuum, but with more hair and less vacuuming. Perhaps this embedded YouTube video will explain:

And then again, perhaps it won’t explain. These things are going for upwards of $60 at Amazon.com and possibly even more at your favorite toy store. By the way, Amazon has made it clear in their description that, quote, “Mr. Squiggles is a modern-day Houdin”. I’m one of those uncool parents who doesn’t know what a previous day Houdin is, let alone a modern-day version, so I looked it up at Wikipedia and found that “Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin (December 7, 1805 – June 13, 1871) was a French magician. He is widely considered the father of the modern style of conjuring.”

No wonder the kids are going ga-ga over these Zhu Zhus!

As we all know, when kids lose self control and are overwhelmed with desire, the best thing a parent can do is match their enthusiasm and start pushing other parents.

I remember having an analog version of the Zhu Zhu, a hamster named “Egon”. He would crawl through tubes and stuff, but he would also defaecate on a regular basis, having no regard for the fact that he was no longer in his cage but rather crawling around the kitchen table. I miss everything but that. Oh. And the biting.