Thursday, June 30, 2005
Happy Canada Day...
Tomorrow, July 1st, is Canada Day. We are 138 years old (and feeling it). Actually, compared to most of the world we are a very young nation. Asian, Middle Eastern and European countries have history that goes back hundreds and even thousands of years. I guess if you asked God though, our dirt is relatively the same age. It is the day that our nation celebrates it's independence from Alaska (speaking of Independence Day, wasn't that a great movie? Will Smith battling aliens, a computer virus shutting down their space ships, and Bill Pullman as the President. OK, that last part wasn't very believeable).
Canada Day. Wear your colours with pride. Red and white patriotic pride, not the rainbow coloured pride that seems to be a little less closeted lately. We live in a great nation. It's not only big, it's pretty neat. And somewhat tidy.
"Oh Canada, our home and native land!" (That was for Melaney, Norm and Cheryl....)
Canada Day. Wear your colours with pride. Red and white patriotic pride, not the rainbow coloured pride that seems to be a little less closeted lately. We live in a great nation. It's not only big, it's pretty neat. And somewhat tidy.
"Oh Canada, our home and native land!" (That was for Melaney, Norm and Cheryl....)
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
ABC's Of Canada...
A. "EH" --> As in, "How ya doin', eh?"
B. BACK BACON --> Famous around the world (anybody here ever eat it?)
C. COMEDY --> Jim Carrey - Howie Mandel - John Candy - Mike Myers - Dan Ackroyd - Martin Short - Michael J Fox - Leslie Nielsen - The New Democrat Party - Newfies - William Shatner
D. DON CHERRY --> Our country's Prime Minister
E. EQUATOR --> Which Canada is very far away from
F. FREE TRADE --> Another North American myth
G. GEESE --> Our specialized US infiltration team
H. HOCKEY --> National sport and religion
I. IGLOO --> Eskimo glue
J. JAPAN --> Where we get our cars
K. KETCHUP --> Made from tomatoes, not cats
L. LACROSSE --> How Quebecers explain La Gospel
M. MONEY --> Colourful as the trees in autumn (and worth as much)
N. NATIONAL ANTHEM --> As heard on the opening credits to Hockey Night In Canada
O. ONTARIO --> The center of the universe
P. PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND --> Only Atlantic province not starting with an 'N' (we received PEI from Mexico in the Free Trade agreement)
Q. QUEBEC --> High tax, funny accents, mandatory smoking, uniquely Canadian
R. RCMP --> "Really Cute Men on Patrol" according to the girls I know
S. SUBMARINES --> Canadian navy has 3
T. TOQUE --> Official headgear of Canada (Americans call them wool caps because they can't spell toque)
U. UNPROTECTED BORDER --> The longest in the world, we go to the US for gas and cheese (not necessarily in that order)
V. VICTORIA --> City named after a secret lingerie store
W. WEST EDMONTON MALL --> Naval base for our 3 submarines
X. XTRA GST --> GST extra (the tax that was supposed to disappear in 1988.... ho hum)
Y. YUKON --> It is a territory bigger than Texas, and that scares Americans
Z. ZED --> (Not zee)
The Great White North in a nutshell. Now, back to cooking up that bacon....
B. BACK BACON --> Famous around the world (anybody here ever eat it?)
C. COMEDY --> Jim Carrey - Howie Mandel - John Candy - Mike Myers - Dan Ackroyd - Martin Short - Michael J Fox - Leslie Nielsen - The New Democrat Party - Newfies - William Shatner
D. DON CHERRY --> Our country's Prime Minister
E. EQUATOR --> Which Canada is very far away from
F. FREE TRADE --> Another North American myth
G. GEESE --> Our specialized US infiltration team
H. HOCKEY --> National sport and religion
I. IGLOO --> Eskimo glue
J. JAPAN --> Where we get our cars
K. KETCHUP --> Made from tomatoes, not cats
L. LACROSSE --> How Quebecers explain La Gospel
M. MONEY --> Colourful as the trees in autumn (and worth as much)
N. NATIONAL ANTHEM --> As heard on the opening credits to Hockey Night In Canada
O. ONTARIO --> The center of the universe
P. PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND --> Only Atlantic province not starting with an 'N' (we received PEI from Mexico in the Free Trade agreement)
Q. QUEBEC --> High tax, funny accents, mandatory smoking, uniquely Canadian
R. RCMP --> "Really Cute Men on Patrol" according to the girls I know
S. SUBMARINES --> Canadian navy has 3
T. TOQUE --> Official headgear of Canada (Americans call them wool caps because they can't spell toque)
U. UNPROTECTED BORDER --> The longest in the world, we go to the US for gas and cheese (not necessarily in that order)
V. VICTORIA --> City named after a secret lingerie store
W. WEST EDMONTON MALL --> Naval base for our 3 submarines
X. XTRA GST --> GST extra (the tax that was supposed to disappear in 1988.... ho hum)
Y. YUKON --> It is a territory bigger than Texas, and that scares Americans
Z. ZED --> (Not zee)
The Great White North in a nutshell. Now, back to cooking up that bacon....
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Subliminal Elvis...
I got a clue as to who I was dealing with early on when we all had to hold hands to pray because it would give "extra energy" to our prayers and God would hear us better. Uh huh.
My father-in-law's cousin is dying. He was asked by his cousin's common-law wife to come by and visit, and possibly prepare a memorial service for the near future. The poor man has been suffering for several weeks, and is currently very low. Pastor Barry (dad) has visited a couple times, but this past Saturday he took me along. Since he will be heading to Fiji and New Zealand for the coming month, guess who is up to bat if and when his cousin passes away?
The "wife" is a very nice lady, and I have no doubt of her sincere belief in Jesus Christ, but her Christian doctrine leaves something to be desired. The best indicator of her mystical-Christian mind was when she explained how her "husband" had come to know Jesus. It seems that a year ago she made a tape of Elvis songs, recorded in a particular order that told the gospel story. When Pastor B's cousin was sleeping, this sweet lady would play the tapes, unbeknownst to him, inundating him with the story of Jesus (Elvis-style).
A few months later she noticed that he was more receptive to her Billy Graham programs on TV, and voila - he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Saviour! It couldn't be the prayers of this man's extended family over the years, oh no. It's all owed to the man with the blue suede shoes! Oh well, it'll be an interesting funeral for sure (to be held at the local Legionaire pub, no less). Pray that I have the proper sensitivity to minister grace to this grieving family.
Or just blare your Elvis albums while I am sleeping....
My father-in-law's cousin is dying. He was asked by his cousin's common-law wife to come by and visit, and possibly prepare a memorial service for the near future. The poor man has been suffering for several weeks, and is currently very low. Pastor Barry (dad) has visited a couple times, but this past Saturday he took me along. Since he will be heading to Fiji and New Zealand for the coming month, guess who is up to bat if and when his cousin passes away?
The "wife" is a very nice lady, and I have no doubt of her sincere belief in Jesus Christ, but her Christian doctrine leaves something to be desired. The best indicator of her mystical-Christian mind was when she explained how her "husband" had come to know Jesus. It seems that a year ago she made a tape of Elvis songs, recorded in a particular order that told the gospel story. When Pastor B's cousin was sleeping, this sweet lady would play the tapes, unbeknownst to him, inundating him with the story of Jesus (Elvis-style).
A few months later she noticed that he was more receptive to her Billy Graham programs on TV, and voila - he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Saviour! It couldn't be the prayers of this man's extended family over the years, oh no. It's all owed to the man with the blue suede shoes! Oh well, it'll be an interesting funeral for sure (to be held at the local Legionaire pub, no less). Pray that I have the proper sensitivity to minister grace to this grieving family.
Or just blare your Elvis albums while I am sleeping....
Friday, June 24, 2005
Luau At Our Place...
I'm going to pick up a sand box for our back deck today (you know, those green ones shaped like a turtle?). They're selling for half price at Toys R Us. Jayce will love it, I'm sure, and Kylan will probably enjoy eating the sand.
Anyways, just wanted people to know that we'll be playing beach volleyball later....
Anyways, just wanted people to know that we'll be playing beach volleyball later....
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
D Mail...
I have decided to begin posting some of the letters I wrote to companies way back in the 1990's. Click the link in the left hand column (D letters) to view updated posts.
They were composed when I, quite apparently, had more free time on my hands....
They were composed when I, quite apparently, had more free time on my hands....
Monday, June 20, 2005
Last, But Not Least...
It was Jayce's last day of preschool today, so they had a little party. Cupcakes, rice krispy squares, beer... y'know, the usual fare. The parents were invited back for the final 15 minutes and they proceeded to do a short graduation ceremony. Each preschooler received a paper grad cap and a rolled up "diploma." Needless to say, it was very cute and parents were snapping lots of photos of their munchkins (except us - we always forget our camera).
When they finished introducing all the kids and handing out diplomas, it hit me. Precious, the final little girl presented (that's really her name!), was introduced as "last, but not least." That's fine and dandy, but the insinuation is that ONE of the little children IS the least. It wasn't Precious, so that narrows it down to one of the 13 other kids introduced prior to the lisping girl with the frizzy black hair.
I think it's only fair to come out with the truth and introduce the child whom the preschool teachers considered the least (least favourite, least likeable, least academic... maybe an explanation of the criteria is in order as well). I left there wondering if our Jayce was considered the "least" in their eyes. Couldn't be. Could it?
Anyways, I hereby propose a new speech bylaw. Anyone considering using the phrase "last, but not least" in an introduction, speech, or sermon should be forced to reveal who or what was the "least" in their list. Maybe an official with a whistle should be on hand to stop the proceedings when the phrase is uttered. Or the oration should always include something to the effect: "Fifth, and certainly least, to graduate from the Deer Lake preschool..."
Then, and only then, would we know the truth, and people could walk away satisfied and not scratching their heads over who (or what) was the least.
Jayce was certainly one of the tallest kids in her class. She was probably one of the most verbose as well. Still, I'll probably go to my grave never really knowing what her rank was in the educational minds of Mrs. Friesen, Ms. Shireen, and the rest of the Deer Lake staff. Was she first? Was she fourteenth??
Kinda makes me want our Purdy's chocolate box back....
When they finished introducing all the kids and handing out diplomas, it hit me. Precious, the final little girl presented (that's really her name!), was introduced as "last, but not least." That's fine and dandy, but the insinuation is that ONE of the little children IS the least. It wasn't Precious, so that narrows it down to one of the 13 other kids introduced prior to the lisping girl with the frizzy black hair.
I think it's only fair to come out with the truth and introduce the child whom the preschool teachers considered the least (least favourite, least likeable, least academic... maybe an explanation of the criteria is in order as well). I left there wondering if our Jayce was considered the "least" in their eyes. Couldn't be. Could it?
Anyways, I hereby propose a new speech bylaw. Anyone considering using the phrase "last, but not least" in an introduction, speech, or sermon should be forced to reveal who or what was the "least" in their list. Maybe an official with a whistle should be on hand to stop the proceedings when the phrase is uttered. Or the oration should always include something to the effect: "Fifth, and certainly least, to graduate from the Deer Lake preschool..."
Then, and only then, would we know the truth, and people could walk away satisfied and not scratching their heads over who (or what) was the least.
Jayce was certainly one of the tallest kids in her class. She was probably one of the most verbose as well. Still, I'll probably go to my grave never really knowing what her rank was in the educational minds of Mrs. Friesen, Ms. Shireen, and the rest of the Deer Lake staff. Was she first? Was she fourteenth??
Kinda makes me want our Purdy's chocolate box back....
Friday, June 17, 2005
Why Border...?
Pastor Barry received a Chinese Christian newsletter yesterday in the church mail. It was a well-organized publication, trumpeting the work of God throughout the Chinese community in Vancouver. However, the main article caught Pastor B's eye. It was titled, "Why Border?" and had to do with all of the reasons that pastors do the work of the ministry, and encouraging them not to grow weary in doing good. He was scratching his head a bit, because the writer sprinkled the phrase "why border", seemingly at random, throughout the article. And the context made no sense because the author was not speaking about borders at all - geographically, culturally, or metaphysically.
Then Pastor Barry read the article again, out loud, in his best cantonese accent. "Why border" took on a whole new meaning! "Chinese ministry in the Vancouver area - Why BOTHER?" Ahhhh, sooooo! I usually write in a similar way to how I speak, but this author writes like he sounds!
I was going to water the lawn today, but this is the Lower Mainland so "why border?" Hmmm, it works with a Boston accent too....
Then Pastor Barry read the article again, out loud, in his best cantonese accent. "Why border" took on a whole new meaning! "Chinese ministry in the Vancouver area - Why BOTHER?" Ahhhh, sooooo! I usually write in a similar way to how I speak, but this author writes like he sounds!
I was going to water the lawn today, but this is the Lower Mainland so "why border?" Hmmm, it works with a Boston accent too....
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Deep Thoughts (by Jack Handey)...
If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, let 'em go, because man, they're gone.
***
I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.
***
To me, it's always a good idea to carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you give me a hand?" You can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."
***
Probably the earliest fly swatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick.
***
To me, boxing is like ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
***
If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror, because I bet that's what REALLY throws you into a panic.
***
I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. And since he's so busy, you'd probably have to run up to him real quick and hand it to him.
***
If you're a cowboy and you're dragging a guy behind your horse, I bet it would really make you mad if you looked back and the guy was reading a magazine.
***
I'm going out to find me one of those newfangled flyswatters....
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Brangelina...
I saw "Mr. And Mrs. Smith" and I must say that it was quite enjoyable - once you parked your brain in neutral.
When idling, I didn't care so much that none of the bad guys could aim at Brad or Angelina Ballerina's heads, arms or legs. Just their bullet-proof vests. Also, the neat and tidy ending posed a huge problem for any rational person thinking about the consequences of the Smiths shooting up all of their corporate assassin buddies in the previous scene. However, with my mind lightly humming to itself, none of that seemed to bother me. The witty banter, comedic situations, and all them shootin' an' 'splosions did their job keeping my brain firmly planted in the cushioned Silver City seat.
Aside from the moral issues involved with spouses in a dead marriage killing supposed scumbags for money - at the cost of their own real relationship - I laughed a lot. The Smiths were basically evil, but likeable, and you were rooting for them to soften their hearts, love each other more, and be the suburban barbequers they were pretending to be. I guess that happened somewhat at the end, but you couldn't help thinking that mercenary blood was still running through their veins.
But, I wasn't thinking about it....
When idling, I didn't care so much that none of the bad guys could aim at Brad or Angelina Ballerina's heads, arms or legs. Just their bullet-proof vests. Also, the neat and tidy ending posed a huge problem for any rational person thinking about the consequences of the Smiths shooting up all of their corporate assassin buddies in the previous scene. However, with my mind lightly humming to itself, none of that seemed to bother me. The witty banter, comedic situations, and all them shootin' an' 'splosions did their job keeping my brain firmly planted in the cushioned Silver City seat.
Aside from the moral issues involved with spouses in a dead marriage killing supposed scumbags for money - at the cost of their own real relationship - I laughed a lot. The Smiths were basically evil, but likeable, and you were rooting for them to soften their hearts, love each other more, and be the suburban barbequers they were pretending to be. I guess that happened somewhat at the end, but you couldn't help thinking that mercenary blood was still running through their veins.
But, I wasn't thinking about it....
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Boop, Bonk, Bap...
My son is 10 months old and I'm a little concerned that he might grow up thinking that a soundtrack of noise effects will accompany his every move. I just realized that I not only make gurgling sounds when he drinks, I make a popping noise when he hoists a drooly fistful of Cheerios is his mouth.
Now he is moving around and crawling lots. Hence a "bonk", "boing" or "boop" sound from his daddy when he bumps his leg, throws a block, or topples over. It's almost reached the point where I'd rather watch him knock his head on something than try to save him the discomfort, just so I can come up with a new "ping" or "schlonk" sound. It seems that I've got an entire repertoire of f/x for his every body or bowel movement.
What if he assumes this to be the norm? Will he expect me to do a "swish" when he's on the school basketball team? To make a "motorboat" noise when he kisses his girlfriend? To "grind the gears" when he's shifting, "schlurp" when he's eating soup, "ch-ch-ch-ch" when he brushes his teeth? Does anyone else ever worry about these kinds of things?
I'll happily to do a "light sabre" if he's raking the leaves....
Now he is moving around and crawling lots. Hence a "bonk", "boing" or "boop" sound from his daddy when he bumps his leg, throws a block, or topples over. It's almost reached the point where I'd rather watch him knock his head on something than try to save him the discomfort, just so I can come up with a new "ping" or "schlonk" sound. It seems that I've got an entire repertoire of f/x for his every body or bowel movement.
What if he assumes this to be the norm? Will he expect me to do a "swish" when he's on the school basketball team? To make a "motorboat" noise when he kisses his girlfriend? To "grind the gears" when he's shifting, "schlurp" when he's eating soup, "ch-ch-ch-ch" when he brushes his teeth? Does anyone else ever worry about these kinds of things?
I'll happily to do a "light sabre" if he's raking the leaves....
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Just Be It...
Don't just Do it
Don't just Try it
Don't just Live it
Don't just Imagine it
Don't just Fake it
Don't just Read it
Don't just Think it
Don't just Walk it
Don't just Talk it
Don't just Experience it
Don't just Philosophize it
Don't just Pretend it
Don't just Defend it
Don't just Blab it
Don't just Grab it
Don't just Glamourize it
Don't just Exercise it
Don't just Practise it
Don't just Preach it
In every moment of every day of your life...
Just Be It!
Philippians 2:14-16 -- Galatians 5:22-23 -- Titus 3:1-2
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Matt Kennedy...
I've got a buddy who is currently trying to become the next CANADIAN IDOL. Tonight he was chosen as one of the final 32 contestants vying for the title. It's pretty exciting for his family and friends. I saw him sing tonight for a few brief moments, but they haven't shown much of him yet on TV. Matt is a youth leader at the Northside Foursquare Church in Coquitlam (a really good place), and he and his wife, Carissa, were the main worship leaders at the final Youth Camp I directed in August 2004. I was the MC at their wedding, and amazingly, I didn't wreck their lives (so far)!
Some of Matt's highlights since I've known him include: being the alpha male in a "Crocodile Hunter" camp video; searching for a bear at night, wearing only his underwear in "The Bear Ginch Project" camp video; acting as a ninja villain in a "kung fu kitten" camp video... see the pattern here? Yup, he only does acting when animals are included in the video titles.
Matt, I'm rooting for you and thinking about you.
I'm also thinking it's garbage day tomorrow....
Some of Matt's highlights since I've known him include: being the alpha male in a "Crocodile Hunter" camp video; searching for a bear at night, wearing only his underwear in "The Bear Ginch Project" camp video; acting as a ninja villain in a "kung fu kitten" camp video... see the pattern here? Yup, he only does acting when animals are included in the video titles.
Matt, I'm rooting for you and thinking about you.
I'm also thinking it's garbage day tomorrow....
Monday, June 06, 2005
He Was Wrapped Too Tight...
I had received mail from the Jones Soda Co. before, way back in the day when I wrote letters to companies making silly observations and asking for t-shirts. They sent me a great XL shirt in the mid-90's (long since worn out) and a nice postcard thanking me for the letter I had written suggesting a Jones Soda theme song (to the tune of "The Flintstones", I think).
Today's letter was different. Much smaller.
Shortly after my son's birth, I had sent them a picture online (www.jonessoda.com) for their bottles of delicious carbonated beverage. Well, Kylan is 10 months old now and practically ready for college, and they finally decided to put him on a label. Today was a very exciting day for his proud mommy and daddy, until we realized there was no monetary reward for this great achievement - only great losses as we now must stop at every 7-11 and corner store in the Lower Mainland to buy out each Sugar Free Ginger Ale with my son's likeness glued on the bottle. At least it's a flavour no one would think of drinking....
Be sure to watch for Kylan's pic. It was captured by his wonderful Auntie Lonni, seconds after having his first bath and being wrapped in a blanket much too tightly like one of those fake cuban cigars on that Seinfeld episode. I knew it would be a great pic because of the constipated look on his face. Simply a couple hours old and he resembled an eskimo more than a white Peters kid!
I'm guessing Sugar Free Jones Soda Ginger Ale will have a similar effect on a person...
Friday, June 03, 2005
At A Loss For Words...
I'm not sure what to call it. A lull. Tiredness. The downside of way too much sugar. Whatever this recent period of time in my life is called, it seems to me like I haven't had anything of value to say to anyone.
Now many would say, "Dairn, that's just not true." And to an extent they're probably right. However, it's been a feeling I've had for months now - like I just haven't been able to speak into people's lives. Or even my own.
That is not a problem if you are a mime or if you work in a noisy sawmill, but for a pastor it is a very disconcerting sensation to be sure. Like I said before, it's probably not entirely true. I'm sure that I say the right things often, and even some helpful things sometimes, but it has just felt like nothing has been bubbling inside me ready to burst out. No new ideas. No yearning to speak my mind. No real opinions one way or the other. It's been quiet. Too quiet. I feel like tapping my head, "Hello in there! McFLY!!"
So yeah, nice way to start a Blog, eh? lol
But that's what this is about. This is for me. It makes me write. It forces me to think. And if you're reading along, don't be surprised if I'm not the deepest well in the desert... I'm still drilling for fresh water. But feel free to join me in the digging!
Man, I need a shovel....
Now many would say, "Dairn, that's just not true." And to an extent they're probably right. However, it's been a feeling I've had for months now - like I just haven't been able to speak into people's lives. Or even my own.
That is not a problem if you are a mime or if you work in a noisy sawmill, but for a pastor it is a very disconcerting sensation to be sure. Like I said before, it's probably not entirely true. I'm sure that I say the right things often, and even some helpful things sometimes, but it has just felt like nothing has been bubbling inside me ready to burst out. No new ideas. No yearning to speak my mind. No real opinions one way or the other. It's been quiet. Too quiet. I feel like tapping my head, "Hello in there! McFLY!!"
So yeah, nice way to start a Blog, eh? lol
But that's what this is about. This is for me. It makes me write. It forces me to think. And if you're reading along, don't be surprised if I'm not the deepest well in the desert... I'm still drilling for fresh water. But feel free to join me in the digging!
Man, I need a shovel....
