Scary Moment

In an odd anti deja vu, I had a dream the night before last about being in a shooting. I actually had the same dream back to back. I woke up after the dream, went back to sleap, and had the same dream over again with slightly different details.

Last night at work, I got into a short pursuit that ended in a driver of a stolen vehicle running the car into a ditch and bailing out. We ran and ran and ran, probably a quartet mile before it was all said and done. Toward the end of the foor chase, I reached down do feel my gun and didn't feel a gun there. I looked down. No gun. no holster either. My entire holster was missing, somewhere between me and my car in one of the most dangerous parts of the city.

We found the gun andthe bottom half of the holster right next to my car. It's a sinking feeling to realize that you ran that far in a high crime drug area with no gun. Incidentally, I found out that the brand of holster I was issued has just been recalled because "there is a small rick of failure." Imagine that.

Here's what it looks like:

Recent Home Improvements

Here are some pics of what we've been doing to our house. What you are about to see is about $800 worth of stuff and lots of work. Thankfully, we got lots of gift cards for Christmas, so other people money softened the blow to us.


Here is the dining room. As you can see by the drop clothes and pait buckets in the photo, this was just done. Im fact, at the time of this post, the paint has yet to dry.


Here is the biggest portion of the money we've put into the house. That's new tile on the floor, new paint on the wall and in the back, a new stove. The kitchen is small but now it's sweeeeeet.



Ah. This was actually done a long time ago, but since I never posted pics, this is the new color in the living room. I love thje way the stairwell pops with this new paint.

There it is kids. In case any of you rent and are considering buying, please remember; it's just just the grand we've sunk into making the house look good (we're no where near done) it's also the money to fix the AC and the dishwasher and the plumbing in the bathroom and the sewer line in the back yard and the front door and the toilet seats...

Bye for now. I got some more honey-do's ahead of me.

The Frog in the Wig

I tried to update my profile and got a new question for it. The question was "The children are waiting. Tell the story about the frog in the wig." It wouldn't take my answer because it was more than 150 characters long, so here is my story about the frog in the wig:

The bald frog with the wig was about to finally score with the princess, which would have turned him into a handsome prince. Just at the moment in which the princess was at the breaking point of ecstasy, the frog's powdered wig fell off. It slid over his face and onto the floor. At that moment, she realized that he was not a distinguished member of the House of Commons, as he had told her, but only an ordinary frog. She ran away and he remains a frog today.

The End

I Won't Forget the Men Who Died

I was going through a shelf on my book case today, considering what I should keep and what I should get rid of as I am running out of shelf space. I came across the portfolio book that I had to make as part of my Senior Capstone Project. As most of you know, that project was to direct "All My Sons," which I did in early 2002.

I chose the play in the Spring of 2001 and was already heavy into the dramaturgy when September 11th happened. By the play was performed, our nation's involvement in Afganistan was still fresh and we had not yet gone into Iraq. At the time, I had no idea how relevant the issues raised in my play would become.

I read the program from the play today and thought about how much I learned about the character of our nation by directing the play. Yet, as I read the director's notes, I realize how much more the sacrifice of our young men means to me now that we, as a society, are seeing the sacrifices for real. I have decided to publish the Director's Note on the back of the All My Sons Program here with the admonishment to remember what you have and what it has meant for you to have it.

"Finally the Word Came-Let's go- and there we were in combat, something new in my life. But, oh, What an experience...pulled myself together and tried to locate my outfit...But, what was left of them, just a handful, about 26 out of 160."
-PFC Dom Bart
-From War Letters
-Ed. by Andrew Caroll

When I began working on "All My Sons," I had no idea how much this powerful script would change me. The power behind "All My Sons" is that it begins as a common story. It is the story of any family in the mid to late nineteen forties. As Joe says, "That's what a war does. It changed all the tallies. I had two sons, now I got one." But unlike other families, this one has something to hide. No other script that I have ever worked with addresses so clearly and successfully the anguish of death, the ecstacy of love and the terror of a past that will not fade. No other script presents so skillfully the impact of that Great War on the individual family that was changed by it. Hundreds of thousands of men gave life and limb to secure the freedom of people thousands of miles away. we hope that this production will move each audience member to, as Chris says, "bring that to Earth again, as some kind of monument," and it will remind people that, "when you drive that new car, you've got to know that it came out of the love a man can have for a man. You've got to be a little better because of that."

January 2002.

Buy My Book

My play "The Origin of Language" is now on sale through cafe press. For those of you who haven't been subjected to the play already, here is the synopsis:

This absurdist morality tale follows two cavemen as they invent language. As one of the men becomes the linguistic hegemon, a power struggle ensues which will end in destruction.

The cover design was done by my friend and talented graphis artist Ben Johnson with Tactical Magic in Mempis.

Tell all your theatre friends who need one acts to perform! The book costs $10.00 which, after printing, nets me a whopping 60 cent profit. My royalties will be a steal as well, I promise.

American Eulogy

I have really gotten into this one minute play thing. It's very fun to try to be concise and still get the point across. If I write enough of these, I may put them in a book. They would make good character studies for high school and early college. But alas, that's not very humble of me to say.

This play is called "American Eulogy."

LIGHTS UP

There is a podium. It has a cross on it. In front or behind the podium is a casket.
It is closed and has a floral arrangement on it.

Speaker walks to the podium. He wears a dark suit. .

He clears his throat.

SPEAKER
When Karen first asked me to do this, I told her that I didn't know what to say. She told me that I should tell you all the things that we knew and loved about Tom. Tom was my friend. It's fitting, then, that I tell you all the things about Tom that I think he would have liked all of you to know about him... I think though, that even if you'd only met him once or twice, you know what was important to him. You could see it in the way that he lived him life.You could tell because he devoted himself to certain things. And it's these things that we remember him by today.
He pulls out a piece of folded paper from his jacket pocket.
He unfolds it.

SPEAKER
Tom... (choking back tears for a moment)Tom was a workaholic. He spent hours into the night at the office, often not arriving home until everyone had gone to bed. He was a model employee. He didn't let petty things like his son's little league stand in the way of the things that are important in this life. He never missed an opportunity to go out of town on business, even if it meant that he had to miss his daughter's horse riding competition. He was so dedicated that he often wouldn't even call home to check on his family while he was away. You see, Tom lived his life in such a way that we could all see what was important. He...he was the first on the block to own a Mercedes. When it became popular to live in the country, he was the first to move. He had... (starting to cry)four thousand square feet and a detached garage. He had a very nice boat, which he even took me out on once. And he was also a good husband. He gave Karen diamonds because he knew that diamonds were what she really needed. Yes, Tom had it all. I mean, six figures. I think that's what Tom would have wanted us to remember about him. He showed it by the way he lived. No one could doubt what was important to Tom.

LIGHTS DOWN.

Odd Man Out? Religious Survey

Author Julie Ann Fidler is working on a new book and has put out a survey to help her.

It is questioning whether or not respondents have ever felt like the "odd man out" in the church and why and how the church can improve. I urge each of my three readers to take the survey whether he or she has felt this way or not. I suspect that verybody has felt left out of atleast one church and pretty much say what made them feel that way.

You'll Shoot You're Eye Out

Starz on Demand has put our the Christmas Story in Thirty Seconds acted out by bunnies. Worth the price of admission for sure.

But I think my personal favorite is The Shining. These are created by Jennifer Shiman. All of them can be found at www.angryalien.com.

The Importance of Security

I decided to show both my readers a play that I wrote for the DNA Festival of Very,Very,Very Short PLays and Films hosted by the University of Idaho. The festival is an event where 20-25 one page plays based on a topic are performed. No results as to whether or not either of my plays will be selected but writing one page plays was a fun experiment. I've decided to post one of them.

If you would like to submit a play, the details and submission rules can be found here. This year's theme is "Airport Plays." Thus, here is a play in an airport.

LIGHTS UP:

Two TSA screeners stand, facing the audience.

SCREENER 1
Anything to declare? No?

SCREENER 2
(whispers in screener 1's ear)

SCREENER 1
He is?

SCREENER 2
(whispers again)

SCREENER 1
Sir, it has come to our attention that you are a homosexual. I'm sorry, but Congress, the President and the TSA have decided that you are a threat to national security. You must go with an officer to be questioned further. Have a nice day.

A TSA officer enters from offstage. He enters the audience, selects an audience member and escorts him out.

SCREENER 1
Anything to declare?

SCREENER 2
(whispers again)

SCREENER 1
He is? You'd never suspect if you weren't told. Sir, It has come to our attention that you are an African American. As such, Congress, The President and the TSA have determined that you are a threat to National Security. You must go with this officer to be questioned further. Have a nice day.

A TSA officer enters from offstage. He enters the audience, chooses an audience member and leads him out.

SCREENER 1
Ready to take a break?

SCREENER 2
(whispers)

SCREENER 1
Well, if we're secure, it's all worth it in the end. Have a nice day.

LIGHTS DOWN:

Irrelevant Church

I have been feeling convicted lately. I have read a few books in the past months that have all seemed to have some common themes. The last of which was Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. In it, Miller traces his coming of age in his spirituality.

In it, he discusses many of the ways that "Christianity" gets in the way of spirituality. May of his ideas, I was ready to disregard because he often threatened to throw the baby out with the bath water. But, then I went to church.

Something very frightening occurred to me as I looked around at the faces in the crown and sung along by memory to the songs.

The church is completely irrelevant to modern society. Before you move to dis-fellowship me, look around at your own congregations and tell me if you don't see it too.

Even in very good, open, loving congregations, you'll notice that the service is for and by comfortable Christians. We preach about issues that no one is talking about to people who we know will agree with us. We have completely lost touch with the world that we have been sent to preserve.

I think that the biggest problem, is that we have no focus. It's okay that the worship service is set up to edify the Christian. I'm not suggesting that we start gearing our services with the sole purpose of seeking the lost (though that should be a concern). The problem is, that we've made the worship service the focus of the church.

Christianity is something that we do once to three times a week at a building somewhere in the suburbs. It was never supposed to be that way. The church service is supposed to be the smallest part of what we do as a church. The church exists to serve the people that are around us. The worship service is meant to be a time to edify, learn and thank God in between the stuff that we've been sent here to do. Yet, very few of us have given up our possessions, or actually gone out and fed the hungry. Instead, we think it's enough to give a little money on Sunday and pay someone else to do our work for us, then we complain when the people that we are giving the money to don't repay us by filling our pews.

That's not what we've been called to do. We are here to do actual work. We are here to save the world. Unfortunately, we haven't even tried.

So, what will I do about it? I don't know, these are un-thought out ramblings at this point. Will I plant a church? Will I begin to sell my possessions and give to the poor? Will I write a book (of which I already have a couple in the works)? Don't know. I will start and have started by praying on the issue and evaluating my own role in the church and the Kingdom of God.

That's all for now. More later.