The elusive "gut" and other strange things...

It's storming again here in the 'Ham - which reminds me of a thought I had just the other day that was left as undeveloped as the South Pole.

The subject revolves around seen and unseen forces. The seen forces in this case are the electromagnetic flashes of light my friends' brother saw this weekend when he was struck by lightning (Note: he had a remarkably quick recovery and was laughing about it less than an hour later - which is wondrous indeed). The unseen forces - clearly - are harder to pin down.

When yon friend-of-mine's brother was struck, she suddenly had an empty feeling in her stomach even though she had no idea what had happened. The way she described it to me, she just suddenly knew *something* had happened to her brother. And she was right, as we now know. Strange.

But is it so strange?

A product of a culture that emphasizes the empirical, I've always felt a little odd hearing people's stories about how they had visions or sudden feelings that actually corresponded with reality. A few months ago, I was working with a guy at my internship in London (you remember Dennis and the others? same place.) who told me he was led to work at ECCP and to attend St. Barnabas Church because of a vision he saw. "I had never been there before," he told me, "but when I got there it looked exactly as it had in the dream." It didn't help that right after that, he asked me how I was led to work there. "Uh...well, it was an internship that looked interesting to me and seemed like it fit my talents and such..."

The point is, these 'other-worldly' experiences happen every day, apparently just not to me. No - I realize, of course, that they don't happen to a lot of people. But is that because we're just not special, or does that mean that they don't really happen to anyone at all, and it's just in their minds? My experience suggests that neither is the case. In fact, it seems quite possible to me that my doubts about the reality of these strange experiences is precisely what prevents them from ever coming my way.

Hypnosis, I am told by my psychology teacher, works far more effectively for people who go into it believing it works. For the doubters, it rarely has the same power. Does this invalidate hypnosis? I don't think so - because clearly it still works for some. What it suggests is that a correlation exists between belief and experience. And this is nothing new - we've know this from placebo drugs and the like for years. "Correlation does not mean causation," I can hear my teacher saying now. So I will try and not draw anything more out of this phenomenon.

In dealing with issues involving the unseen, I point out two other observations.
1. there seems to be a heck of a lot more demon / angel activity going on in the Bible than anyone I know has ever experienced.
2. every now and then, I'll hear something about missionaries dealing with spiritual forces of good and evil, but it's always in places like Africa or the Amazon.

My question is simple: Why?

The answer, I'm sure, is far more complicated, and I'll be glad to give you my thoughts - another night.

It's that Time Again (!)

A Van for all Seasons...

When she started smoking, we knew her time was short.

Our family mini-van "bit the big one" (as my Pa would say) just yesterday, and I write this in her honor. Sure she had problems with her high beams and was already over 250,000 miles, and sure she would lock the doors everytime you tried to unlock them manually...but it was a family fault we were all used to anyways. Kinda like us being used to the fact that Jenkins always wears his "Where is Pisgah?" shirt in public twice a week.

We went to Gatlinburg this weekend, and all the hills and stop and go traffic were more than she could handle. The thermostat apparently gave out on us and the radiator spat out all of the engine coolant, until finally, as Ma informed us, "she blew a gasket." I don't know what that means in van-terms, but it sounds pretty bad.
In her memory, here are some stories she brought to us:

Some six or seven years ago, it was time for the first-ever Fixed Point student retreat. We packed the foosball table in the back of our mini-van (this is Not a suggested way of using the back 2/3rds of any vehicle) and followed the Taunton's van of similar build. We were well aware of the fact that our particular make of mini-van was keen to give up early on the whole window-rolling-down bit, so when we pulled up next to the Tauntons in a parking lot, we opened the door to talk. What we were not well aware of was the fact that the Tauntons had the same problem with their mini-van....just on the opposite side. So we both stopped, both tried our windows and remembered they didn't roll down, and both opened our doors into each other's.
----
About the time we got the window thing fixed, we took our yearly trip to Vail, Colorado (this was probably five years later). In fact, I think this was just a few months ago...Anyways, it was time to leave and the snow had just decided to dump itself upon all the roads north of the southern state line. Most other families would have counted their losses and waited for the snow to melt enough for easy access to the highway, but no - not us. We had 23 hours more driving before we got home, and we were not about to let a little snowdrift impede our efforts. After several failed attempts to pick up speed and make it up the hill from our condo, we were forced into the most unusual activity: pushing the van up a snow-ridden slope. Five of us lined up at the bumper while Andy pushed the gas ever-so-slightly. "Slower! Slower! NOWW! Go, go goooooooooooooo!" This went on for some dozens of minutes, which included quite a few face plants in the snow and quite a lot of backwards progress. In the end, though, man conquered nature and our trusty van led us to victory once again.
----
Of course, yesterday was not the first time she smoked. Whether it was peer pressure or she was just curious ("just one smoke couldn't hurt me"), she had tried it once already sometime last autumn. This time, she was the beast of burden for our South Dakota/Canada road trip - a trip that would soon be characterized by busted radiators and 12 cups of coffee a day. This was the trip where Mitchell informed us of the genocide of cornstalks, where we met the world's largest pheasant, and where the border patrol man we lovingly named "Sasquatch" did everything he could to prevent us from making it across the Canadian border. This was the trip where our van decided to die as soon as we pulled into Denny's grandparent's driveway, and immediately began oozing green stuff out of the hood. We left it there and took the grandparent's car through South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and North Dakota before we found out that our friends at the van repair center were in no hurry to get us home. Well, we did make it home in time, thanks to Denny's awe-inspiring one-liners on the cell phone with car mechanics ("We're only missing one piece to our puzzle, and I think you have it."), and some fancy foot work with the new radiator supplier.
----
All that to say, this van's been good to us, and we're sad to see it go.

VBS Jollities

VBS for Cahaba Park Church just concluded tonight.  And for the two days I was there, 'twas a joyous occasion.

Day One:  One of the kids made two of the greatest VBS comments ever.  This was even more glorious than the time the people at Covenant misspelled "Gentle" and an entire crew of 8 year olds went around thinking they were the "Gentile Giraffes" for the first full day of Bible school.

It was music time and all the children had been called together by the music leader, who was looking for any way she could to get them excited about singing songs they'd never heard before.  

"Alright everyone!  It's music time (!), and we're about to sing...but I see just one thing wrong....what is it??"  She was hinting at the fact that everyone was still sitting down (a non-proper position for VBS songs, for the uninitiated).

Five-and-a-half year-old Jay boldly stepped forward to answer the question.  "We're all sinners!"

Later the same evening, Jay explained to us all that Joeys are baby kangaroos.

"Tell everyone what a Joey is, Jay."

"A Joey is a - a baby kangaroo."  He paused.  "And they're faster than a rabbit!"  Another pause, this time with some thought going into the next comment.  "...but they're Not faster than Jesus!"

Day Two:  The skit for the night was all about the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt.  Moses was about three years my senior with a beard about 40 years my senior and a hat that refused to stay on his scalp.  But these were minor difficulties compared to the Angel of Death, whose presence was supposed to bring with it all those dark and empty feelings typically associated with Angels of Death. This was working pretty well, actually, what with the hollow sounding music, the grim reaper halloween costume and the snarls coming from the lady's lower jaw....Until.  Sally on row two saw the strange facial resemblance of the dreadful spectre and could not contain herself.  "Mom?!" she was clearly excited at the discovery. "It's my mom!!"

We can only wonder.  Was it really the facial features she noticed, or is Sally just used to this sort of behavior from her ancestors?

What happens when you chat and play Canasta simultaneously...

thetalkingmouse

disgrace

mutesquirrel*

W-wha-?

thetalkingmouse

epic disgrace

mutesquirrel

What? WHAT?

thetalkingmouse

oh, not you

I'm playing canasta

mutesquirrel

Oooh.

Are you failing? 

:[

thetalkingmouse

I just made the most epic failure of a move I've seen since john brown

mutesquirrel

Oh wow. Sad day.

And I had no idea you were around in John Brown's day.

Well, there's always the chance to recover, now isn't there?

thetalkingmouse

if there was, it left me a long time ago

mutesquirrel

Good gracious.

thetalkingmouse

and denny just discarded a six

mutesquirrel

You sound so angsty.

Well, um...boo, Denny?

thetalkingmouse

hahahaha

yes 

I've moved from the state of depression to the state of...   [:0]

mutesquirrel

WOAH.

thetalkingmouse

whatever that means

mutesquirrel

death.

It means...

At least your not to -->   [:#] stage yet.

*you're

I just broke my cardinal grammar pet peave rule.

thetalkingmouse

willi wonka takes every single card I discard

mutesquirrel

I think the world might end.

Um...

Baaad Willi Wonka.

Only I thought it was spelled WIlly Wonka?

thetalkingmouse

mmmmm.....

bad day for us both, I see

mutesquirrel

Uh-huh.

thetalkingmouse

well, that's Willy

this is Willi

mutesquirrel

Oh. Well. Um, hello to Willi, then.

thetalkingmouse

hehehehe

he would say hello, but he doesn't speak to strangers

mutesquirrel

Well, good for him. His Mummy taught him well.

I hope he doesn't take candy from them, either.

thetalkingmouse

he does, actually

mutesquirrel

I see some inconsistent behavior. He ought to go reevaluate his life.

thetalkingmouse

wonka is taking candy from me right now

that's the problem

mutesquirrel

Boo.

This conversation is so ripe with metaphors. It astounds me.

thetalkingmouse

all from a game of canasta too

I *told* you to play more canasta

but no, you wouldn't believe me

mutesquirrel

I wouldn't?

I don't remember refusing to play more canasta...

I just remember some very colorful words exchanged about the game of Presidents.

thetalkingmouse

ha!

well, denisovich just ended the game

fortunately

this also meant the momentary end of my misery

mutesquirrel

Good. It was sounding awfully tragic.

thetalkingmouse

much rejoicing.

mutesquirrel

Quite. I was beginning to worry for all of your sakes. Sounded like a very messed-up crew.

:]

I'm going to Nashville tomorrow!

W-w-woo.

My cousin is graduation; and even though you don't know him from Adam, you should be proud.

thetalkingmouse

Nashville!

spiffiness

mutesquirrel

Quite.

It's one of my favorites.

thetalkingmouse

wait....

your cousin "is graduation"?

mutesquirrel

oops.

thetalkingmouse

talk about metaphors

oh

mutesquirrel

graduating.

Well...

I mean...

thetalkingmouse

I am proud

mutesquirrel

He *could* be graduation himself.

I dunno...

He can be secretive at times

Good. I'll let WIll know.

Actually, I won't.

That would be highly odd.

thetalkingmouse

and I'm also proud of Adam, by way

mutesquirrel

Really? Why so?

Most people tend to thing he really messed things up...

thetalkingmouse

well....he *was* first

man....

don't you know your old testament

mutesquirrel

He didn't have any say in that, though, did he?

thetalkingmouse

just forgotten old texts to you, huh?

he was the only human saying anything, if I recall

mutesquirrel

Yep. Completely left them to the dust bunnies.

Huh?

Humans spoke a lot in the old texts, if I remember correctly.

thetalkingmouse

not when it was just Adam

mutesquirrel

Ohmigosh.

That's just silly.

thetalkingmouse

well...I must be back to another game of canaster

hopefully the result this time will be less tragic

mutesquirrel

And I need sleep for Nashville.

I hope so, too.

thetalkingmouse

thanks for keeping me entertained

mutesquirrel

You can't afford another Epic Fail.

thetalkingmouse

night!

mutesquirrel

Indeed! Night!

*This person's true identity has been blurred so as to prevent lawsuits and other frivolous action...

The Halbrooks Compound Expands (!)

The rumors are true.  While I was away in England, my family launched another campaign against the "good fences make good neighbors" types, and insodoing, increased the Halbrooks boundaries by 46%.  Hailed as our greatest territorial gain in some 30 years, I have attached a diagram to help explain the situation to the uninitiated:

(If that illustration does not explain the entire situation to you at first glance, you may want to have some words with Rand McNally, who labeled this drawing "the achievement of a lifetime").

Now, with one eye on the diagram (so wonderfully drawn by the artistic mastermind that lives in the basement), and one eye on this here text, follow me as I explound.  If you only have one eye, I apologize.  You are simply out of luck.

---

It was a cool, dim-lit April afternoon when it all started.  Higgins was frolicking in the backyard with imaginary sheep, Ma was knittin a new rug for the old chimney, Daddy Buck was talking to all of his relatives at the same time from inside Aunt Dee's car somewhere on 280 (via Skype), and Jenkins was raiding the local grocer for a bag of swedish fish.  But where was Pa?  As the old saying goes, "Pa does the fishin' where the wombat does the wishin'"  

And on this day, the saying was true.

With a can of his favorite carbonated fermented milk soft drink (melon flavoured) and a single vertebrae of a Camarasaurus, the neighbors were no match for his fury.  He paced the perimeter, slid through the loose gate, and waltzed into their living room with a maniacal set of facial features.  In less than 24 hours, the neighbors had all but fled the civilized world, and the house - well, the house was Ours.

---

No.  Sadly, that's not how it really happened.  But as the diagram clearly demonstrates, we *did* purchase the house behind ours, and we *did* knock down the fence in between our yards, and we *are* moving in this very weekend.  Only the gray area on the map is unconquered.  When we do take it over (which will only take a matter of time, if things continue as they have), it will become grazing land for all the sheep I ever wanted.  

That way, Higgins will no longer have to frolic among imaginary friends.

The First *Overwhelming* Experience...

That's right.  

I have returned to my goodly home in the states and have already felt the pangs of culture shock down my spinal column.  And of all the places: Moe's.

While Moe's Knows Burritos, Moe's does Not know how to keep a man who's spent the last four months in Europe as comfortable as he'd like.  Here's the deal:  I came back to the states the day before yesterseve and had a glorious reunion with my family, complete with Mexican food from Habeñeros, which I've been craving all this time (prior to that, I scarfed an o-so-tasty milkshake from Chick-fil-a, which I had not craved, but should have).  So far, all was good.  I was still resetting my circadian rhythm and getting used to the fact that I had four wheels I could put to use whenever and wherever, but other than that I was melding back into American culture like horse carrying a bucket with two stones and a bird.

Until.  

I showed up at Latimer House yesterday (not to be confused with Vladimir House) and Benji and I decided to head to Moe's for lunching and munching.  And lunch and munch we did, though I was, as they say, in fear and trembling.  Why?  I will attempt to explain.

When we walked in, I became aware of three things:

1. everyone there was caucasian, except for the one guy who was about to cook Ben's Phil E. ("the only decent thing on the menu," Jenkins informed me)

2. everyone said things like "y'all" and "corn-fritter"

the third revelation was the worst, though...

3.  I suddenly became aware that here, in the heart of Mountain Brook amongst fellow Moe's eaters, I could, at any moment run into any number of people who knew me.

This does not sound like something that should terrify a reasonable child past the age of 4.  However, you must understand.  Being in Europe with twelve other students for four months conditions you to know, on any given moment, where the other twelve are.  So when you go into a cafe with three of them, you know you'll never meet anyone else in that cafe again probably for the rest of your life.  Before long, this sense of invisibility becomes natural, and you never have to walk into a restaurant and look around to see if Jimbo-from-Middle-school had the idea to chaw a corndog at the same time you did.

At Moe's in Birmingham, Alabama, though, this whole unobtrusive stunt is foiled altogether.  Not only could Jimbo be sitting in the corner, some guy who knew you 12 years ago could pop outta nowhere and ask you why you haven't cut your hair in the past month and a half.  So you know, this proposition is enough to make a person with the same personality as Machiavelli cower in the shadows.  

So as soon as I ordered my Joey Bag of Donuts, that's exactly what I did.