British Petroleum

Need another reason to never buy crappy ARCO gas? They are the major distributers of BP gas in the States. I'm no enviromentalist but BP looks pretty bad about now.

You know who is a BP fan right now? Exxon. The Valdez spill is starting to look like no big deal.


- Posted from my iPhone

Just Another Saturday

Last Saturday I had to work. This led to a series of interesting events.

For those of you who do not know, I work in downtown Portland. Portland is not that big of a city, but the people who live there would really like it to be. As a result, they do a lot of stupid things. Speaking of stupid things, it was Gay Pride Weekend. But, before I get into that I would like to back up to give you the full timeline of my day.

In the morning we went to a parade in Woodland. It was a little sad. Parades are supposed to be a celebration of prosperity in the community. A real source of civic pride. Unfortunately, with the down economy, it felt hackneyed and threadbare.

Following our appearance at the parade, I went to work. Unfortunately they were replacing the roll-up door in the parking garage which forced me to park three blocks away. This is when I encountered the Gay Pride movement. It was a group made up of the fashionably unhappy. I guess they were protesting the fact that they live in an extremely liberal city with an openly gay mayor. They probably feel that people no longer respect the trials they must go through. Also, someone suggested that they had combined this with an Anti-Police Violence Rally. I just saw a bunch of selfish whiners blocking my way to work.

Once I finally waded through the throngs of limp-wristed protesters, I had to cook for a dinner party. It was a repeat of a menu that I had served at another home for Cinco De Mayo. This meant that I had a clear plan, but it got a little crazy because my schedule was compacted by being unable to get in to the building on time. I spent an hour and a half cooking, and it went pretty good. For those who are curious the menu was as follows:

Pollo Pablano with fresh tortillas

Pork Carnitas Mini Taco Bar with authentic trimmings

Bay Shrimp Tostadas with Pineapple Mango Salsa topped with Cilantro Lime Crema

Fresh Fruit Skewers

Spicy SW Artichoke Dip

Fresh Chips with Salsa and Guacamole

Following preparation, I had to retrieve my car so I could load up and make my delivery. Once again I was unable to use the garage so I was forced to load curbside. Because of the official nature of the building I work in, security is pretty tight. In order for me to load my catering out the side door there had to be a security officer standing watch. To be clear I was loading half a block away from the afore mentioned protest. This made the security officer nervous. We had protesters, lines of police on bikes (see the above picture), and police on horses 100 feet in front of us and lines of police in riot gear 200 feet behind us.

Once I got out of downtown I had to make the delivery. This particular party was in Portland's West Hills. This is a affluent part of Portland, and our customers on that day were obviously successful. This isn't that shocking or significant other than the contrast it presented to the scene I had just left. I went from pushing my way through a bunch of ne'er-do-wells to chatting up a lively bunch of socialites.

As a bookend to my kaleidoscope day I returned to our home town Planters Day festival. We took our beautiful children to the carnival and enjoyed an easy paced evening.

I hope this post doesn't read to much like a lame journal entry. I was simply struck by the queer (wink) events of the day.

As I finish this, the second half of U.S. vs Ghana is on and if the U.S. can pull out a win perhaps my next post will be about this Saturday.


- Posted from my iPhone

The More You Know

I used to scoff at the idea of a car company advertising intermittent windsheild wipers in this day and age. I put it in the same category as motels that have reader boards advertising color television. Now I am driving a car whose wipers have two settings: on or off. How did I allow myself to grow so egotistical? Why did I think I was so smart and the advertising executives were so old-hat? I have a clear record of being wrong about lots of things, and I should know better than to look down on others by now.

A few years ago I realized that my favorite Coldplay song was actually not a Coldplay song, but in fact it was-"Funeral" by Band of Horses. I was living under the assumption that Paul Harvey was a black man until someone called me on it and I found out that he was as vanilla as they come. It took me years to figure that horizon is pronounced "her-rise-in" and not "whore-a-zon". I was mortified, the first time I ever played the basketball game PIG, when my playmates informed me that I had to pee (They were trying to tell me that I had a "P"). Trust me, my list of wrongs is very long.

We all have lists like this I suppose. It is good to remember that the beginning of wisdom is realizing how little we truly know.


- Posted from my iPhone

Santa Biblia

I have been recklessly neglecting the reading of scripure lately. The other night I was inspired to read, however, and I was truly blessed by what I read. I read Matthew chapter 11 and the corresponding story in Luke 7:11. I felt compelled to paraphrase it here for you. I think I am harbouring a distant hope that you will feel inspired to dust off your copy of The Good Book next, and maybe even point me toward some highlight of your own.

We start with a really cool scene that talks about Jesus having compassion on this greif-stricken woman who had lost her son and is already a widow. He says to her "Do not weep", and then He promptly turns, goes over, and brings the young man back from the dead. An awesome display of understated power to be sure.

The story of this Resurrection and other miracles make their way back to John the Baptist. John is feeling down and is stuck in prison. He sends out his friends to figure out if Jesus is the real McCoy. Specifically he gives them a question, "Are you 'The One who is to come' or shall we look for another?". Miracles are fine, but John wants to know if Jesus is The Messiah. John's emissaries are shown a dizzying display of God's power. More to the point Jesus fulfills very detailed prophecy concerning himself in front of their eyes. After His incredible display Jesus goes back to them and tells them to go tell John that he is the fullfillment of the prophecies.

John's disciples were not the only ones who were watching Jesus on this day. There was a whole crowd there and the crowd was aware of John's people, and their purpose. Our Saviour sends John's disciples on their way, and what follows is a loose speech by The Christ with a fantastically conversational tone. These are the moments in the Gospels that tend to catch my eye and curiosity. I love seeing examples of how human Jesus Christ really was.

He addresses the crowd again, maybe he sees them all peering after John's guys walking away, and He starts talking about John. I get the feeling that people were wondering why he went out of his way to send such a sure message to John the Baptist. So He asks them a string of rhetorical questions: "What did you go out into the wilderness to see?", "A reed shaken by the wind?", "A man dressed in soft clothing?", "A prophet?". There, that's the one. He takes it one step further. Jesus tells them that John is more than a prophet. In fact, at the time he was the greatest man ever born of a woman. (This has a polarizing effect on the people. The ones who were baptized were excited by it. The ones who weren't said that it was all a bunch of phooey). He then calls them out for whining like a bunch of spoiled kids who are never pleased.

In true paradoxical form, Jesus then switches things up making grand sweeping statements. He warns the cities, that he has performed miracles in, that they should not harden their hearts. Saying to one city that they are even worse than Sodom.

He ends his speech with reassuring words of comfort for those of us who believe: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

I said earlier that I like reading scriptures like these ones because they display how human Jesus really was. In truth, that is only half of it. What makes the story so fascinating is the continual display of the complexity of His nature. He performs wondrous signs, and then he is graciously, and beautifully condescending to us with plain speech.

The Bible is the living Word of God, and we must be careful not to take it for granted. Let us all try to remember what an incredible gift it truly is.



- Posted from my iPhone

Every Cat Has A Silver Lining

Ever since that fateful November day, when the American people clamored for King Obama, I have witnessed a lot of people living in a bit of a pall.

We should be looking on the bright side! Having a democrat president has it's moments. For instance, anti-Bush songs are no longer cool and relevant. Another positive is that anti-war movies have to be more tempered so they don't come off as racist criticism of our black president. One final benefit is that old jokes and gags about president Clinton started sounding relevant again.

We have waited eight years to laugh at well timed jokes with democrats as the butts. I will get you started with one of my favorite cartoon characters of all time Eek! the Cat.

Now go recycle your own jokes. It's all about being green right?

- Posted from my iPhone

Advise Me, Please

I remember when Jagged Little Pill came out when I was a teenager. Alanis Morrisette singing "It's the good advice that you just didn't take". There is always that eternal question "Do I go with my gut, or do I follow their advice?". Going into new situations we all carry with us preconceived notions and basic strategies. Wisdom suggests that there is a time to stick to the plan, but you also must be willing to discard that plan and go with the flow.

In fantasy baseball this week I saw evidence of this. My benevolent father and big brother showered me with advice. They could see that my team was floundering and they wanted to help. I humbly instituted their ideas, ignoring my own. Right away I was fifteen points further in the hole than I would have been if I had stuck to my guns. So how do you know? In this scenario they had the on-field knowledge of the players and their statistics. What do I know? I had just lost the first three games of the season after all.

I recently started a new job. I was full of confidence in my abilities. I have run my own catering business. I have formal culinary training in cooking and restaurant management. And yet, here was a new company, and a new set of parameters to work in. So how do you know? When do you abandon your original strategy for success? Clearly I need to listen to the experienced people who surround me and have already learned the ropes, but to what extent?

The marriage advice flows like milk and honey when you near the promised lands, and when Diana and I got married the advice flooded in from all over. Before we were married someone said that they thought we should try living together first. Then there were lots of suggestions on how to get through the terrible first six months, then the first year, then the first five years (none of which were terrible for us).

Nothing elicits advice like having kids does. Do you want a closer bond between you and all the familial relations that you assumed were dead long ago? Have a couple babies. We were blessed with boundless advice from- "Put a little rice cereal in her bottle" to- "You have to pick your battles".

Advice is a fickle friend, no doubt. It seems to help and harm in equal portions. Listening to good natured advice rarely hurts. We all have to draw our own line in the sand as to when listening turns to implementing those pearls of wisdom. We would be remiss to never translate some of their advice into reality in an attempt to make our lives better in some way, and we would be fools if we didn't let a large part of it go in one ear and out the other.





- Posted from my iPhone

Tiptoe Through The Tulips

It is tulip time in Woodland. Benno Dobbe and his family put on a tulip festival each year at the Holland America Bulb Farms. The striking beauty of those flowers put me in a reflective mood.

The Reflector ran a bio-piece on Benno Dobbe a couple years back detailing his move here from Holland as a young boy. These days Mr. Dobbe is a prominent figure in Woodland and his business is a cornerstone of the community. All I remember about the piece is that it was interesting and that Benno has genuine Dutch roots.

When you stroll down the rows of tulips, basking in their glory, it is easy to forget how much work truly goes into getting their fragile petals in full bloom. I found myself pondering how impressive it was that these flowers have such vivid colors and come in so many varieties. For a moment I even slipped into thinking "I can't believe all this happens in nature". Then I corrected myself. It wasn't without work and trials. I had the opportunity to read The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas awhile back, and I was surprised by this window into Dutch history. The cultivation, research, and old-time politics needed to develop the existing breeds of tulips is jaw dropping.

Stretching past the tulip's deep historic roots into present day, I witnessed firsthand some of the blood, sweat, and tears that goes into this plant's survival. A couple years ago my company ran a food booth at the tulip festival and it stressed me out to see some of the "backstage" posturing involved with producing a successful crop of cut tulips. Not least of which is the wildly unpredictable weather in April. When we were there it was 80 degrees one weekend and another weekend they had the sonic cannon out to break up hail while it was still in the clouds (a hailstorm can wipe out an entire crop, each crystalline lump leaving a blemish on the soft blooms). In the gospel according to Matthew chapter 6, Jesus instructs us to "Consider the lilies of the field" and he reminds us that they "neither toil, nor spin". Well, those lazy lilies might not toil or spin but tulips on the other-hand are real workhorses.

I am struggling to find a moral to my story. I think I wanted to say something about the Protestant work ethic  or being good stewards of our blessings, or maybe that we should stop and smell the roses (err.. Tulips). Perhaps we shall leave it open like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book from when I was a kid...



p.s. for some ukelele fun and insight into the title of this post watch this video

- Posted from my iPhone