An Ear For Passion

As I consider all my varied interests, I can not help but see a silver thread running through their center. When it comes to enjoying the things around us, especially the arts, it helps to have a little inspiration.

The list of things that I have pursued because of the passion that I saw in someone else is long. I began listening to Ben Harper because of my brother Quentin. My favorite books,The Lord of the Rings series, came to my attention, through my brother Tyler's interest in The Hobbit. I have a growing interest in classical music that is being fueled by the unbridled passion of my third brother Trevor (and, in fairness, Pastor Nathan). Our families (clearly my brothers) tend to have a big impact on us. The sources for our sorted passions, however, can be as diverse as they are.

If you listen to the people around you in life you can absorb all sorts of bits. My third grade teacher Mrs. Dunn would read Roald Dahl books aloud to us in class, and they remain my favorite children's books. I have worked with various people who speak two languages, and I am convinced that I will learn Spanish and German before I die. Outside of teachers and co-workers, we can brush up against the passionate people that surround us each day. Even an acquaintance, like a man named John from culinary school, can declare that "Fleetwood Mac was almost too good" and thereby raise your awareness. (Go listen to the bass line 3/4 of the way through "The Chain" and you might agree with him). Without the input of these people I may never have found all of these great things. The only thing that is required is that you listen. The people in your life want to tell you, just listen.

We have an independent spirit in us that wants to strike out on it's own. We want to be the first to hear the newest greatest band. I would never have you cease to learn of the world around you. When you consider the ridiculous amount of information in the world it is overwhelming. Here is an idea, let those around you sort some of it out for you. The cream rises to the top, and some passionate fan will be there expounding on it's virtues when it breaks the surface. Just listen and be inspired.

- Posted from my iPhone

Battle over Battleground

Do you love Battleground? Many people do. I am not one of them. I would argue that you are probably not one of them either (even if you think you are).

I have a theory that when someone tells you that they love Battleground, what they mean is that they love a romantic idea of Battleground. The Battleground that they love has ceased to exist. It left long before Fred Meyer came to town.

I have lived in Woodland for 6 and 1/2 years. I love Woodland. We have all the small town appeal that is romanticized by the masses. In many ways, we are more like the "Battleground" that you love than Battleground.

When I was a kid we used to ride our bikes from Hockinson to BG. I loved that Battleground. It was Safeway, Burgerville, a high school, a library, Rocky's Pizza, and Dicks Tire Factory. And, later, it was McDonalds too.

In Woodland we currently have a McDonalds, a Burgerville, a pizza place, a High School, a Library...sound familiar? We even have a burgeoning population of Old Apostolics. We are enjoying the fruits of small town SW Washington longed for by our easterly neighbors.

According to City-data.com Battleground's population has increased 84.8% since 2000. In 2009 the population was over 17,000. Compare this to Woodland's population of 5,300 (again for 2009). All those people... And, trying to use infrastructure that was built to accommodate 7,000. Battleground is a mess. It grew too fast, and spent too little planning for that growth.

The Battleground of today is a frustrating quagmire of strip malls and failing retail. The traffic is fantastically terrible. Ask one of BG's cultish followers about traffic, and even the faithful will bob their heads in agreement over it's barbarous nature.

During my short (second) stint living in BG I was excited to see growth. I was thrilled when we got Albertson's and Hollywood Video. I thought it was what I wanted. It was the beginning of the end for that little hole in the map.

In case my arguments were wholly persuasive, I should add a proviso. I feel we may be on the cusp of the same mistakes in Woodland. I was excited to be getting a drive-thru Starbucks and a Walmart, but I pray that our city planners will be more wise about the coming years than their counterparts in the big BG. I think that either way we are in the twilight of our golden years.

Hey, there is always La Center...



- Posted from my iPhone

How Unfortunate

It was Tuesday night and I found myself in the unfortunate limbo of not having enough time to go home, and eat with my family, before my post-work obligations for the day. As a result I went through Panda Express drive-thru. (to those of you who are dismayed that a chef is eating fast food, please remember that I am a working professional and I find myself eating quick cheap food on a regular basis)

I am conflicted on Panda Express. It seems to me that it is cornering the Chinese food market by delivering a consistent, mediocre, product in a clean atmosphere. This isn't terrible if that is all you are looking for. The danger of course is that it leaves too small a market share for traditional "mom and pop" type restaurants. These local restauranteurs have often protected excellent family recipes for years only to find themselves without a customer base to serve. You could say that they have done it to themselves by too often neglecting the cleanliness of their establishments, or something else entirely. The subject is, honestly, too large and warrants a blog all it's own. The point of this post centers around the fortune that I found in my cookie.

My fortune read: Your principles mean more to you than any money or success.





This is a fine sentiment. It seems designed to build up my ego and make an easy excuse for my egregious poverty. In many ways it is a lie. Truth is I have never truly been given the choice between my principles and money. My initial reaction was to place it on my rearview mirror and pat myself on the back every time I checked traffic for a lane change. However, It began to gnaw at me almost immediately after I placed it in it's seat of glory.

In the first chapter of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's book Life Together there is a sentence that reads thus: Our righteousness is an "alien righteousness" a righteousness that comes from outside of us (extra nos). Truth is, I am not so principled that I am above success or the pursuit of money. I spend copious amounts of my life chasing after unholy manna. My principles/priorities are God, Family, Country. If you look closely you will see that I probably spend more time on the baser principles of Cafe Today, Football, and iPhones. Not because I am making a conscious decision to place these things above the things that are truly important, but I probably do. Here I can honestly echo the words of the apostle Paul: For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. (Romans 7:15).

Sadly my abject poverty cannot be blamed on my pious behavior. I would love to be able to paint myself the holy martyr for principles in an immoral society, but the reality is much less noble. Like many in my field I simply struggle to turn bring home a decent paycheck. I can not hide behind a flimsy piece of paper with Lotto numbers printed on the back.
- Posted from my iPhone

A Networked Society

Recently I have joined the ranks of the Facebook friendly. This is a big deal. Maybe not to you, but it is monumental for me. It is one of the things that I made the mistake of saying "never" about. I truly was never going to Facebook.

My 180• turn on this issue has me in contemplative mood. I have been delving deeper into what motivates myself and others to use this and other social networking sites.

I know why I initially joined Facebook. Ostensibly it was to give myself access in order to start a page for work. My Cafe Today location could use a little more exposure, and I volunteered my time to make that happen. So, joining was easy. Then I started "friending" people.

Make "friends" on Facebook is easy too. The act of clicking on the "send friend request" button takes no time at all. The thing is, I quickly realized that there was more to it than that. My mind tells me that linking my personal information with another person through a public website is simply one more exchange of 1's and 0's that we see all around us everyday. For some strange reason, however, actively seeking out people that I know was more impacting than I anticipated. For most of my "new friends" we never even exchanged words, and yet during the process I continued to hear the old AT&T tag-line "Reach out and touch someone" in my head. I could feel myself reconnecting emotionally with memories I had of these people, some of whom I haven't talked to in years.

It occurred to me that this was a big part of it. Notice what I just said at the end of the last paragraph. I was connecting to the memories that I had, not the people themselves. Connecting to friends was a nostalgic walk down memory lane. I have been very busy lately, and it felt good to stop down and reconnect ( even if only nominally), to people that I have known in my life. A rare reason to slow down and reminisce.

Today I was reading Burton Farley's travel blog which I found through a link that he posted on Facebook. Things like this make me realize that, going forward I believe Facebook could be a valuable tool for someone like me. I look on this, sort of distant fellowship with others, with blissful ignorance today. Skeptics might say that it could rob me of my motivation for real human interaction with these people, but before I simply had no contact. I did not know Burt and Christine were even in Norway, for example. So, as of now, I will soak up the experience and hope that I will have more common ground with my "friends" the next time we chance to meet in person.



- Posted from my iPhone

Spare the Change

The other day I came across a random Mexican coin that came back with us from one of our trips. It crossed my mind to throw it away like so many unwanted trinkets, but I resisted the urge. I'm not sure why.

The fact is, I found that I have a psychological aversion to junking currency. It isn't just Mexican coins that I have spared from a dark demise. I have found myself shuffling around others such as a Franc, and various Canadian coins at different times. Even the American Penny has extremely little actual worth, but I don't pitch them either.

It isn't my desire to become a coin collector. I usually just end up place them here and there until they get lost anyway. No, it is something else.

As a child it was not uncommon for me to witness my parents scrounging up spare change to find a way to pay for gas or a gallon of milk. I certainly have found myself doing a lot of the same in my adult life. One theory I have, is that being broke simply teaches you the value of small change. Only, that doesn't explain why I would save a single French "penny". You can't exchange that small of an amount of money, and I have no plans to travel internationally in the near future.

Another theory is that it feels disrespectful to throw away money in particular. Like making a snap judgement on the economies of the countries who back these coins. Declaring that these coins will forever remain valued at next to nothing. However, this theory seems far-fetched (even for a lighthearted blog article).

The other possibility is that I recognize the intrinsic value of a metal coin. On some level the ore mined and processed to make these coins has value no matter what border you cross. This too, is a thin argument. I don't have a forge for melting down metal. I also don't know of a metal recycling place where you can turn in a quarter of an ounce at a time.

My final theory is that i am simply exercising my packrat instincts. I tend to save things. (Somewhere Diana is nodding her head emphaticlly in agreement) I am working on it, but the reasons people store things are many and it is a particularly difficult habit to kick.

I suppose the real reason for my actions is a kaleidoscope view of many of the things miss-mashed together. We are complicated beings.

- Posted from my iPhone

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