Beasts in the Night

Recently, while surfing for a few programs to record on DVR I saw that an episode of "The Night Stalker" was being aired. I remember enjoying this show when I was a teenager, it was kind of an early prototype of the X-Files. Rather than being a boring, monotonous figure like Mulder (even the name sounds bland), Carl Kolchak was a reporter of many depths exploring unexplainable events. Well, the show was an updated remakes of the original, but the pilot show that I recorded was about beasts in the night. And it was pretty good!

We had a bout with beasts ourselves in the middle of the night last week. Sherry had gotten up to let Mr. Cash (the kitty with no relation to Johnny) out, and apparently there were a few raccoons reconnoitering our residence. Suddenly, Kadie (the treasured family dog) became aware of the little beasts and charged out the door snarling and growling.

I was fast asleep when like the song goes "up on the rooftop there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter". I awoke to hear Sherry screeaaaaming, the dog snarling, and a big old fight going on. We live in a tri-level home, and I bolted out of bed like a duck on a June bug. Running down to the back porch, there was this incredible racket as Kadie and the raccoon(s?) were locked in full battle. I couldn't see a thing, and then remembered that in my haste I had forgotten my glasses. I ran back upstairs and got my glasses, then ran back down to the backyard. By that time the war had moved to the side of the house, and Sherry yelled for me to open the garage door. I ran back into the house, down the stairs to the first floor tripping on the last step (thankfully the last step) and stubbed my toe.

Sherry's intent in the heat of the moment was to maneuver Kadie into the garage and then grab something (such as ripping the bumper off of her car) and smashing the raccoon into a greasy spot on the pavement (you don't get between Sherry and her dog). Well, the fight moved back around to the side of the house and Sherry was still screaming. I ran back up the stairs and to the back of the house, but by that time the raccoon had vanished.

We each checked out Kadie separately to double check for wounds but didn't find anything. The next morning though she (Kadie, not Sherry) was unusually lethargic. She was laying on her side and then we noticed a fairly good gash on her haunch, and some bite marks on her stomach. That made sense, as the raccoon being smaller than Kadie was underneath her at times during the scrap.

Kadie is current on her shots, but Sherry took her to the vet to make sure all was good. They put her on antibiotics for a week and she bounced back the next day.

I went into the yard the next day curious to see if I could see evidence of the fight. Kind of a CSI:Tigard. Well, unfortunately there was a casualty. Laying in pieces on the back landing (our yard is on two levels) were the remains of our small portable barbecue. The handle had been shattered, and the lid bent beyond repair. The grill was about three feet away. At first I thought maybe that's what the raccoons were after, trying to drag away the barbecue. I mentioned it to Sherry, and she said that in her coming to Kadie's defense she picked up the barbecue, and with all her strength flung it at the raccoon.

Like I said, it's not good to get between Sherry and her dog.

Rock the boat, don't rock the boat baby....

I used to travel frequently for my job, and love to read. Combining those two things, I once fell into a habit of looking for and reading novels about plane crashes.

Not sure if and/or why I had succumbed to such a nefarious temptation, but perhaps it was an inverse reaction to my fearlessness of flying (take that, Erica Jong). I've always felt safe, perhaps even invulnerable; as I shrouded my fragile human form cargo with an impenetrable engineering marvel with double and triple redundancies as it shot me across the sky at hundreds of miles an hour (yes, there is a lousy attempt at sarcasm there).

I always felt lulled at takeoff, sometimes even slumbering through the first round of cabin service. If you too are a frequent traveler, you may remember that particular moaning sound of an Airbus 320 as it claws it's way into the sky. It's easy to imagine the popping of a rivet due to the airframe stress, and then in slow motion seeing that rivet being ingested by the powerful jet engine. The turbofan blades are torn apart in a shrieking cacaphony of tortured metal. Ooops! There I go again. I was reading a portion of Crichton's masterpiece "Airframe" once out loud to a friend who happened to be on the same flight and he almost got airsick (Steve, aren't you glad this wasn't you?).

Well, recently the Miami Herald reported that dozens of passengers were injured when the new Crown Princess cruise ship suddenly listed after leaving Port Canaveral. The article reports that:

"Chaos and panic engulfed the young Crown Princess ship Tuesday when it listed drastically to its left, throwing passengers and crew to the floor. Two people were critically injured, including a child, officials said. A dozen more suffered serious injuries and about 70 had lesser injuries. No deaths were reported, and the U.S. Coast Guard said all passengers and crew have been accounted for. The accident, apparently a result of problems with the ship's steering equipment, happened at 3:25 p.m. about 11 miles off the Florida coast as the Crown Princess sailed toward New York."

While I could make some witty sarcastic remark about attributing the disaster to Martha Stewart's christening of the ship with her legendary anger and shattering the champagne bottle so hard that the structural integrity of the ship was compromised, I'll refrain and point out something even more bizarre.

Believe it or not, the feature film scheduled for that night on the ship was the movie....Titanic.

The devel made me do it

I didn't make up that title, but I love it.

It was reported that a vandal was captured in the act of applying graffiti to a church. Now, I'm not suggesting a correlation between Satanism and illiteracy, but one of the phrases stated "Happy Birthday Satin".

Perhaps he (the vandal) truly had an affection for textiles and had intended to also wish cotton & polyester well on their special day before he was apprehended.

Handling Stress

Stress.

It seems to be prevalent in our culture today, and a lot of it seems to originate from our jobs. People respond to job stress in different ways, some of them healthy and some not so healthy. One thing that helps me is exercise. When I run or cycle, I sometimes disassociate from the exertion and think about stuff. Sometimes I think deep thoughts about God and theology. At other times I think of the social upheaval and re-establishing of relationships on Gilligan's Island if the Brady Bunch joined the castaways.

Sometimes I think about work, and actually come up with creative solutions to problems or challenges. "Sick!" you may cry, but it is a peaceful resolution. On average, I come up with 1.7 solutions per mile. I should start running marathons.

Well, other people deal with jobs in, shall we say; an unhealthy way? From the July 9 Des Moine Register reporter Clark Kauffman reports that:

An Iowa judge has denied unemployment benefits to a man who claimed discrimination after being fired from an ethanol plant for drinking "automobile fuel" produced by the company. Cory Neddermeyer, 42, was fired in April from Amazing Energy in Denison, where he worked as a maintenance technician. The company produces ethanol fuel for vehicles in a formula that includes a high concentration of alcohol. Neddermeyer was fired after an April 21 incident at the Denison plant. According to Neddermeyer, he showed up for work that morning and saw that there had been a spill of fuel alcohol. Hundreds of gallons of 190-proof alcohol were contained in a 6-inch-deep holding pond that was about 30 feet by 24 feet.

It proved to be too much to resist for a recovering alocholic, and Neddermeyer

"..thought about the availability of this alcohol throughout the day. Curious about the taste and its effects, I dipped into this lake of liquor and drank what I considered to be 2 to 3 ounces. The next thing I remember is waking up in Crawford County Memorial Hospital."

He had been found by his co-workers in an incoherent state, unable to say his name or the day of the week. He was taken to a hospital, where his blood-alcohol level, according to state records, was reported at 0.72 - nine times the legal limit for driving, and almost double the level that is considered potentially fatal for many adults.

How strong is 190-proof alcohol? "Proof" is twice the percentage of alcohol in a beverage. For example, a drink that is 40 percent alcohol would be 80 proof. Pure alcohol is 200 proof. Most American wine is 18 to 28 proof. The fuel-alcohol Cory Neddermeyer drank was 190 proof, or 95 percent alcohol. Neddermeyer was fired, and I'm still stunned that he was denied unemployment benefits, but he is getting 'help' for his addiction.

Or take the case of a man right here in Portland, Oregon who went to a hospital complaining of a headache was found to have 12 nails embedded in his skull from a suicide attempt with a nail gun, doctors say. Surgeons removed the nails with needle-nosed pliers and a drill, and the man survived with no serious lasting effects, according to a report on the medical oddity in the current issue of the Journal of Neurosurgery.

The unidentified 33-year-old man was suicidal and high on methamphetamine last year when he fired the nails — up to 2 inches in length — into his head one by one. As reported through the Associated Press:

The nails were not visible when doctors first examined the man in the emergency room of an unidentified Oregon hospital a day later. Doctors were surprised when X-rays revealed six nails clustered between his right eye and ear, two below his right ear and four on the left side of his head. The man at first told doctors he had had a nail gun accident, but later admitted it was a suicide attempt.

I think I'll keep running.

Katharine Jefferts Schori

Time magazine (July 17, 2006 issue) contains an interview with Katharine Jefferts Schori, who just became the Presiding Bishop-Elect of the Episcopal Church of the U.S.A. It was very interesting to read, and so that my comments are not taken out of context you can read the interview here (registration required). As you probably are aware, Schori has become a lightning rod for her position on homosexuality. But, the interview included other questions that elicited insightful responses.

Several of these questions and her responses intrigued me, so I'll copy those questions to Schori, document her responses, then I'll add my responses to her responses, and if you are not asleep by that point I'll finish with a bit of commentary! That will surely finish you off. I'll state up front that it is hard to reconstruct her worldview from a few quick interview questions, but I think we can quickly grasp her emphasis and what she desires the church to be.

What will be your focus as head of the U.S. church?

Schori: Our focus needs to be on feeding people who go to bed hungry, on providing primary education to girls and boys, on healing people with AIDS, on addressing tuberculosis and malaria, on sustainable development. That ought to be the primary focus.

Dave: These are admirable goals, and are freed from ambiguity. It makes me think of Matthew 5:16 - "let your light shine before men in such a way that they see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven". What seems to be missing from Schori's response though is God!

The Westminster Shorter Catechism asks "what is the chief end of man"? The answer is "Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever". Jesus said in John 10:37 "If I do not do the works of My Father, do not believe Me...". Perhaps she is making the assumption that the interviewer and reader would take the stance of a relationship with God as the foundation and from that foundation the social focus would be primary. However, that stretches into eisegesis (reading into the text, rather than drawing out from the text). She is clear about her primary focus.

Now this is just a sound bite from Schori, but from this snippet I would think that the primary focus should be to know and bring glory to God, and out of this relationship we show our concern and compassion in tangible ways.

Is belief in Jesus the only way to get to heaven?

Schori: We who practice the Christian tradition understand him as our vehicle to the divine. But for us to assume that God could not act in other ways is, I think, to put God in an awfully small box.

Dave: Fascinating response - surely God is bigger than we could ever understand and His creativity is seen in, but also transcends; this space, time and dimension we live in. But the revelation of God and the plan for getting to heaven (i.e. salvation) is clearly communicated. But none other than Jesus himself seems to indicate that there is a "small box" - in Matthew 7:13 Jesus exhorts us to:

"Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it."

In John 14:6 Jesus makes this startling and exclusionary profession (John 14:6) "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life - no man comes to the Father except by me". On the cross, Jesus makes a reference that it (the plan of redemption) is finished (John 19:30).

If the small box analogy must be used, I think a modified response might be something like "rather than think that the way to salvation exists in a small box, as Christians we focus on what is inside the box. We find that in opening that little box, that it seems endless in the marvels it contains." We look at at scriptures like this and find our hope expressed:

"that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man." (Ephesians 3:16)

"Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways!" (Romans 11:33)

Do you have a favorite Bible verse?

Schori: Chapter 61 of Isaiah is an icon for me of what Christian work should be about. That's what Jesus reads in His first public act. In Luke, he walks into the synagogue and reads from Isaiah. It talks about a vision of the reign of God where those who are mourning are comforted, where the hungry are fed, where the poor hear good news.

Dave: I love that passage, what a vivid and inspiring vision. When Jesus quoted Isaiah in Luke, he finishes by stating that "The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him, and he began by saying to them, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." Can you imagine the scene? The news of Jesus had been spreading like wildfire, the chat rooms and texting filled the whole countryside of Galilee. Jesus then makes this bold statement, and all eyes are riveted upon him. He just claimed to be The One! My point is that although we acknowledge the compassion, we cannot separate the message from the Messiah.

Here then is my commentary:

I admire Schori's goals, but there is something missing to me. Do you sense it too? To me, her vision is horizontal - focused on man. When Jesus was challenged in Matthew 22 by the Jewish sect known as the Pharisees (teachers and expositors of the Old Testament law) who asked him what was the greatest commandment, Jesus quoted from the passage known as the Shema (Deuteronomy 6). This passage was central to the Jewish faith, and Jesus quotes verse 5 which states that we must "Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength". That response alone would have satisfied the Pharisees, and justified their attempts at living a legalistic lifestyle.

Returning to Matthew 22 But Jesus goes on to qualify his response: "This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Schori seems to have gotten the order reversed, mankind first and then God. But she doesn't even mention God! I prayed for her when I read the interview, that her heart would be captured by God's glory, majesty, and holiness. Out of that understanding flows the kinds of actions that testify to our love for God.

The next Lance Armstrong?

Sherry and I have been following the Tour de France, and have been riding our bikes pretending to be Lance and Jan Ullrich. Of course, with Ullrich out due to allegations of drug use we had to stand in Ivan Basso. Oh wait, he too is out due to the allegations. So is Oscar Sevilla. OK, let's go with Bobby Julich. Bummer! He's out with an injury, probably torpedoing my Team du Jour of CSC.

Well, as long as we are fantasizing we'll go back to Ullrich, the perennial fly in Armstrong's ointment. Who can forget the famous "look" as he attacked Jan Ullrich up the famous L’Alpe D’Huez in 2001:

Well, sometimes Sherry is Lance and I'm Jan, and other times we'll reverse. We had planned a 30 mile ride on Sunday, starting at Clackamas Town Center and following the I-205 bike path out to the Columbia, riding an out and back 10 miles on Marine Drive, and then back to Town Center. Alas, was not to be. We were about 7 miles into the ride going about 17-18 MPH when I heard Sherry scream. I looked back to see her run into a chain link fence, careen off and then go down in a jarring tangle of aluminum, carbon fiber and flesh. We called 911 and I was put on hold for about 90 seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Two very helpful cyclists had stopped to assist, one was a lifeguard and the other a paramedic so they were knowledgeable about what to do and what not to do while waiting for the ambulance. It turns out that Sherry had slaked her thirst and upon the attempt to put the bottle back in the cage, momentarily looked down and veered off of the path.

Upon arrival of the ambulance, she was put on a back board and then loaded up. They couldn't fit her bike, my bike, and me all in the ambulance so I 'volunteered' to ride back to the truck, load my bike and then drive to the ER. I think watching my wife being driven off in the ambulance was one of the saddest things I've ever experienced. However, I took the stress out in a blitz back to the truck. I rode as hard as I've ever rode, with fear, compassion, apprehension flooding me with adrenalin. Forget doping, I was a man on a mission. I probably could have won a stage and captured the coveted maillot jaune (yellow jersey).

Fortunately Sherry had no broken bones, but just some nasty bruises, sprains and road rash. She's already talking about getting back in the saddle, although we will need to get a new one as it was shredded in the crash. Other fatalities include her helmet, which is cracked and punctured (by a rock?) and possibly a wheel that is bent. Here's hoping for a speedy recovery honey!

A (mostly) wonderful weekend at the beach

We had a weekend at the beach! Friends Reed and Andrea tied the knot at the Flying Dutchman winery in Depoe Bay, and we thought it would be a great way to have a getaway, wish them well and watch the nupitals, and enjoy the beauty of the Oregon coast.

Sherry was talking with some friends prior to the trip, and somehow it came out that Jim and Julie also were spending the weekend at the coast, right in Depoe Bay where the wedding was! At their encouragement (it didn't take much) we abandoned the hotel we had secured (thankfully at not cost to us) and joined them in Julie's cousin's home. Right above the ocean, it sleeps twelve so it was very roomy.

We got to the coast early on Friday, and had several hours to kill before meeting up with them. There was a state park perched right on top of a bluff over the ocean with a big grassy area. We threw the ball for Kadie and then played a game of acey deucey (Sherry barely won, but I actually let her) while enjoying a warm, sunny afternoon - at the Oregon coast! In fact, the weather was awesome the entire weekend.

We went crabbing! I had no idea how it worked, thinking maybe you just dug them up out of the sand. Nope, we went out on a boat and threw crab pots overboard, baited with thawed chicken breasts. We'd wait a while and then haul the pot up and grab the crabs. Even though I was wearing gloves I was still a bit discomfited rooting around and grabbing these scrambling little clawed creatures. We would measure them to see if they were of proper length, and if not pitch right back into the bay. Turned out that we had only two that met the requirements, so we decided to go out for dinner.

We went to a restuarant called April's, and it was wonderful. I'm not a big seafood fan, so I usually default to the lone steak offering to pacify the landlubbers like me. They served a New York steak with an apricot glaze that was to die for. The only disappointment was that they didn't have onion rings. I really like a few onion rings with my steak. They were a bit offended and responded that "there is no need to deep fry anything in this establishment". I had to forgive them as the steak was that good. We were acting goofy and laughing so hard I thought they would kick us out, but we were ringing up a pretty hefty tab and that seemed to have mitigated our good natured obnoxiousness.

Reed and Andrea's wedding was a great experience. They are adventure racers, and you can read a great article about their romance here (don't miss the part about them being "mushy gushy in love"!). Reed is tall, and everyone said that for some reason his tuxedo seemed to add a few inches to his height! Andrea looked beautiful in her dress, and Sherry said to me "I want us to look like them", in a reference to their obvious fit appearance. I guess that a fit appearance doesn't fit me! The ceremony was personal, moving and unique as the children were involved too. It was very windy (it was outdoors) but the location at the Flying Dutchman winery could not have been better as they had a private little garden/reception area with a patio deck right at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Reed's friend Colin officiated, and he was eloquent and fun all at the same time.

Well, as you noticed I prefaced the word "wonderful" in the title with a disclaimer of "mostly". On Sunday, we left around 1:00 PM and drove north to Lincoln City. Intending to return to Tigard (suburb of Portland) by going through Grand Ronde and then McMinnville on Highway 18. I have to be honest, about 6 miles out of Lincoln City I saw a sign that said "Road Closed" ahead. I was a bit puzzled and I should have turned around at that instant. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. About another 2 miles we ran into a wall of cars. We sat there for about 10 minutes and didn't move atll. Then, we began creeping. And stopping. And creeping. And stopping. It soon became apparent that our (slow) progress was due to cars turning around somewhere up the road. We had rounded a bend, and had enough view to see scores of cars down the road, without exaggeration I believe we could see about a hundred vehicles from where we were.

Later we found that it turned out to be a multiple fatality accident right at Grand Ronde, and investigators were recreating the scene, transporting the victims, interviewing witnesses, clearing the road, etc etc. Horrible loss due to a truck crossing the centerline and hurtling directly into two motorcycles, then veering back into traffic and sideswiping two other cars.

Well, eventually we turned around too. The rest of the day went like this:

1. We returned to 101, and headed north. We had a high level (not detailed) map, and saw that Highway 22 appeared to take us east to the extent that we believed we would miss whatever was happening on 18. We drove about half an hour and then hit a dead stop with cars lined up for at least a half mile we could see. I knew from the milepost signs that there was still about 5 miles to go until it intersected with 18, so it was not unreasonable to estimate that there was a 4 mile traffic jam.
2. We returned to 101, and headed north. Looking at the map, we saw back roads leading out of Cloverdale that appeared to go directly east toward Yamhill, from which we could have dropped into Sherwood and then home. After consulting with some helpful locals who asked if we had sleeping bags and food for what would likely be an overnight stay because one wrong turn would get us lost for hours, we abandoned that idea.
3. We returned to 101, and headed north. We were hungry, so we stopped for an early dinner in Tillamook and intended to take Highway 6 to Banks and then to 26 and return home. A tow truck driver was also stopping for lunch, and we began talking about the wreck on 18 which he had been monitoring from his radio. He mentioned that Highway 6 had also just reported a bad accident with traffic backed up and only one lane getting through. Sigh.
4. We returned to 101, and headed north, intending to go to Seaside and then take 26 back to Portland and then home. Out of Nehalem we remembered Highway 53, which cut about 11 miles off of 26 and would allow us to avoid Seaside. We traveled 53 without incident, and then hit a wall of cars on 26.
5. We considered returning to 101 and going to Astoria and taking Highway 30 down to Portland, but then decided after numerous attempts that day at going east to just stick it out on Highway 26. It took us almost two hours to get from milepost 11 to 24, and we thought there had been a big wreck on 26 (which is not uncommon unfortuneately). At milepost 24 though the traffic opened up like sunrise after a dark night and we made it home without further delay.

All in all, it took us TEN HOURS to get home from what should have been a three hour tour, a three...hour....tour. Was the weekend worth it? It was!