Sticks and Stones will break my bones...

...and so will being clumsy.

So there I was. Sherry had a friend who had a birthday to stop by and celebrate. As Cindy and Sherry were both in the kitchen blocking my access to the refrigerator (a very dangerous and precarious position to assume) I attempted to maneuver past them with a single, fluid motion in a daring display of my dexterity. Unfortunately, our cabinets and countertops did not comply. I jammed my toe and grunted in pain as my nerves communicated to my brain that injury was not only imminent but realized.

With an ungraceful, non-fluidic response I stumbled and Cindy naturally stuck out her arms to break my fall. In an instant of time I'm wracked with pain, in the arms of another woman, in my kitchen, in front of my wife.

From previous daring displays of dexterity I knew I had broken my little toe.

But, we are a culture that looks to put any blame on another entity or circumstance, right? Of course. Not wanting to appear clumsy, I searched diligently for an excuse. And found one! I take pulmicort for asthma. some of the documented side effects include:

Immediate and delayed hypersensitivity reactions including rash, contact dermatitis, angioedema, and bronchospasm; symptoms of hypocorticism and hypercorticism; psychiatric symptoms including depression, aggressive reactions, irritability, anxiety, and psychosis; Bad taste, headache, nausea and dryness of the throat were reported less frequently. Other side effects reported on occasion were tiredness, thirst and diarrhea.

Sounds like a typical day at work, doesn't it? Well, you can add to the list "bone disorders including avascular necrosis of the femoral head and osteoporosis".

Of course - broken bones! Ha, the scapegoat at last - the explanation for all my problems - drugs! All this time I thought I was afflicted with MCS (male clumsiness syndrome) but it turns out to be the drug I'm taking. But wait, I broke the same toe long before I had asthma...

We rode the tram! We rode the tram!

It began with this weird looking tower being constructed on the east side of I-5 just as begins to dump right into downtown Portland. I was (and still am) fascinated by it's unique architecture, looking like any moment it would topple to the ground and crush hapless motorists on the freeway below.

Eventually I found that it was the support tower for the Portland Tram. Ahhhh - the Portland Tram!

Like any project of this magnitude it was not without issues, particularly budget. Significantly over budget already, cost overruns followed cost overruns. Initially budgeted for $15.5 million, the project came in at $57 million! That's over twice what I make in a year! Leaving a fired program director in it's wake, the spiraling budget almost ground the project to a halt and abandonment.



Well, now it's finished and working great. Our friends Ed & Fern called us up one night a few weeks ago and said "let's go ride the tram". Sure, why not ride the tram? Also it was a cheap date as in the month of February rides were free, now the fare is 4 bucks for a round trip ticket.


There are two cabins, but I think a more appropriate moniker would be "eggs". Like silvery orbs escaping the gentle puff of a child with a bubble pipe they float above the Portland cityscape in a steady but unhurried pace.




Here's the (boring) technical description: The Tram cabins travel 3,300 linear feet between the South Waterfront terminal adjacent to the OHSU Center for Health & Healing, and the upper terminal at the Kohler Pavilion on OHSU's main campus. Traveling at 22 miles per hour, the Tram cabins rise 500 feet for the three-minute trip over I-5, the Lair Hill neighborhood and the Southwest Terwilliger Parkway.


22 miles per hours is not blindingly fast, but when the eggs pass one another you get a sense of speed that is a unique sensation. Now here's the cool part they don't tell you - as the egg ascends up to and then passes over the crest of the tower there is a marked drop that will surprise you! Not scary enough to make kids cry, but more than you would expect. We rode the tram for six round trip cycles and after the first few times of jockeying for a window view from the cabin, I would strategically position myself right in the middle with the aid of a support rail. Passing over the tower gave me the opportunity to surf, if you will; the sudden descent. Woo hoo!


When the cabins dock, it is also very cool. It doesn't take much imagination to pretend that you are in a shuttle docking at a space station. I also enjoyed looking at the mechanics of the tram operations with the cables, wheels and counterweights.


My favorite part of the experience? Because the tram connects the OHSU Center for Health & Healing to Oregon Health & Sciences University (or as we locals call it - "pill hill") one would expect an extraordinary concern for safety and the tram has much redundancy and controls installed to reassure and reinforce how stable and safe the experience is. Note though that the concern for safety stretches beyond the tram itself to the Center for Health & Healing as demonstrated by this sign affixed above the toilets:

"Toilets and urinals are flushed with reclaimed water - do not drink"

Thank you! As it is not my habit to drink out of a toilet I'm sure that the admonition will apply to others who may occasionally succumb to the temptation.

For more about the tram you can visit here and here.

Tribute to Bruce Metzger

In the New York Times obituaries on Friday February 16 the death of Bruce Manning Metzger is noted (born February 9, 1914, deceased February 13, 2007). Dr. Metzger was a towering figure skilled in Biblical languages, particularly koine (i.e. "common") Greek and his studies of the New Testament and Apocryphal books. Let it not be overlooked that he was also skilled and fluent in Latin, Hebrew, Coptic, Syriac, Russian, German, French and Dutch. To contrast, I'm skilled in the English dialects of Californian (like, you know) and Oregonian (vente, nonfat, no whip, extra hot raspberry mocha with a sticker and a thermal sleeve).

Dr. Metzger was best known to the general public of his supervising of the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, which uses contemporary English and does away with much of the exclusively masculine language of previous translations. Pronouns like thee, thou, and thine found contemporary counterparts that were more understandeable, along with eliminating verbs such as art, hast and hadst. Although Metger could be a lightning rod for convservatives, overall his accomplishements and defense of the manuscript evidence for the Bible was towering.

Why is this all so important anyway? Let me digress for a moment and provide a few thoughts on translation. The challenge is this: although the literal translation of words remains constant, language changes over time. Therefore, to be meaningful the language must be accessible to the reader. Can you think of an example? Although somewhat rough, if I say "I made an inquiry into the life of Bruce Metzger" you would know what I mean. But, to the savvy internet literati I could also say "I googled Bruce Metzger" and that meaning would be the same. Think of words that even weren't around even 15 years ago - bling, podcast.


The translator is also challenged by not only making something accessible, and yet be faithful to the original word itself balanced with context and meaning. In Biblical translation these concepts are expressed as functional dynamics and formal dynamics. Functional dynamics will take a thought for thought approach, where formal dynamics takes a word for word approach. I find it helpful in my studies to incorporate both types of translations. For example, Matthew 9:11 in the New American Standard Bible reads:

When the Pharisees saw this, they said to His disciples, "Why is your Teacher eating with the tax collectors and sinners?"

That is a formal dynamic, where the text contains the literal words "tax collectors" and "sinners". Now look at this same verse in the New Living Translation:

But when the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with such scum?”

Now to be fair the NLT does contain a footnote that references the precise translation of tax collectors and sinners. But what the NLT does is to draw out the context, to show that the Pharisees (a sect of Judiasm at that time) despised and looked down on tax collectors and sinners.

Let it be said though that Dr. Metzger was not above criticism, as some evangelicals criticized him for saying that many biblical books, like the book of Genesis, were "composites of several sources" rather than the work of individual authors. Metzger's contention that certain extra-biblical books were inspired but not canonical was also critiqued by some evangelicals, who said such beliefs undermined Scripture's inerrancy.

However, his legacy will not soon be forgotten. One of my favorite quotes attributed to Metzger is this:

"You have to understand that the canon was not the result of a series of contests involving church politics. … . You see, the canon is a list of authoritative books more than it is an authoritative list of books. These documents didn't derive their authority from being selected; each one was authoritative before anyone gathered them together."

Love it! For a personal tribute John Piper records his thoughts here. Through gates of splendor Metzger has now entered into his rest.

Dream On

No, this isn't about the Aerosmith song that rocked the airwaves in the 70's (although I did have the 8-track tape when it came out).

I often have vivid, strange dreams. One of my all time favorites is when I was piloting (captaining? driving?) a PT boat through rough waters - the 3 powerful packard v-12 engines caused a thrumming underneath my feet as I held the boat steady and roared through the waves like a lasik surgery on an old eyeball.

Well, this dream started in a warehouse in Los Angeles with me supplying drugs to one of my old friends, Tyler. Now I should qualify that Tyler was sick and these were not illegal drugs but over the counter medicine. I left Tyler and the warehouse and walked down the street to a small bungalow of the type that overtook the city in the 50's and 60's like lighter fluid on a bed of charcoal.

In the bungalow was a woman in her mid 30's whose name I never learned, but she did have an 8 year old daughter named Ivy who was cute as a spring flower pushing it's way up out of the drab winter soil. As we talked together Ivy's mom mentioned that Leo was going to come over.

A few minutes later Leonardo DiCaprio entered the house. I was trying to be as nonchalant as a pretty high school girl snubbing an eyeglass wearing nerd (note the subtle reference to my high school days). I said "hey Leo, how you doing"? Apparently he knew me as he replied "great Dave, how are you?". He then said to Ivy "would you like to see some magic tricks?" "sure" she replied. Leo then proceeded to pull a red pocket square (I dream in color) from his breast pocket (he was wearing a sport coat) and proceeded to do some tricks. After a few minutes I bid a farewell and left the house.

I walked down to a street corner and up drove my grandma (now deceased). She was driving a convertible Cadillac with the top down and it was filled with a bunch of high school girls who were indifferent to me apparently reinforcing my poor self image. Why is this relevant? Grandma never drove in her entire life. Well, she went around a corner and the shocks were bad and the heavy caddie leaned far into the turn. Then, we were paralleling a mass transit system light rail. For some reason I extended my arm to put my hand in the air. As we drove underneath a sign, my finger was caught in the sign. Grandma wasn't driving very fast but I knew the momentum would rend my finger from my hand if I didn't do something fast. Fortunately, I was wearing gloves! I managed to extricate my finger from the glove and all was well.

We stopped the car where the tracks ended at a huge Macy's store. All commuters were forced to disembark like ants sprayed with bug spray fleeing their anthill. But all was not lost! The light rail tracks continued right into the Macy's store. The commuters could then walk through the store following the tracks as they wound their way through the men's department, appliances, etc. The tracks were shiny polished silver and rather than being a distraction they lent an elegant air to the store design. The tracks finally led outside the store to another statioin where the commuters could then embark and continue on their journey.

And then I woke up.

Business Trip - Honolulu

I had the recent opportunity to travel to Honolulu for business. I do enjoy traveling to places I have never been before, but this was certainly an exception! As usual, the trip was full of new adventures. Join with me as I recount some highlights:

Everybody's gone surfing....

I flew in early to have a day to myself. It has been over a decade since I was last on Oahu, and although I have been to Pearl Harbor (where the memories are still vivid and put a lump in my throat) and Hanauma Bay (motto: let's see how many haolies we can cram into this small bay and then snicker at them) but it has been long enough that I don't remember the North Shore.

Ah, the North Shore - a mecca of surfing, and especially in the winter when the waves are at the biggest. Home to some of the most famous beaches in the world - Waimea Bay, Sunset Beach, and last but certainly not least the Banzai Pipeline. The cool thing is that there was a surfing competition at the the Pipeline, camera crews and everything. Probably 150 people had turned out and I sat on the beach for a while just hanging out. However, when I got to Sunset Beach it was incredible! Huge waves were forming and breaking far from the shore, I'm guessing 15-18 feet high. The surfers were incredible, and in my uneducated opinion the surfing was much "mo betta" than at the Pipeline.

Splish splash I was takin' a bath

I was sandy and sweaty after spending the day at the North Shore. Returning to the hotel, I noticed that the bathroom had a jacuzzi tub! Now I'm a shower guy and haven't taken a bath since I don't know when. However, I thought this would be just right. I filled the tub, turned on the jacuzzi jets and sank into restful bliss. I noticed on the counter a little tray of toiletries. There was a bottle labeled "bath something", where the something refers to a word I don't remember. I picked up the bottle and gave a good squeeze into the tub. Suddenly, a high tide of bubbles began to rise. Quickly they rose to my chest, then chin, and threatened to drown me! By the time I turned the jets off, there were bubbles spilling over onto the floor and moving toward the bathroom door. I survived the attack.

Superbowl Sunday

I'm not a football fan, so when the game started I went out to the hotel pool. It was a great experience having the whole deck and pool to myself! After a good swim I showered (eschewing the bubble bath bad behavior) and went out to eat. I found a Don Ho restaurant where the denizens were inside watching and screaming at the game. What does that mean? That means that even at the dinner hour I had a seat out on the veranda where I was caressed by a gentle breeze, enjoying a magnificent view, and supping on tropical delicacies.

Elevator noises

The hotel I stayed at had peculiar characteristics. It started life as condos, but as the financial district grew around it a renovation occurred and ownership passed to turn it into a business traveler hotel. In my room the outside walls were floor to ceiling windows, where I could sit with my morning coffee and watch the sparkling sunrise slowly illuminate the industrial section of the bay that my window faced. Sunlight would glint off the rusting and towering cranes as they slowly loaded cargo containers on massive ships to soon traverse the ocean blue. Slight oil slicks would occasionally present a soft rainbow pattern hovering over the water. One of the more interesting facets of this diamond of a hotel was the elevators. Each one had an unusal, slightly unnerving, noise. I'll call them elevator A, B and C. Elevator A kind of squeaked, like the cables needed lubricating. Elevator B occasionaly thumped, like there was an obstruction in the shaft such as a speed bump that it would hit each time. Elevator C banged, such as the carriage was floating loose in the shaft and hit the walls in the ascent/descent.

There's no place like home.

On my last night I was wandering around and literally right across the street was what looked to be an older (brick) building that had been converted to offices. On the building were these words: The Oregon Building. Over the door was this word: Portland. How nice to have a subtle reminder of home sweet home in Honolulu of all places!