Amazing Grace - or Unsettling Grace?

Holy Cow! Can't we all just get along?!!? A little joshing about theological perspectives took an ugly turn recently with James White and Paul McCain lobbing a few hand grenades around regarding our recurring theme of Calvinism and Arminianism.

It reminded me of the Council of Nicea in 325 a.d. where as tradition has it that Arius penned his famous diatribes against the equality of Jesus with the Father to the tune of popular songs of the day. Again, tradition states that the Athanasian camp basically stuck their fingers in their ears and chanted "we can't hear you, we can't hear you".

It illustrates the point though that words when combined with music have a great impact. Consider this jingle against Arminiasm which I'm not sure who authored to the tune of Amazing Grace (John Newton who has to be not only spinning but spitting in his grave!):

Arminian "grace!" How strange the sound,
Salvation hinged on me.
I once was lost then turned around,
Was blind then chose to see.

What "grace" is it that calls for choice,
Made from some good within? That part
that wills to heed God's voice,
Proved stronger than my sin.

Thru many ardent gospel pleas,
I sat with heart of stone.
But then some hidden good in me,
Propelled me toward my home.

When we've been there ten thousand years,
Because of what we've done,
We've no less days to sing our praise,
Than when we first begun.

Well, somebody couldn't leave well enough alone and (okay, I don't know which was written first but you get the point about the contention) and renders the old classic "Jesus Loves Me" with an anti-Calvinist twist:

Jesus loves me! This I know
Predestination tells me so
Sovereign God loves me so well,
But He may want you in hell!

Yes, Jesus loves me
Well, maybe He loves me
I sure hope He loves meI guess
I'll never know!

Jesus loves me, I will win!
Can not fall away by sin.
Can't resist His grace, it's true,
Died for me but not for you.

Chorus

Jesus loves me! Where is He?
Up in heaven, can't you see?
Can't be sure where I will go
Jesus' little lamb, or no?

Chorus

Principles that regulate,
All our worship, ain't they great?
Even if we aren't too sure,
Which points really are secure.

Chorus

Now, just when you think it can't get any worse, "Rick" revises again to an ultra-Arminian extremist position that ventures out of orthodoxy bounds - but perhaps this is a knee jerk reaction and attempt at shock value for emphasis without really holding to this position? One can only hope:

Jesus loves me, though He’s helpless to save
O how he wants me to be brave
He cheers for me and that’s all He can do
Until the day I make my own life new

Yes I love Jesus, Yes I love Jesus
After I love Jesus, He decides to love me too

Jesus loves me; I’m not dead in sin
There is so much good within
I am not chosen my will is totally free.
I just need to breathe new life in me

Chorus

No regulation for worship, isn’t that great?
Whatever we can invent or create
God’s Word is full of just morals and advice
“Bring them in” at any price

Chorus

God’s not sovereign, how can He be?
That would take the thunder from me
We somehow are our own salvation buyers
Sinners are their own justifiers!

Chorus

Now, I could be accused of being wishy washy or a theological 'girly man' but I wouldn't discount either side with such vitriol. I know that positions are important and have great impact, but I do respect each side. And having said that, let me assure you that I firmly in one camp. But it is not my intention to debate here, but to again ask the question "can't we all get along"? My response then follows the modus operandi we have seen thus far. Please take a moment, and a breath; and sing the following to the tune of the Brady Bunch:

Here’s the story, of a man named Calvin
Who was busy writing doctrinal treatises all day,
It became the work we know as “Institutes”
Nothing much more to say.

Our friend Arminius took great exception,
With some concepts Calvin had put in his book,
He made points of his own, in refutation;
And considered Calvin a kook.

Till the one day when these fellows met in heaven,
And they knew it was much more than a hunch,
That their viewpoints each must be respected,
And that Jesus’ disciples must become a civil bunch

A civil bunch, a civil bunch, that’s the way they became a civil bunch.

P.S. Phil Johnson wrote a great piece that leads to great discussion and thought on doctrinal disagreement, and you can read it here.

It's December..and beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Last Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving) my adorable wife put up the Christmas lights while I was at work. Not only that, but she cleaned the gutters as well! Now that in and of itself is a big deal, for this reason - I have two fears in life that I will disclose to you. The first is pregnancy. Pregnancy is sooo un-natural. You should be able to just go down to Fred Meyer and pick one out, right? Well, we'll talk about that in another post. The other is the fear of heights. As my elevation increases, such as on a ladder; I get more and more uncomfortable. That's why I'm very grateful to Sherry for doing a job that I usually dread.

Now Sherry did something radically different this year - we have a long driveway and she lined each side of the driveway with a string of cable lights. Very cool, but an unusual effect - it very much resembles a runway! I expected Sherry to come out of the house to greet me looking something like this:

Well, my taxi to the garage door was uneventful and I followed ramp protocol to a "T". Upon spooling down the engines and departing my craft, I could only be thankful that Sherry's enthusiasm has not yet reached the degree as seen in (turn your speakers up)...

...this house!

One What, Three Whos - SAY WHAT?!?!

We had a lively discussion today that centered on the trinity. A friend (we'll call her "Ruth") was asked earlier in the week about how the Holy Spirit could be a person in the trinity, and the Son could also be a person in the trinity, and yet they are all still God. Ruth responded with an example, by stating that at one time in her life she was a bank employee by day, and a rock start at night by playing in a band but she was still Ruth .

Does that illustration work?

Let's try to break it down, but it's time for a disclaimer - in posting a an article of perhaps a few hundred words on probably the most difficult of theological subjects will naturally lead to a distilled sip of water out of a river of truth. Although much more could be said, I'll respond with a brief answer that will, for brevity's sake; omit other aspects of the truth of this doctrine.

First, let's talk about ontology - a fancy word for the nature of being, or existence. I think we would agree that human beings can be defined as one what and one who. We could say that another way by stating that people are one essence (human) and one person (uniqueness) Therefore, I am one what (human) and one who (Dave). Ruth is also one essence (human) and one who (Ruth). I think we would be in agreement so far.

Now, let's postulate about a different kind of being altogether, non-human. This being can be defined as one what and three whos. OK, now it gets tricky doesn't it! We believe God is one what - meaning He is one in essence, and three whos - he is three separate, distinct persons - Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Let's illustrate that with a chart (apologies for the poor quality):

What we see in this chart is that the Father is not the son, and the Son is not the Spirit, and the Spirit is not the Father. We also see that the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Spirit is God.

This is crucial for this reason - the doctrine of the trinity has been accused of being a logical contradiction, in that we are claiming that 1+1+1=1. That is not the case however. In order for something to be contradictory, it must violate the law of noncontradiction. This law states that A cannot be both A (what it is) and non-A (what it is not) at the same time and in the same relationship. In other words, you have contradicted yourself if you affirm and deny the same statement.

Let's look at some supporting documentation I pulled from several sources:

For example, if I say that that the moon is made entirely of cheese but then also say that the moon is not made entirely of cheese, I have contradicted myself. Other statements may at first seem contradictory but are really not.

Theologian R.C. Sproul cites as an example Dickens’ famous line, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Obviously this is a contradiction if Dickens means that it was the best of times in the same way that it was the worst of times. But Dickens avoids contradiction with this statement because he means that in one sense it was the best of times, but in another sense it was the worst of times.

Carrying this concept over to the Trinity, it is not a contradiction for God to be both three and one because He is not three and one in the same way. He is three in a different way than He is one. Thus, we are not speaking with contradiction by saying that God is one and then denying that He is one by saying that He is three. This is very important: God is one and three at the same time, but not in the same way.

How is God one? He is one in essence. How is God three? He is three in Person. Essence and person are not the same thing. God is one in a certain way (essence) and three in a different way (person). Since God is one in a different way than He is three, the Trinity is not a contradiction. There would only be a contradiction if we said that God is three in the same way that He is one.

Because each of these “forms of existence” are relational (and thus are Persons), they are each a distinct center of consciousness, with each center of consciousness regarding Himself as “I” and the others as “You.” Nonetheless, these three Persons all “consist of” the same “stuff” (that is, the same “what,” or essence). As theologian and apologist Norman Geisler has explained it:

while essence is what you are, person is who you are. So God is one “what” but three “whos.”

Let's try another illustration to make the distinctions. Time for a little quiz! Don't panic, I'll put the answers right in there for you (collective sigh of relief):

1. Existence: is there something in the classroom? Yes, there is something in the classroom.
2. Essence: what is in the classroom? A human is in the classroom.
3. Person: who is in the classroom? Ruth is in the classroom.

Now, let's take the EXACT SAME QUESTIONS and see how the outcome is different based on the ontological response to the question:

1. Existence: is there something in the classroom? Yes, there is something in the classroom.
2. Essence: what is in the classroom? God is in the classroom.
3. Person: who is in the classroom? The Father is in the classroom. The Son is in the classroom. The Spirit is in the classroom.

Did you notice how much more important the words "what" and "who" became in the second set of questions? That's because, based on the response; a different ontological entity became the focus.

Let's go back up now to Ruth's illustration. Does this illustration work? I would respond "no" for this reason - that illustration (and this is a very common mistake) confuses the ontological being of humans and God. Ultimately, this leads to a heresy that is called modalisim.

Unfortunately, there are many illustrations which are not simply imperfect, but in error. Another type of this example is something that goes like this:

“I am one person, but I am a student, son, and brother. This explains how God can be both one and three.”

The problem with this is that God is not one person who plays three different roles, as this illustration suggests. He is one Being in three Persons (centers of consciousness), not merely three roles. This analogy ignores the personal distinctions within God and mitigates them to mere roles. Therefore, we conclude that the trinity represents God as a different ontological being than humans - He is one what and three whos!

Haircut Day

As as my custom, I'd been keeping my hair very short all summer. Sherry plugs in the sheep shearers and buzzes my head. The pic on the left shows a little bit of grow out. Now that winter is just around the corner I've let it grow out a bit more as you can see on the picture at the right.

Obviously, my hair grows pretty fast. I went into one of those quick and easy haircut shops, I can't remember the name but it was the salon establishment of a Jiffy Lube - in and out, speed is as important as service. Maybe the marketing angle is the service is speed! In any event, I digress. A friendly lady approached and introduced herself as Kathy and notified me that she is ready to start working on me. Now, that approached puzzled me - you work on cars, like they do at Jiffy Lube. You cut hair, like they do in a salon. Hmmm - but I'm not in a salon! OK, I get it - and got in the chair.

Funny thing, it brought back a memory that is now almost thirty years old. It was a hot summer day in Redding California, and I had a friend named Cindy. Cindy decided her life's talents lay in the cosmetology field, and enrolled in that school (what was it Janet, do you remember?) on North Market Street. As part of her real life experience, she needed to perform an actual haircut on a living person.

Enter gullible Dave. It started innocently enough, a little light banter, a little snip snip of the scissors. Gradually though, Cindy became quiet. Then concerned. Then worried. Then she started to cry. As she is cutting my hair. Now, I'm beginning to get a little concerned myself. Cindy's instructor came over, and said in a reassuring tone; "I think we can fix it up a little bit and with time it will be OK".

Well, time does heal wounds...and hair. Cindy, if you are out there somewhere reading this - all is forgiven!

Jim's first new car

My friend Jim (happy birthday!) gave me permission to post this email he sent recently. I crack up every time I read his recounting of the power antenna discussion. There are two important milestones in most people's lives, the purchasing of their first car and (if the first one was used) the purchasing of a new car. Here's Jim's story:


My first new car was a burgundy 88 Olds Calais SL. It was a special Calais. The Qaud-4 engine was the first world-class 16-valve built by GM. It had a nice German five-speed. Top notch sound system. Sun roof. $125 a tire Firestone Firehawk GTs on mag wheels. It had every option on it other than power windows and the trip computer. I could have purchased the top-of-the-line “International” edition, but I liked the black chrome accent look of the SL. I remember hashing out the deal with the salesman. After four hours we had an agreement until he said “What about a power antenna?” “What does it do?” I asked. “It goes up when you turn the radio on and goes down when you turn the radio off. $110.” “Better reception?” I asked. “It goes up when you turn the radio on and goes down when you turn the radio off. $110.” “Does it do anything else?” “It goes up when you turn the radio on and goes down when you turn the radio off. $110.” I got it.

My friends in DC gave me a hard time about a four-door but everyone enjoyed having their own door. The back seat folded down so you could carry 2x4s and such, a really nice feature. I loved that car enough to put 156,000 miles on it. We went to Maine, New York, Boston, Philly, Richmond, Nashville, Pittsburgh, all over the DelMarVa and Blue Ridge when I live in DC. Towed it behind a big Budget diesel when I moved back to Portland and immediately drove it up to Prince Rupert for a trip on the Inner Passage. I sold it seven years ago when I bought the Ford Ranger. The Olds needed a new exhaust, some of the interior plastic was broken or missing, and the head gasket should be replaced as that was the reason it was eating exhaust systems. Would not pass DEQ. Sold it to a back-yard mechanic for $650.

Yesterday I ran across it in the Lloyd Center parking lot. A bit worse for wear but it still had the Paul Brothers Oldsmobile, Chevy Chase Maryland emblem on the trunk and the security sandblast VIN on the windows (a necessary security measure when living in DC). I sat around for about ten minutes to see if the owners came by, but they never showed. I am pleased it is still on the road. Licensed through Sept 06.

How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?

An oldie, but a goodie! Hat tip to Robbin for forwarding. I've taken the liberty to update this list by modifying the Unitarian response, and then adding three new ones at the end that I have observed in recent evangelicalism.

1. Pentecostals: Ten. One to change the bulb and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.
2. Charismatic: Only one. Hands already in the air.
3. Presbyterians: None. Lights will go on and off at predestined times.
4. Roman Catholic: None. Candles only.
5. Baptists: At least 15. One to change the light bulb and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad.
6. Episcopalians: Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks and one to talk about how much better the old one was.
7. Unitarians: We choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb. However, if in your own journey you have found that light bulbs work for you, that is fine. You are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your light bulb for the next Sunday service.
8. Methodists: Undetermined. Whether your light is bright, dull,or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb, or tulip bulb. Church-wide lighting service is planned for Sunday. Bring bulb of your choice and a covered dish.
9. Nazarene: Six. One woman to replace the bulb while five men review church lighting policy.
10. Lutherans: None. Lutherans don't believe in change.
11. Amish: What's a light bulb?
12. Postmodern: We're not sure, but the light that shines the brightest is the light in our own hearts. Live out the expression of light while not neglecting those around you that still need their candles lit. We know that light is a metaphor for sunshine and sunshine is a simile for truth, and the circle is completed when we light the path of our lives with the sunshine of truth. Therefore celebrate the truth of light! Rejoice in the light of truth! Walk and run and marry and procreate and wash dishes in the eternal sunshine of God. Be sure to attend our special service designed to reach Goths at 7:00 pm on Saturday night, or whenever you want to show up. Read your Bible sometimes. Oh, and can somebody change the light bulb?
13. Purpose Driven: One. But he's part of a new ministry team named "Caleb" (Caring And Lighting Eternal Bulbs) designed specifically for those called to light bulb changing. They meet at the church on Saturday mornings at 9:00 AM for a 15 minute video, and then the team goes to Starbucks and has muffins and coffee as they learn why the bulb needs changing and whether God has called them to a fluorescent, incandescent or halogen ministry!
14. Dispensational: It doesn't matter because the true light bulb changers will be raptured, followed by seven years of power outages as the Antichrist persecutes those who would attempt to change the light bulb. During this time the mark of the beast (the Enron logo) will be put on the wrist or forehead of anyone who attempts to change the bulb. A remnant will arise and be faithful until the end, receiving either a 40 watt, 60 watt or a 100 watt reward. And then the Antichrist is thrown into a lake of fire.

Household Chores - House 2, Dave 1

I thought I would catch up on a few household chores this weekend.

Shredding old statements: I had some stuff jammed into a drawer that included bank statements from when Nixon was in office. I finally turned on my shredder, and started running stuff through. Apparently there were a few Meier & Frank statements that had those nifty little scratch and sniff perfume samples. The shredder scratched, and I sniffed. At times I'm a bit sensitive to odorants & deodorants, and you can imagine what perfume does to me. A blossoming aroma rose like a nuclear mushroom and almost overtook me as my olfactory receptors recoiled in terror.

Shredder 1, Dave 0

Closet Toss - I have a bad habit. My closet is reasonably organized with the most casual attire at the right, and then a gradual proceeding to formal businessware at the left. I'll confess though that my top shelf becomes the time sensitive cavity for the clothes toss. I just chuck stuff up there that I'll deal with (ha!) later. I found myself with about 3 t-shirts a pair of jeans in my hands that I didn't want to fold. Up he goes for a reverse layup! Swish, nothing but net! But, down came 4 shirts (the jeans stayed). I chucked them up (note: not "upchucked") and this time 2 shirts and the pair of jeans fell. I still believed I had the home court advantage, after all it is my closet; and slam dunked the clothes up there. 10 shirts, 2 pair of jeans and an old hat came down.

Closet 1, Dave 0

Sherry had decided to do some maintenance with her fish hobby. I like that because she gets to be creative and rearrange the furniture in the fish's homes (we have three aquariums) and if I'm lucky nothing will ever change in our real furnishings. Forever. Yup, I work in an extremely dynamic workplace but I could have the same picture on the wall and the same coffee table in the same place for eternity. Well, I digress. She put Larry the Lobster (he's about 7 inches long now) in the little tank in the kitchen. The next morning we were having coffee on the sofa (yes, the one that I hope she never moves) and we heard this shizzle-shizzle-pop-plunk. We ran into the kitchen, not having any idea what the noise was; to find Larry on the counter heading for the front door with 20 bucks he grabbed from our rainy day fund. Sherry started to scream (eeeeEEEEEEEk!!!!), my ears began to bleed and Larry laughed. I lunged at the little lobster and latched onto his tail and flipped him back into the tank.

Larry 0, Dave 1

All I want for Christmas...

Each year, Sherry asks what I want for Christmas. Each year, I respond the same - I have everything in life I need, but I want you can't possibly afford. This year's request is a vintage muscle car. For a season in the eighties I worked as an automotive machinist with my 15 minutes of fame having worked on some engine parts for King Richard (aka Richard Petty). No kidding! His chief engine builder Terry Elledge lived in our town (Redding, CA) and I did some very basic prep work. BTW, it was fascinating to see a picture of Terry more than twenty years later. I'm glad to see he is, and has been; successful in his NASCAR career. I sent him an email to say hi and to see if he remembers the little long hair peon Dave Mundt from the Engine Masters days! But I digress, to this day although I have an appreciation for high tech sports cars; there is nothing like the roar of an unmuffled big block or the whine of a supercharged small block that gets my blood pumping.

Well, without further ado here is my Christmas wish: A 1969 ZL1 Camaro. Here's a picture:

Now, I know what you are thinking - so what's the big deal? Sure, it's a 69 Camaro but it's not even a Rally Sport, not even a Super Sport, NOT EVEN A Z28 for cryin' out loud! No spoilers, no racing stripes - but wait, what's that bulge in the hood? That bulge, gentle reader; is a FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN CUBIC INCH MONSTER! Yup, a Camaro powered by 427 cubic inches of Chevy's finest. Oh wait! Lest you yawn, let me also add it was ALL ALUMINUM! Yes, aluminum block, aluminum heads, aluminum intake manifold - and steel crank and rods. Sitting on top of that bad boy was an EIGHT HUNDRED AND FIFTY CFM HOLLEY CARBURETOR! Yup, 850 cubic feet per minute of fuel/air mixture rammed into that manifold. I'm not sure if it was dual feed but my assumption would be yes. I'll calm down a minute and stop using caps for exclamation and let's look at some history courtesy of musclecar.com:

Specially designed to compete in the NHRA Super Stock drag classes, Chevrolet made it an option under the COPO system (code 9560). The cars began as SS396/375bhp Camaros with the F41 suspension. The SS trim and engine were deleted, and the 427 engine, cowl-induction hood, front disc brakes, a choice of heavy duty 4 speed transmissions or Turbo Hydra-matic, and a 4:10 posi axle were
added.

But instead of the regular iron-block and head L72 found in the dealer installed Camaros, the ZL1 sported aluminum heads and the first aluminum block ever made by Chevrolet. It shared the L88 aluminum head/iron block's engine rating of 430 bhp but made closer to 500 bhp -- making it probably the most powerful engine Chevrolet ever offered to the public. And the engine weighed just 500 pounds, the same as Chevy's 327 small block. The car was blessed with a 5 year/50,000 mile warranty and was fully street legal. With factory exhausts and tires, it turned low 13s; with headers and slicks, it could turn 11.6s @ 122mph. This was the fastest car ever produced by Chevrolet.

Performance had its price -- $4,160 for the ZL1 engine alone pushing the price of the Camaro ZL1 to an unbelieveable $7,200 (about double the price for a SS396 Camaro). Chevy needed to build 50 to qualify the car for racing, and in the end built 69 Camaros and 2 Corvettes with the ZL-1 engine. Their high price made them difficult to sell and at least 12 engines were removed and about 30 cars were returned back to Chevrolet. It took until the early 1970s to sell them all.

One important thing again to underscore is that the price tag is more than double for a standard 69 Camaro which sold for around $3,000.00. And a big block engine that dressed out at 500 pounds! To bring some perspective, when I was in top shape I was deadlifting 365 pounds for 3 reps. 405 was in my sights. Add another 100 pounds to that and I could almost lift an engine that produced 430+ horsepower!

Now let's talk a little bit more about perspective. Let's say in 69 or 70 you were so inspired to plunk down a whopping $7,200.00. And let's also postulate that you never did what most purchasers immediately did, like carve out the wheelwells for slick tubs. Instead, you left it stock - just like from the factory. The numbers match, nothing's been tampered with and she's been lovingly stored. Let's now say 35 years later, you and the missus are looking at retirement. Let's now look at a recent fact, that a stock factory original sold for $830,000.00 dollars. I'm so sorry but I have to revert to caps again - that's EIGHT HUNDRED AND THIRTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. Yup, your investment of $7,200.00 had a return of about 11,500 %. I'd say that beats most mutual funds.

But you know what? If Sherry finds the money to buy me one, I'd keep it in our bedroom. Then, when the sun goes down and the moon comes up, and the night is at it's quietest and it's the darkest just before dawn, I'd take that bad boy out and shred the tires with smokey burnouts from Portland to Salem and back. Once a year. Save your money honey!

What Theologian are you?

Here's a little quiz that will help examine your views and determine which theologian you are most aligned with in your Biblical worldview. Note the obvious - the questions will naturally be prejudiced with the quiz author's viewpoints, and the questions are also designed to lead you to a preselected list of theologians! However, it is a fun little exercise that is also challenging.

Why is it challenging you, the gentle reader; may ask? It actually is a great exercise that has more than just entertainment value as it involves determining the meaning of words, and therefore what does the question really mean? I found several questions that could be construed in a few different possibilities, therefore the sliding scale in which to respond.

The list of possible theologians include:

1. John Calvin
2. Martin Luther
3. Jonathon Edwards
4. Karl Barth
5. Friedrich Schleirmacher
6. Paul Tillich
7. Anselm
8. Jurgen Moltmann
9. Charles Finney
10. Augustine

Who would you add to the list?!? I would throw in a couple of spoilers like perhaps Clark Pinnock, Greg Boyd or Gary North just to shake things up (caveat - I am neither endorsing or refuting their work - ha!)

When I took the quiz, interestingly enough I was presented with a tiebreaker! I had to choose between the following two statements which I actually rassled with a little bit:

Your Preference (Most True)

1. Justification by faith alone is the heart of the Gospel
2. All Christian theology must begin with the revelation of Christ

Faced with choosing between these two was difficult! Ultimately, I chose number 1 for this reason - I concluded that if we must use the word 'must', then all Christian theology must begin with the revelation of God (i.e. the trinity) as taught in the scriptures. Semantics, I know - but it underscores my thought on the importance of words.

Here's my results, which I think we're heavily biased by my choosing question number 1 above:

You scored as Martin Luther.

The daddy of the Reformation. You are opposed to any Catholic ideas of works-salvation and see the scriptures as being primarily authoritative.

Diverse Species observed on Maui

I have a growing interest for the flora and fauna on Maui. This trip, I spent much more time observing and appreciating the natural wonders - in categories that span from rain forest flora to cactus in Kihei & Makena, the beauties of Hibiscus, Plumeria, Spider Lilly, Begonias and so much more provide an almost unsurpassed visual treat.

I also saw some amazing birds. Amongst the many Rock Doves (the Hawaiian name for 'pigeon'!) we spotted Yellow Faced Grassquits and Greater Necklaced Laughing Thrush (you think I'm making this up, don't you? I'm not! BTW both of which are found elswhere than just Hawaii) and many others. One bird I observed was the most brilliant blue I have ever seen. One of the Grassquits I saw had almost a perfect Nike Swoosh just under its eyes (talk about product placement, is there any place in the world without the Nike logo or the Starbucks mermaid?).

We visited the Maui Ocean Center at Ma'alea Harbor, and it was fantastic! We had driven by it for years and never gone in. It's now a must see. You go through a series of rooms with aquariums designed to show off and educate on the underwater life at different depths, with a plethora of exotic fish and other magnificent ocean critters on display. There were two defninite WOW moments - the first was a floor to ceiling cylindrical (I'm guessing about 400 gallon) tank with nothing but jellyfish in it. They had a black light on the tank, and supressed lighting and some kind of new age music playing. It was hypnotic to watch the graceful movements of a deadly species. Speaking of deadly species, the second wow moment was walking around a corner and into a viewing room where you observed a SEVEN HUNRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND GALLON aquarium. Yup, that's 750,000 gallons! It had all kinds of smaller species, a bunch of sharks (tiger, hammerhead, and some others) and curious sea rays (sting rays) that would glide right up to the glass and observe you with a cold, predator's eye. They feed them a few times a day to supress the shark's appetites taking the edge off of their aggressiveness.

What really surprised me though was a fish called a Jack. Not too impressive looking (especially in this lousy image I found), but here's the kicker - these guys are among the most aggressive among predatory species. The week we visisted the Center, they had just introduced a young Tiger Shark into the tank. The Jacks did not take lightly this intrusion, and constantly harassed the shark, to the point that it started to become exhausted and the staff feared that the constant annoyance would fatigue the shark to the point where it would become fragile and undergo physical attack. Yup, to my surprise Jacks are aggressive enought to take on a shark!

Well, of all the species we observed I must say that most exotic, interesting and puzzling were of the human nature. Here's a sampling of what we observed:

1. Midwest/Southern/East Coast Tourists - easy to spot with their conservative dress, slight accents and references like "this tastes so much better than hot dish". The male of the species typically has a large, burnt belly which he will bring back to Boston, Birmingham or Biloxi.
   West Coast Tourists - Pacific Northwesterners can be identified by their wearing of socks with flip flops, and standing out in the rain just like they do in Seattle or Portland. Southern California visitors are almost indistinguishable from island residents with their tans and tattoos. I'm not sure why they come, as I think Maui is just an extension of the So Cal lifestyle (or the other way around!)
2. Condo Sales Staff - impeccably dressed in an Aloha shirt with white linen slacks, these are sharks of the land locked kind. My favorite one though was one lady who sported a bosom like a Humvee and a carriage built by Kenworth. Don't get me wrong, she was not fat but solid - and big. She was showing a very young couple(they seemed a bit intimidated), perhaps newlyweds; around the premises and I could just imagane what happened in the closing booth - SNAP! Goes the whip against the table. They both jump almost out of their chairs. "You vill purchase ze condo, no?" "No" they respond. "NO, the sales commandant replies, you say NEIN to mein offer?" "No, they reply - we mean yes" and start crying and say "yes, ve vill buy". WHAT, YOU NOW MOCK ME? Hysterical now they sob as she pushes the signature page across the desk. "Come, my liebchins; it shall be alright if you sign" as she clasps them to her bosom. Yikes!
3. The twins - this was the awww moment, there were twin oriental girls about 3 years old. They wore matching sunsuits and paraded around the pool with their papa, holding hands, giggling and whispering to each other. Cute was never cuter!
4. The hair club for men representative - this guy was fascinating to watch in almost a morbid way. His hair did not really come out of his head as much as it sat on top of his head. I swear, birds were circling looking to roost....
5. Tipping Man - he must have weighed about 275-300, and he was laying stomach down on the lounge at the pool. He was reading a book, with his head hanging off of the end. He had found the perfect equilibrium point where if he moved his head, he started to tip. With an ever so delicate push of his finger, he would gently return to the balance position. Amazing.
6. Local Boyz - this guy was a nut! I was on the lanai (deck) of our eigth floor unit one day, and looked down upon a public beach access parking lot. This guy drove in, and then his buddy; and they took out their windsurf boards and gear and began setting up. Apparently, they decided after a little bit that the conditions were not quite to their liking, so they went through the ritual again in reverse. Local boy number one was talking to a young lady, and although it was windy and I was high enough I could not hear their conversation, it seemed obvious that he was trying to pick her up (local boy number two had loaded his gear and walked down to the beach). Number one sauntered over to his vintage Jeep Cherokee with impressionable female, and tossed his board on the rack and walked with her back toward the beach. Number two had come up and went over to his truck. Well, the wind was blowing hard and sure enough it picked up number one's unrestrained board and flung it RIGHT ONTO NUMBER TWO'S BRAND NEW PICKUP. Even from where I was I heard a big BANG. Well, suffice to say by the hand gestures I observed they probably don't hang out too much together anymore, at least not that day.
7. Finally, there was Diving Man. There's one of these at every pool. As he rose to dive into the pool, everyone got slightly light headed. That's because there was a collective gasp from both male and female spectators as with envy and admiration the sharp intake of breath caused a minor atmospheric disturbance as the momentary lack of oxygen permeated the pool area. His rippled abs caused a refraction of the sunlight across the surface of the pool, it looked like diamonds dancing on the water and that along with his perfect white teeth set in a strong jaw reflected the tropical sun in such a brilliant way that everyone had to put on their sunglasses. He stretched slightly and the expansion of his bicep caused a momentary, minor eclipse as it blocked the sun. The epitome of youth, vigor and health he approached the edge and with just a slight exertion that caused his calves to look like cows, he cut into the water with such grace that not a drop of water was displaced. As he surfaced, he looked to see his wife Sherry pointing out that his clumsiness had splashed about fifty annoyed people! Turns out that I had slipped into a minor fantasy and quickly was returned to my middle aged existence. Sigh.

New Friends, Old Friends and No Friends on Maui!

One of the best things about vacations is meeting up with old friends, making time for new friends and then just being a wee bit selfish and spending time alone (the caveman in me coming out). I had just the perfect mix of all of the above. Sherry and I had some great social time together, and as always she is gracious to give me a little Dave time (that's the "no friends" reference) where I almost completed my entire reading list!

Our friends Dan and Kathy flew over from So Cal, and we had a blast hanging out with them. Dan and I have a friendship that spans decades, we met at some church youth group function in the early eighties. We were invited to attend a get together at someone's house, and they were playing these idiot games where the goal was to embarrass someone. They would send someone to a back bedroom, plot the setup and like lemmings to the sea the people would file back out to have everyone humilate them. Well, eventually they sent Dan and I to the bedroom. We quickly concluded that this was lame and agreed we weren't going to play their stupid games. We began climbing out of the window thinking that it would be a great payback, the disappearing new guys! Well, we were intercepted before we escaped by the hostess and let her know how we felt. We offended the group but began a great friendship! Here's a pic of Dan and Kathy:

We also met a super cool family from Placerville CA. Joanie and Cony, grandaughter Jaymie and daughter Dianne. Joanie has a sense of humor like I do, and it is probably good that we live in different states. We laughed so hard that we had tears in our eyes! It was great spending time with them as well. Here's Joanie and Cony:

We also met a wonderful gal named Kelly. She was next to us at the pool one day, and had to run an errand. She asked if we would mind watching her chaise lounge, and I said "sure I'll just toss my man purse on it". For those of you that don't know, a man purse is a non frilly container used to transport necessary items. My man purse was a plastic bag from a novelty story with a bottle of suntan lotion, my beach hat, a book, and the room key. Here's another example - when we got back from Hawaii I was looking high and low for a lunch bag to take to work. I spotted an empty paper bag in Sherry's suitcase and grabbed it. Let's just say I got a little ribbing for carrying around a bag that said "Cinammon Girl" on the side!

Anyway, Kelly had overheard Joanie, Sherry, Dianne, Jaymie and I talking about marriage and we struck up a conversation. Turns out that she thought I was married to Dianne and that Sherry was Joanie's daughter and that Jaymie was our daughter. Or something like that! In any event we sorted out the confusion and found that she was leaving so we adopted her for the rest of the day and had a wonderful time. Here's Kelly with Joanie and Sherry:

Well, with all that love floating around there was only one thing to do, and that was to immerse myself in it! Here's Dave with the wahines (Dianne is on my right and Jaymie is on my left):

We also got a kick out of the valet boys. That is not a local band, but the guys that park our car. They are a good natured bunch, helpful, fun and always ready to joke around. One day we came down and I was carry Sherry's floatie. I pretended to be unaware of of them, and would turn around and biff one of them. Then, turn the other way and biff another. We got a good laugh out of that. Here's Sherry with a few of them:

Finally, we close with a Maui tradition. Sherry and I were married on Maui nine years ago (Dan up above performed our wedding) and we have a tradition of going back to the same spot and kissing whenever we are back on Maui. Alhtough there is no background because of the darkness, here we are nine years later celebrating almost a decade together! Please note that a stray beach ball had just been kicked up underneath my shirt appearing like a midlife bulge:

Return to Racing on Maui

I had missed my scheduled races this summer, but it worked out where we found a race on Maui that would allow me to return to racing in a tropical paradise! The race was on Saturday, October 22 and the venue was a 5K (3.1 mile) off road trail run as part of the Nissan Xterra series (the pro race was on Sunday). Before we left for Maui I could review registration on the web, and it appeared that there were only 2 guys in my age group. I was virtually guaranteed a medal! Alas, 'twas not to be.

It turned out to be a much bigger event than I realized. The race director was a funny guy, he kept exhorting us to shout the event name (scramble, signifying an off road race) in his version of Japanese which came out something like "scccraaambula", and if you were a little ways away it sounded like a bunch of loonies yelling "spatula! spatula"! There was a 10K run that started 5 minutes before us 5K runners, and instead of a starter's gun to trigger the race they had some kind of a cannon! It went off with a huge BANG, and instead of running most people ducked. A bunch of birds were startled out of a tree and a little kid starting crying. Well, having seen the havoc he wreaked, the director decided on a good old fashioned countdown for the 5K.

Away we went! 8:00 am on a beautiful Maui day. Gentle downhill about an 1/8 of a mile on a nice paved road - this ain't so bad - bring it on! Well, on it was brung. We turned offroad, up a gradual hill for about 1/2 mile directly into the sun. Then, offroad we went running through unmaintained roads over lava rock in Makena (southern Maui) which is very arid. Wow - now we're running through cactus (hope there are no rattlesnakes on Maui). Tricky footing, baking heat, a 60 year old lady passing me, oh yeah this is why I enjoy racing. After about two miles I was huffing like a steam train, throwing sweat like a NBA basketball game. The muscles in my legs had expanded to the extent that they were pushing against the surface of my skin so hard that even if a mosquito had landed it would not have found purchase to bite me.

As usual, Sherry kicked my butt but I staggered across the finish line with my belly heaving and my senses leaving. Well, the race had filled with some local hotshots and I was displaced from a place on the winner's podium. But you know what? It was still a great event for me to return to racing, and to do it on Maui! Here's a picture of Sherry and I on the podium post race:

Maui No Ka Oi

We're back! We had a wonderful time on Maui, and as they say "Maui no ka oi", which means "Maui is the best". It was interesting this trip, we usually have a litany of activities planned, but we did only one "touristry" type thing this time. Otherwise, we went out for dinner every night (which we usually don't do on Maui), lots of poolisde, and of course snorkeling. When I think of Maui I think of many things (yes, our wedding included darling!) including scenes like this:

And this....

...that eventually led us to purchase a time share and return again and again!

Our favorite place to snorkel is at milepost 14 on highway 30 between Lahain and Ma'alea. We're familiar enough with the general vicinity that we know where to go, but otherwise you need to find the famous sign (see left). From this view going south, the ocean is on the right. Being blind as a bat, I get to rent a prescription mask and open the doors to another world. I love to swim, and by gently moving along you can cruise much farther out into the ocean than you would think, the slope is very gentle here. It's awesome to cruise through coral lined canyons and then be still as scores of beautiful fish come to you. Sherry is not much of a water wahine, she's more of a beach babe. She had brought along a floatie (i.e. air mattress) and had a wonderful time floating around as I snorkeled. After we came in, she walked away from the floatie and a gust of wind snatched it up and instantly hurled it about 30 feet away in the water. I grabbed my mask, snorkel and flippers and headed into the water just to see another gust fling it another 20 or 30 feet. I was vacillating a little and then started to go in, but I realized that at sea level I could not pick out the mattress at all and we wrote it off. Looking at the tradewind and current charts, we believe it is near baja California by now!

Hanging out at the pool is one of our favorite activities. It's nice to go to the beach in the morning when it is calm, and then when the sun warms up the land and the air starts rising and hits the tradewinds the afternoon blows start. That's when it is good to come in and have an iced mocha and hit the pool.

Now, as referenced above my vision is, shall we say; problematic. The problem was that my prescription sunglasses are for distance only, and so when I read at the pool I was constantly trying to find an eye-comfortable position to hold my book to no avail. I realized I just needed some inexpensive sunglasses with no correction. Anything in the distance would be a blur but it should be just right for reading up close. Because all of life's answers can be found in Rock Music I realized it was just as ZZ Top told us:

When you get up in the morning and the light has hurt your head, the first thing you do when you get up out of bed is hit that streets a-runnin and try to beat the masses, and go get yourself some cheap sunglasses Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

Yeah, yeah yeah - so off I went to the little pool hut, where all your pool and beach needs could be rented or purchased and even charged to your room! Explaining my need for low buck bespectacled bliss, the helpful attendent handed me a pair and said "these are 2.50". Not bad! I replied that I might be inclined to spend a tad more. "Sure, no problem - these are 3.15" Wow, they were sharp looking and filtered the UV like dust through a Hoover. Suddenly, I had this bad feeling - indeed, the cheap ones were $250.00! The upgraded pair was THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN DOLLARS! For sunglasses! Forget Maui Jim and get me to the ABC Store!

My ABC CTS (Cheap Tourist Sunglasses) served me well. At one point I'm hanging out under a palm tree reading a book when in my peripheral vision I see (although not clearly) what appeared to be an attractive woman approaching me. She got closer and said in a perky voice "hi"! I put on my Joey voice and replied "how you doin?". Her scowl revealed both her distaste of middle age men that look more than a little like Tom Cruse, but also the fact that indeed she was talking on her cell phone! I pretended to not be there.

My favorite souvenier shop on Maui is a t-shirt store called Tropix on Front Street in Lahaina. It is so 'hip' and 'cool' that it doesn't have a website. As I purchased my shirt, I mentioned to the pierced, streaked and tattooed cashier that I love the store. When she asked why, I replied that "it's better than botox - when I come in here and get a shirt it takes 20 years off of my life - I go from an oveweight, stressed out grey haired desk jockey to a blond 19 year old surfer dude". She thought that was hysterical, but I still didn't get a senior citizen discount!

Fun in elevators

One day, leaving our room and heading down to the pool; I noticed an unmarked door that was open, and peeking in I spotted a service elevator. Cool, a way to avoid the stopping-on-every-floor-and-jamming-in-with-all-the-other-sweaty-tourists regular elevators! I ducked in, pushed LL for lower lobby (where access to the pool can be found) and down I went - 8th floor to LL without one stop and no one else in the elevator! Well, when the door opened I was truly and utterly confused. I looked out into the kitchen where the resort head chef was looking back at me - picture the scene, here's a working area where the unseen operations of a huge island resort take place out of view of most people, and Dave Mundt with his shades and flip flops steps out of the elevator and states "hey, I'm a little lost". The chef lost it! He almost tossed his salad (clever chef joke) as he burst out laughing. Then I started laughing. How fun! The next day I played the same trick, but dragged Sherry and our friends Dan and Kathy along - a veritable vertical pool parade emerged from the elevator doors again - we had the staff laughing so hard as we played dumb (not too hard for me) and wandered through the kitchen on our way to the pool.

Sherry and I also have a custom of kissing in elevators. We're not superstitious by any means, but should the cable break and we plunge to a shattering and violent death; it's nice to know that that was our last act in time before we enter eternity. It was fun to keep a straight face and in a deadpan delivery inform the elevator occupants of our custom and ask if they would be offended if we kissed. It was a blast to watch their reactions! One night after returning from dinner we shared the elevator with a bunch of older, inebriated, retired, luau partygoers. I made my usual announcement, and the next thing I know Sherry and I were in a group hug where everyone was kissing their respective spouse! I think one guy actually planted one on my cheeck on accident before he found his wife, but I try not to dwell on it.

Anyway, that's just a few of our precious Maui memories!

Maui Reading List

One of the things I really enjoy about vacations is the chance to read. I mean, really read - a soft tropical breeze blowing through my hair, on a sandy beach on Maui where there is nothing to do except turn the pages as the sun moves lazily across the horizon. I've always loved reading, and once earned a library certificate when I was a kid by reading 50 (fifty!) books in one summer. Yup, while all the other California kids were flying kites, building forts, playing hide and seek I was ensconced in the local library plowing through books.

One fond memory I have is at my Grandpa and Grandma's house in Quartz Hill, California. When the weather turned cool I would fetch Grandpa's old army jacket, grab a stack of Reader's Digest condensed books and sit in a utility trailer reading away the hours under the weak winter sun.

I also love to read on planes - and with a five hour flight there and back, that's TEN hours of reading time! Yeah, I'm a nerd. What can I say?

Anyway, here is my vacation reading list. Let's see how much of it I can burn through!

1. November 2006 Reader's Digest
2. Ecclesiastes and Jeremiah (on my Bible reading plan; eBook)
3. The Lincoln Lawyer (eBook)
4. Freakanomics (eBook)
5. The Greater Good (hardcover)
6. Plan of Attack (hardcover)
7. Christian Research Journal (magazine)
8. Calvinism in the Las Vegas Airport (hardcover)
9. October 10 Time Magazine
10. October 2005 Guideposts (magazine)
11. October 2005 Business 2.0 (magazine, with a hidden past due garbage bill inside - D'oh!)
12. The Peloponnesian War (hardcover, a reaaalllly big hardback)
13. November 2005 Bicycling (magazine)
14. October 2005 Wired (magazine)
15. November 2005 Runner's World (magazine)
16. October 2005 Fast Company (magazine)

Seizure Story Number Four - On the Road Again!

Wednesday September 28th started as usual, but had enormous implications for the next few days. Yet again the technician's needle would find my vein like a starving mosquito on a Jenny Craig diet and pull from my body a sample of blood. The objective though was not nourishment (insert vampire joke here) but confirmation that I had enough drugs built up in my body to resume driving and a normal life.

Sherry drove me to the same lab, and finding I had a different tech it was time again to have some fun! Because I had already set Jill up as my lawyer (see Seizure Story Number Three), I figured I would introduce Sherry as yet another member of my entourage. Sherry had picked me up directly from a business appointment she had, and she looked stunning as always. When the tech called me, I asked if it was OK to have my publicist accompany me. The tech said "what"? and I responded with "Oh, I'm sorry - my medical condition is being written up in a series of articles for Time magazine". It was at that point that Sherry lost it and started laughing! With her cover blown, there was nothing left but to get stuck (with the needle, not in traffic).

The normal part of my life is pending a psychiatric review, but in speaking with the neurologist on Thursday September 29 it was a mostly good news scenario. The Dilantin level had built up to a 9, with a target range of 10-20. Therefore, I was a skosh (this is a medical term I've picked up on my journey) shy of where I needed to be. I was advised to increase my Dilantin to 600mg a day (300 at night, 300 at morning) and then resume driving on Monday, October 3 without having to take another test.

Woo Hoo! So close, and yet so far. The weekend minutes crawled by slower than a slug on a salt shaker. I was tempted to maybe go for a short Sunday drive, but wisdom reigned and I resisted.

Monday morning brought the usual routine, culminating with my habit of preparing a commuter mug of coffee. I slipped behind the wheel, started the truck, backed out of the garage and then looking at the ruins of the garage door realized I had forgotten to open it!

Ha, just kidding. Here's the weird thing - I slipped immediately into auto pilot, and was a third of the way to work on Highway 217 before I realized I'M DRIVING AGAIN! In delight and glee I flashed my lights, honked my horn and waved at my dear, fellow commuters! Look everyone, I'm driving! I'm driving!

Many people to my surprise waved back! It was interesting though how many of them had apparently injured their hands as only certain fingers were extended. No matter, if that's the way they wave now in Oregon then by golly I'll wave like that too! What a bunch of friendly people drive on 217 every day.

I have resumed running, and although I was very disappointed to miss Hood to Coast and the Portland Marathon thanks to a nifty little gizmo provided by RoadID...

...I can ensure that I can be identified should I have a seizure or otherwise incapacitate myself whilst running or cycling. The inscription I chose goes like this:

If you found Dave,

He's likely hurt,

First call Sherry,

Then get him out of the dirt.

Clever, eh? That should help emergency responders tremendously to quickly ascertain what happened to me and why!

Well dear reader, my life has changed. I have made new friends (thanks B!) who can understand my confusion, frustration and fears and encourage me. Thanks Patty, Greg, Jennifer, Devin and Rick who selflessly volunteered to give me rides to work. Thanks to Robbin who responded to my shameless tactic in my previous update and made me a batch of her world famous chocolate chip cookies. Thanks to all of you for the emails, phone calls and cards!

Although I put on a good game face, as I mentioned there have been dark moments as well. One day I was rummaging through my backpack and found the release from the Emergency Room and in stark, cold, clinical, sterile language it said "You have had a seizure". My eyes filled with tears as I was faced with the new realities in my life. I leave you with this prayer that I came across that has brought me great encouragement and peace, and whatever you are going through in life I hope it brings you grace and peace also:

The Prayer by Thomas Merton (from Thoughts in Solitude)

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me, I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you, and I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may seem to be lost in the valley of the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Six signs you think about theology too much...

1. Your bumper sticker reads "honk if you are a Supralapsarian"
2. You have a poster of Jonathon Edwards on your bedroom wall
3. You read "Freedom of the Will" to your three year old at bedtime.
4. You are disappointed, yet again; that the annual Canby Tulip Festival is about flowers.
5. You think "Will and Grace" is a sitcom about two roommates of which one is an Arminian and the other is a Calvinist.
6. And number six - you actually get these jokes!!!

You know your'e addicted to cycling when...

Thanks to Patty who passed this along! I still crack up everytime I read #1.

1. Your surgeon tells you that you need a heart valve replacement and you ask if you have a choice between presta and schrader.
2. Numbers aren't a lewd measurement reference to the latest hottie, but to that new gear ratio you were considering for your bike.
3. A Power Bar starts tasting better than a Snickers.
4. You wear your heart monitor to bed to make sure you stay within your target zones during any extracurricular activities.
5. The funeral director tells you "NO! You can't ride your Colnago in the funeral procession", even if you agree to keep your headlight on.
6. You experience an unreasonable envy over someone who has a handlebar stem, that's lower and longer than yours.
7. You're too tired for hanky-panky on a Friday night but are more than able to jump out for a five-hour century on Saturday.
8. Your spouse tells you the only way they'll let you ride across the country is over their dead body, so you tell them, "If that's the way you want it, you can be my first speed bump!"
9. You no longer require a hankie to blow your nose.
10. You have stopped even trying to explain to your spouse why you need two bikes...you just go buy another one and figure it will all work out in the divorce settlement.
11. You convert your car's brake and gas pedals to clipless.
12. You see nothing wrong with discussing the connection between hydration and urine color.
13. You find your SIDI cycling shoes to be more comfortable and stylish than your best pair of sneakers.
14. You have more money invested in your bike clothes than in the rest of your entire wardrobe.
15. 'Biker Chick' means: skimpy black lycra...Not, skimpy black leather (on a Harley.)
16. You see a fit, tanned, Lycra-clad young woman ride by, and the first thing you check out is her bicycle.
17. You empathize with the road kill.
18. Despite all that winter fat you put on, you'll cut weight first by buying the latest carbon and titanium components.
19. Your mud guards are made out of milk jugs (or water bottles.)
20. You yell "Hole!" and reach out the window to 'point down' when you see a pothole when driving your car.
21. Your bike has more miles on its computer, then your car has on it's odometer.
22. You wear your favorite team's riding gloves when driving your car.
23. You wear your bike shorts as underwear...'just in case' someone invites you out on a last minute ride.
24. You wear Cycle Oregon and Tour De Lance T-shirts all the time, including under dress shirts.
25. You buy a mini-van and immediately remove the rear seats to make room for your bikes to fit.
26. When you move to a new area the first thing you look for is a bike shop.
27. You have more bike jerseys than dress shirts.
28. You take your bike along when you shop for a car -just to make sure the bike will fit inside.
29. You use the Yakima or Thule 'Fit Catalog' to pick your next new car (instead of Consumer Reports.)
30. You start yelling at cars to "Hold your line!"
31. You view crashes as an opportunity to upgrade components and wardrobe.
32. You clean your bike(s) more often then your car.
33. You're on the Board of Directors for a Bike Club.
34. You and your significant other have and wear identical riding clothes.
35. You mount a $600 topper on a $1,000 pickup truck so your $3,000 bike doesn't get wet.
36. You can't seem to get to work by 8:30 AM, even for important meetings, but you don't have any problems at all meeting your buddies at 5:30 AM for a hammerfest.
37. You can tell your spouse, with a straight face, that it'll be too hot tomorrow to mow the lawn...but then get up first thing and bike off for a century.
38. You regard inter-gender discussion of genital discomfort as normal.
39. You know your cadence, but you have no idea what your speed is.
40. When driving your car, you sometime like to lean over the steering wheel, just like an aerobar.
41. Your car(s) sit(s) outside your garage because your garage is full of bikes and spare cycling parts.
42. You like to tailgate semi-trailers to get the drafting effect.
43. The Bike Nashbar customer order number is on your speed dial.
44. You hear someone had a crash and your first question is: "How's the bike?"
45. You smile at your evening date, and she politely points out that you appear to have bugs in your teeth.
46. You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who are addicted to cycling like you.

Don't try this at home

DISCLAIMER: This post is rated PG, as parents should not allow teenage drivers to read the incident described below. Furthermore, this should not be attempted by anyone without a mature attitude toward driving as vindicated by a ticketless record.

It seems that Infiniti has come up with a radical new approach to driving safety. As cited in a recent advertisement, at 60 MPH you travel 88 feet in ONE SECOND (emphasis added). If something distracts you, that could be 88 feet in the wrong direction. According to the National Highway Transportation Safety Administration:

"...55% of fatal accidents are caused by drivers leaving their lane"

Infiniti responded by developing a Lane Departure Warning System. A camera behind the rearview mirror recognizes the visible lane markings. Next, a microprocessor compares vehicle speed and lane position to determine if the car is about to leave the lane. Then, visual and audio warnings alert the driver. Finally, a blood sample is quickly and painlessly obtained through a needle system in the driver's seat that gently pricks the buttocks to determine if alcohol content is a factor, shutting the engine off if the blood alcohol reading exceeds legal limits (OK, I'm making that last part up!).

Many years ago, I had the opportunity to actually road test Infiniti's concept sans technology! I was driving my 1970 El Camino...
... from Redding California to Sacramento. As you may know, south of Willows things get a little boring. Yeah, maybe even a little more than boring. No scenery, a long flat section of I-5, little traffic, and a hot summer day led to implementing various strategies to keep awake.

At one point, I noticed looking in the rear view mirror that I could see a reflection of the road ahead, in my sunglasses. Although the image was very small, and I confess to using a little bit of peripheral vision, I actually drove quite a ways by looking at the reflected image of the road ahead as returned by my rear view mirror into my sunglasses! If only I had applied for a patent at that time.

I'm gonna be rich

Well, I call this the summer that never was. Due to an intense project at work, and then my subsequent seizures; I really didn't get to enjoy the beautiful Oregon summer. But Fall is officially here, and you may ask "how do you know this"? Is it because every other household in the greater Portland area has someone heading to central Oregon to shoot something (we call this "hunting")? Is it because the wee ones are back in our nationally famous public school system? Could it be linked to the "flaming fall foliage" (I wish I coined that but kudos go to the Oregonian)? All of these could be true but...

It's because of traffic accidents.

You would think that if anyone knows how to drive in the rain, it's Oregonians; right? Wrong! Take an unseasonably mild and dry September, add pouring rains the last day of the month extending into the first few days of October and what do you get but traffic accidents!

So Monday evening on my way home from work. Uh oh! A recent shower left the pavement wet and the sun was peeking out - danger Will Robinson! I manage to make it through the nightmare of construction we like to call Highway 26 and then get on 217 southbound where I run into a wall of stopped cars. Gradually, as a surgeon directs the scalpel, as a fisherman threads the worm onto the hook, emergency response vehicles delicately dance their way through the traffic. Sure enough, a few miles south an accident caused the universal response of rubbernecking to bring things to a halt.

So, here's my idea - I call it the DMTAPC (Dave Mundt Traffic Accident Privacy Curtain). A collapsible, eight foot high frame from which drapes may hang, concealing not only the wreck but the emergency vehicles as well. Therefore - there's nothing to see here folks, move along! Due to the denial of an interesting crash scene, traffic moves right along as if nothing had ever happened. I thought even more revenue could be generated by selling advertising on the curtains, but in the American way I'm sure some enterprising individuals would stage accidents just so their products would be prominently displayed. Therefore, the curtains will remain in subdued but pleasantly and tastefully decorations.

Anyone interested in fronting me some venture capital?

Gosh Dang it all to Heck

Well, it's been a year now since Dale Earnhardt JR's "indescretion" on Sunday October 3rd 2004 at Talladega:While conducting his victory lane interview, Earnhardt Jr uttered the ‘S' word on live TV when asked what his fifth career victory at the 2.66 mile tri-oval meant in the great scheme of things.f things. Earnhardt Jr's answer, a candid ‘It don't mean s**t right now,' related to the fact that his late father Dale Earnhardt holds ten career victories at Talladega.Dale was fined $10,000 (which is a paltry slap when you think that he made almost $5,000,000 last season) but more importantly NASCAR officials slammed him with a 25 point fine, which actually dropped him from first to second place in the overall standings. All this for a public use of a curse word!

An article in the Saturday September 24th edition of the (Portland) Oregonian noted that "...kids are pushing cussing customs". The article quotes English professor James Farrelly who states that:

"For the last forty years, a steady flow of previously verbotenwords has been making its way out of the gutter and into the mainstream of ordinary speech, vying for social acceptance and at least universal tolerance from the dotty senior set"

Words like bite, sucks and holy crap permeate our culture like freakin' traffic jams on major highways at rush hour. Along with their candid cousins (and you know what I mean!) our family of the American lexicon is reflected in our culture in music, movies and print venues. I heard a definition once that swearing was "the attempt of a feeble mind to express itself forcefully". Well, I'm not so sure about that anymore. I know some people who are much smarter than me (oh yeah, there is a Mensa member in that mix) whose language would cause the proverbial sailor to blush.

Interestingly enough, I'm not as offended as I used to be by this shift in language. Maybe I'm becoming less judgmental? Perhaps I'm becoming desensitized? Perhaps. I do know though that I am reminded of the plank in my own eye when trying to point out the toothpick in others. My conclusion: I would do well to remember the words of the Psalmist as recorded in 19:4 (NLT):

"May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer"