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"

If a tree falls in the forest....

...and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

A few nights ago I had a dream in which I was a rock star. I don't remember cheering crowds, but I do remember playing an awesome Fender Stratocaster with an adjustable 12 saddle hardtail bridge and a Maple neck with a Rosewood fingerboard.

In my dream I was playing this incredible riff, my fingers were dancing on the frets like a duck on a June bug. Faster and faster I played, scaling new heights of musical mastery while sweat flung off my brow and my wrists became cramped under the intensity of the movements. My calloused fingers flew dear friend, as a melody escaped the strings like a steam from a vintage Rambler's radiator on a 110 degree desert day.

The tune I was playing was clearly the work of genius, and as I began to wake I still had wisps of it in my mind. I think the influence for my dream may have been last weekend when we had our first service in our new church building. We are blessed to have some of Portland's most talented musicians in our midst, including guitar players Tim Ellis, Chad & Rachel Hamar, and Rob Stroup (former frontman for the Baseboard Heaters and now with the Imprints). The service was incredible not only for the music which was fantastic, but for the message as well. I had some of the songs in my mind for days and I think that precipitated the dream.

Anyway, when I woke I wondered if there had truly been music in my dream - was there something tangible or just a fig newton of my imagination? It made me think of the old question

"If a tree falls in the forest and nobody hears it, does it really make a sound?"

Well, imagine to my suprise that it does make a sound, but a different sound if somebody is nearby! According to my reliable sources (that would be, er ahem...the internet):

Apparently, when a tree is about to fall, if it senses a human nearby the biological stresses of human presence cause the cell walls in the plant to become brittle and it is the cell brittleness responsible for the familiar sound we know as that of a tree fall. The cell brittleness also has significant effects to the quality of the lumber, making it much more suitable for use in construction.

Okay then...well, we've probably all heard the noise of a tree falling, but again the miracle of science has provided us with a tape recording of a tree falling in the forest without the presence of human beings in the vicinity. Enjoy!

Calvinism is Cool

I had a delightful conversation recently with a friend, Joey; whom I had not spoken with in several years. I saw his sister one day in Starbucks, and she gave me his contact information which I promptly lost - but then google of all things turned him up for me! Anyway, we both had a good chuckle at the fact that we are theology wonks. You may be wondering, what pray tell is a theology wonk? Well, you might just be a theology wonk if you understand this list - and like it!

Calvinism is cool because:

1. Calvinists tend to wear wool and cotton. Dispensationalists tend to wear lime-green polyester leisure suits.
2. John Calvin was French...being French is very chic.
3. Calvin sounds like Calvin Klein...and his clothes are very chic.
4. Calvinists can drink.
5. Calvinists can smoke.
6. Dispensationalists are into prophecy conferences where they talk about Star-Trek eschatology and the mark of the Beast. Calvinists have conferences on "life and culture", art, social justice, and other high- brow things like that. Afterwards, we go to the local pub and talk about philosophy over a pint of Bass ale.
7. Calvinists have close ties with Scotland and Scotland is very cool: you know --Sean Connery, the movie Highlander, Bagpipes, the Loch Ness Monster, Glenlivet 18 year old Scotch, the movie Train Spotting, Brave Heart, etc.
8. Calvinists think we are smarter than anybody else.
9. It is more socially acceptable to say, "I go to Grace Presbyterian Church" than to say, "I go to Washed In The Blood Worship Center", "I go to Sonlife Charismatic Believers Assembly", or to say "I go to Boston Berean Bible Believing Baptist Bethel", or to say "I go to the Latter-Day- Rain Deliverance Tabernacle Prophecy Center, Inc.", or to say "I go to the Philadelphia Church of the Majority Text", or to say "I go to the Lithuanian Apostolic Orthodox Autocephalic Church of the Baltic union of 1838".
10. Ultimately, I am a Calvinist because I had no choice in the matter.

Credits - I have forgotten where I came across this, but I think it was at the Boar's Head Tavern.

Seizure Story Number Three - 9/10/2005

Wow! I want to thank you all for your prayers, support, and the anonymous batch of fresh chocolate chip cookies that were left on our porch. Oh wait! That hasn’t happened yet! J Truly, I am blessed and humbled by your friendship. You have all been faithful with emails, phone calls, encouragement, post-church poker games, and even rides. Before my update, I want to mention that my issues pale next to many, even on this distribution there are families that have suffered far more than I have. Just this morning I was talking with my friend who has terminal cancer, chemo is not working, and he has been given a timeframe of little more than a year to live. Yet, he is joking, focused on God and his family, and is loving life (we even shared a laugh that with a terminal illness he is still a better baseball player than I’ll ever be!). Maybe the only reason that I’ll ever have this side of heaven for my seizures is that it has given me compassion and a little bit more understanding for those who are suffering.

Well, there she was – beautiful and elegant, sophisticated and sexy, clean, attractive and alluring. Behind her stood my wife – smiling as she presented me with my birthday present – she had had my 98 Ford Ranger detailed! The black paint sparkled and everything was washed, waxed, polished, shampooed or shining with Armor All. We knew that the next day’s blood test would confirm MY FREEDOM TO DRIVE AGAIN and I would resume it with one nice ride.

Alas, ‘twas not to be! My friend who shall remain anonymous but whose name rhymes with ‘pill heaven’ (kind of sounds like ‘Jill Blevins’, doesn’t it?) gave me a ride to the clinic. It was a sterile, dry place that had – you guessed it – Highlights magazines! Oh, those childhood memories of Goofus and Gallant (Gallant lights the fire in the barbecue for dad, Goofus burns the garage down with dad in it). Well, when my name was called I didn’t want Jill to be bored so I advised the technician that due to legal circumstances surrounding my illness my lawyer needed to accompany me for the test. The lab tech looked at me kind of odd for a moment (perhaps it was indigestion) and then said sure, that would be fine. As the tech stuck me with a horrendously long needle and began to draw a little vial of blood she mentioned that she would need to draw another one. I looked at Jill and said ‘is that permissible’? Jill bit her lip to keep from laughing and managed to choke out that she didn’t have any issues with that. The tech rolled her eyes and I’m not sure but as she withdrew the needle I think she wiggled it just a little bit to teach me a lesson. Ouch.

The next day the doc called and laid down the law – no driving for ANOTHER THREE WEEKS. Sigh, I am probably the only guy you know who is required to take tests to ensure that I have enough drugs in me to drive! And, to dispel the rumors at work I am not applying for medical marijuana (where do people get these ideas?!?). Apparently the Dilantin level needs to be between 10-20, and even after 2 weeks of taking 400 mg a day it’s only at 7. Now, I sprinkle Dilantin on my cereal, put one in my mocha, and jam a few underneath my fingernails – anything to get enough of it into my system.

I had my MRI with contrast and it was cool. They injected me with some kind of metallic fluid (I think the tech said gallanium (sp?) but it might have been decommissioned cooling water from the Hanford nuclear reservation for all I know. Apparently the metallic properties ‘fill in’ some of the gaps between nerve endings temporarily with the net result being my head became a receiver for radio waves. By moving my tongue to different parts of my mouth and pulling simultaneously on my earlobes I could actually scan the FM dial. OK, I’m just making that up! It went really fast and when I got home I logged on to my work email and sent my boss a note. She replied and said “are you done with your brain scan already?” I couldn’t resist the opening and replied “well when you only have half a brain it doesn’t take long”. Badump dump bang!

The good news is that both my MRI and the EEG are absolutely fine. So, there is still no medical explanation for what is happening (Sherry is willing to share her psychological explanation though with anyone who will listen! J). I feel fine, and am getting over the initial side effects from taking the drug. I am a bit discouraged about another 3 weeks of no driving, and being potential tied to a drug for the rest of my life; but I pause now and then and think about the horrors of hurricane Katrina, the difficulties many families face with loved ones in Iraq and Afghanistan and elsewhere, the fact that I have a job and a home and a wife to come home to every night, a wonderful church to find eternal truth and relationships in, and my only conclusion is….I am blessed.

Seizure Story Number Two - 8/27/2005

I had the EEG on Wednesday, and it was fascinating – the technician pasted about 30 electrodes all over my head and looked at my brain waves as they were being displayed on the computer screen and being recorded for a neurologist to ‘read’. I watched the waves scroll across the screen, then in utter fascination watched them spell out the words ‘mene, mene tekel upsharin’ which I believe is Sanskrit for “bring me some cookie dough ice cream – stat!”. Oh wait, that was just my imagination. The technician was a lot of fun, and part of my test was to flash a strobe light at various intervals onto my closed eyelids. It was bright as day, even with my eyes closed. The purpose was to stimulate some stress and see how my brain reacted. She (the tech) mentioned that at Cher’s 513 th farewell concert they had 2 people brought into their ER due to strobe light induced seizure (Personally, I think a Cher concert alone would be enough to induce a seizure – THIEVES, THIEVES, TRAMPS AND THIEVES – AUUUUGH!). The technician said that my brain waves looked good; she didn’t see any abnormalities – hopefully the neurologist would say the same thing.

Thursday - who could tell that a seemingly normal day would end up (as Bert says) crazier than a peach orchard boar? I got good nights sleep and was feeling relaxed and confident going into the day. About 8:45, I felt like I had some flu symptoms – almost like an out of body experience (later on I would find this is called an aura and commonly precedes a seizure). Next thing I knew I was in an ambulance enroute to the ER, having had a massive seizure and flopping around the carpet at work like a duck on a June bug. I came to a little bit and remember asking the paramedic “what is happening to me, I don’t understand?” and then lapsing again into unconsciousness. There was a danger in that a seizure victim’s muscles typically contract very hard, and in my case the ER personnel were concerned that my bicep contractions, due to their large size; would create a mini-shock wave as they displaced the air around some of the sensitive instruments. Oh wait, I guess that was still part of my unconscious fantasy….

So now, I’m not in denial anymore! And as you all have been aware for many years and that I’m just coming to grips with, there is something definitely wrong with my brain. I’m still very sore all over from the muscle contractions, I feel like a human piñata. I’m on medication to prevent seizures, and see the neurologist again on Tuesday. I want to thank all of you for your calls, prayers and emails. I have truly felt an outpouring of love and concern that humbles me. I don’t know what’s down this road for me, but I know I don’t go it alone – and I’m grateful to God and all of you! So, here are my prayer requests:

1. It’s now a very real possibility that my license will be revoked, and my ability to do triathlons (or swim, bike and run). Please pray that the doctors will find the suitable treatment that will allow me to resume a normal life!
2. Please pray that I will resist the temptation to ‘fake’ a seizure in front of Sherry for a practical joke – I’ve already been tempted and I think she would kill me if the seizure didn’t.
3. Kip, a special request – if I go down in church, would you perhaps just let everyone know that this isn’t an Ananias/Sapphira type of judgment? Thanks!

Seizure Story Number One - 8/18/2005

There have been some rumors circulating about me for a few weeks that I wanted to bring some clarification to in the interest of the pursuit of truth:

1. Dave Mundt has been cloned in a secret lab in North Korea: Not True!
2. An extensive genealogical study has discovered that Dave Mundt is third in line to sit on the British throne: Not True!
3. Dave Mundt had a seizure: True!
   
   

On Wednesday July 20 I suffered a seizure at home early in the morning (Sherry was walking the dog). I went from sitting on the couch working on my laptop to regaining consciousness about an hour later, in bed; with horrible confusion and terrible pain. I had thrown my back out, chewed my tongue raw, and had a few significant bruises. Apparently all my major muscle groups had flooded with lactic acid as my legs and arms were very sore. I have no memory of that lost hour and have no idea what was happening. The good news is that I saved a bunch of money by switching…just kidding! The good news is that the MRI came back clean, I don’t have a brain tumor and I didn’t have a stroke.

I’ve had a few emotional ups and downs about all this, with the most significant being anger – feeling violated and lost for an hour thrashing around and being injured without the ability to stop whatever was going on (actually, that’s a pretty good description of my typical mornings before coffee). I was praying about the whole episode and as clear as I’ve ever heard the Lord speak, I heard him say softly to my spirit that during the episode He was cradling me and protecting me from more extensive damage. Brought tears to my eyes, let me tell you!

Being faced with my own mortality has given me pause to think that should I be called home and my ticket is punched for that train to Chicago, that I wouldn’t want my service to SouthLake and the people I love so much be interrupted so:

1. If I pass out during a wedding - Steve, Cammie and Diane have heard me officiate enough that they can drag me aside and finish up.
2. Kelli is more than capable of continuing Foundations with me ‘in absentia’. If a question comes up that you can’t answer, just tell ‘em we’ll discuss that when we talk about supralapsarianism in the context of the pre-millennial Trinitarian eschaton.
3. There are many wonderful teachers at Southlake who can partner with Barb for the weekend sermon notes (I finally met Andy Cramer Saturday night!).
4. Reid can take over doing circumcisions.
5. Bill, I’m not sure who can replace me on the Worship Team – oh wait, I’m not on the Worship Team – just a wannabee!

I’ve also given thought to my memorial service:

1. I’d like Ken Belden, Brad Eller, Charlie Blevins and Daryl Stewart to do a barbershop quartet a cappella version of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. I’d like Wilson Smith to choreograph.
2. I’d like Todd Hing and Len Winkler to light a candle for each year I lived.
3. I’d like Reid Smith and Scott Trumbo to deliver the eulogy. To the tune of ‘The Brady Bunch’.
4. I’d like my dear wife Sherry to serve my favorite food, weenie wraps.
5. I’d like my good friend Dan Riley to tell a few stories about our adventures in life.
6. I’d like Jill Blevins, Cheri Harris, Liz Martin and Sherry Mundt to do a salon quartet and sing Amazing Grace. Wilson to choreograph.
7. Finally, I thought I’d ask Charlie Blevins and Steve Abrew to scatter my ashes from a speeding patrol car doing about 110 mph going down I-5 with the lights and siren flashing. But then, because of my belief in a physical resurrection I don’t think I want to be cremated. So Charlie and Steve, again with lights and siren flashing at a high rate of speed just chuck my body out the window.
   

Won’t that be fun! I have an EEG coming up next week where they will look for abnormalities in my brain waves (yeah, yeah go ahead and insert Dave Mundt joke here). From what the neurologist tells me, the worst case scenario is that they find something and revoke my driver’s license and make me take medication for the rest of my life. The best case scenario, and this is what the doctors believe, is that we’ll never know what happened and life goes on. Guess which way I’m praying! Because I have no other physical symptoms (headaches, dizziness, vision problems) that can accompany a seizure I’m probably still in a little bit of denial.

Anyway, that’s the scoop on what’s going on with me. And that’s the truth!

Cain's Wife

An interesting question came to me a few days ago, and it went like this:

A co-worker brought up a question regarding creation/evolution yesterday. I was looking for the answer and was a little puzzled as to where Cain's wife came from (Gen. 4:17). My co-worker once was told that Adam & Eve were created by God and had Cain and Abel. She knew that Cain killed Abel (and thought that there were no other children by Adam & Eve, which is clearly not true according to the Bible) but then the speaker - whomever she was listening to - said that was where evolution came in and the rest of the human race came
from.

Here's my reply:

That’s a great question, and is very important to answer appropriately for three primary reasons:

1. The authority and inerrancy of the Bible.
2. Who is eligible for salvation?
3. Doesn't the Bible teach against family intermarriage, thus this would be an internal contradiction and undermine scripture?
   
   
   Let’s look at the first point – the authority and inerrancy (without error) of the Bible. As you pointed out your friend thought that there were no other children by Adam and Eve which as you correctly stated is wrong (see Genesis 5:4,5 - After he begot Seth, the days of Adam were eight hundred years; and he had sons and daughters. So all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and thirty years; and he died.). So first of all we have an issue with the authority of scripture where the speaker now is at conflict with what the Bible teaches. We know the Bible is true for several reasons, but a short answer is the acronym MAPS – the M is for manuscript evidence, more than any document in antiquity the ancient manuscripts prove themselves to be in agreement and have an amazing degree of accuracy. The A is for archeological discovery, where the Bible talks about locations archeology and history are in agreement not conflict. The P is for prophecies fulfilled, where statements recorded in the Bible prior to the event actually happening occur just as prophesied. The S stands for statistical probability, which relates to the vast period of time over which the Bible was written, in palaces and prisons, by kings and shepherds, yet there is a singular message and theme that weaves the books of the Bible together. So, if there is an opinion or statement that contradicts the Bible, we would hold the Bible to be the truth.
   
   The second point is who is eligible to receive salvation. As you related, your friend said that the speaker she heard mentioned that after Adam and Eve evolution started (my assumption is to then propagate the rest of the human race). Wow! That creates a huge problem. The Bible is very explicit that just as sin entered the human race through Adam and Eve, salvation will be provided to the human race through Jesus – the second Adam (see Romans chapter 5 and 1 Corinthians 15). If the speaker’s assertions are true, we would have not two different races, but two different SPECIES – mankind created by God, and other “people” (but then they couldn’t even be called “people”!) created by evolution. The Bible is clear that the descendants of Adam are eligible for salvation. How could these other creatures be saved then? It would require some pretty wild conjecture to try to bridge that gap!
   
   Finally, doesn’t the Bible teach against marrying within one’s family? It does (see Leviticus 20) but it is important to note that was many years (likely 2,000+) after Adam and Eve that the law was given. By that time, there was good reason as just as sin spread through every human post Adam (again see Romans 5), the effects of sin began to spread including (we believe) genetic imperfection that make it important to not marry or birth defects would and would occur.
   
   To summarize, we believe that Cain did marry a sister or cousin, but it is important to recognize that with Adam’s long life (hundreds of years) there were likely to be many, many of his children that began to inhabit the earth. Due to time and geography, it is entirely plausible that Cain did not even know (as a child or teen) his wife and met her well into adulthood.

2005 Pole Peddle Paddle

One of the races that I enjoy every year is the Pole Peddle Paddle held in Bend, Oregon. It starts at the top of Mt. Bachelor and finishes in the city of Bend. Consisting of six separate events, it starts with a downhill ski, then transitions to a cross country ski, cycling leg, running leg, kayaking leg and then finally a 200 yard dash to the finish line. The team consists of a core trio of myself on the bike leg, Gordon doing the cross country and kayak, and Sam on the 8K run (we rotate people in for the downhill and 200 yard dash).

I changed my training this year, realizing finally that I'm not Lance Armstrong, and focused on pedaling on a higher gear at a slower RPM, utilizing leg strength more than aerobic capacity. This worked very well for the bodytype I am, and I shaved about 3 full minutes off of last year's time pretty much at the same bodyweight just be changing my training. I had a mid-life crisis 4 years ago and bought my dream bike - a Trek Hilo 2000. It is awesome for short races and triathlons I do, but not a real comfortable bike. The bike leg from Bachelor to Bend is about 22 miles, with one short, hard uphill, approximately 7 miles of rollers/flat, and then the remainder various degress of downhill - including a section where I've gotten up to 54 MPH! That, dear reader; is a rush. Here's a pic of my bike:

In 1999 we actually got third (I think in our category (business/service teams), but as the race became more competitive and we have gotten older, we lost some focus and have been finishing out of the top ten. It's been interesting to look at our previous results, check out how close the times have been 2002-2004:

2002: 2:30:14

2003: 2:30:45

2004: 2:30:28

2005: 2:24:15

Yup, 2002-2004 we were literally within seconds of the same time. This year, about 5.5 minutes faster! We would have broken the top ten this year but there was a blown exchange and that approximately 45 seconds was just enough to bump us to 13th in our division. Oh well, there's always next year!

Don't Mess with Texas

So I've made a few business trips to Texas lately. San Antonio, home of the Alamo. On a return flight to Portland one day, there was a guy standing next to me in the boarding line dressed in camo, sporting a hat with some kind of hunting insignia. I said the only logical thing - so, you're a hunter, eh? He looked at me and smiled and said (I am not making this up):

"ah kilt everthin ah kin legally kill in Texas and now ah'm goint to orygun"

Wow. I wonder if I had just met John Lockwood?

Nuclear Church Accounting Systems Terrorism

Disclaimer: The events you are about to read are not real. Resemblances to living persons, except where otherwise noted, are fictitious. Under Federal Regulation AMB-324d of the Code of Justice, the author cannot be held liable for any actions or mental health issues as a result of reading this post.

Perhaps it was the pizza, possibly the peanuts, maybe the mocha - but for whatever reasons I had a dream. My mind seems to operate like a food processor at night - taking whatever tangled thoughts were resident during the day and building a tableau of tantalizing scenarios, where reason collides with fantasy - welcome to the Dave Zone.

So our church is in a building program. It's a great thing, we believe in the vision, and are giving sacrificially not out of compulsion but out of a great desire to partner in bringing the good news to the hearts of many. That is reality, now the dream.

"Wow, I say to Dave H. (our project manager), this is some control room". Banks of multi colored displays with switches and meters, network monitoring devices, cables laid straight and true in their racks, a mini-server farm - we're talking geek paradise. "Yeah", chimes in Steve F. (our operations manager), "this baby rocks". I looked down at the floor and saw the most curious thing - what looked to be like a gutter from a bowling alley traced a path around the room, banking at the corners, and exiting through what looked like a doggie door cut in the wall providing an egress to the outside. Curious now, I opened the facility door and peered out into the waning twilight. Sure enough, the gutter went through the doggie door and then banked into a literal hole in the ground.

Utterly baffled, I turned to Dave and said "what is this? I have no idea what it could be". Dave replied that due to the increased electrical requirements for the bigger building and sound board it became apparent that it would be cheaper in the long run to build a nuclear powered generator than it would be to pay the city of West Linn for electricity. It turns out that OSHA regulations specify that any public area where a significant amount of people gather must have commensurate safety features. I was closer to the truth than I realized, it was indeed a standard bowling alley gutter. It turns out that our nuclear core, in case of an imminent meltdown; will pop out of the reactor in it's bowling ball form, be deposited in the gutter where it will rapidly egress the building through the doggie door and into a 50 foot hole in the ground where it's unleashed energy can dissipate safely.

A little bit later, I happened to notice an unfamiliar face in the Control Room. This young lady was sifting through our files that were being used to update our church accounting software database. I challenged her and said, who are you and what are you doing here? She said let me show you my ID - and somehow managed to produce a switchblade knife from a $20.00 bill she pulled from her purse. At just that time Steve came into the room and subdued her. And then I woke up.

Seeker Sensitive and VBS - the connection nobody wants you to know

We're all familiar with the seeker sensitive movement popularized by Bill Hybels. In a quote attributed to John MacArthur the definition is:

"... the push within churches across the country to make worship services more "relevant" and therefore more attractive to the world. It's the driving force behind the marketing ploys and high-tech entertainment gimmicks churches use to promote growth".

Mark Mittelberg provides a more positive explanation:

"These churches are central players in the so-called seeker-church movement. The concept of seeker-sensitivity, properly understood, is not new and not controversial — because it’s biblical. In fact, the apostle Paul said, "Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity" (Col. 4:5). He also said, "I have become all things to all people . . . for the sake of the gospel" (1 Cor. 9:22-23)".

It's not my purpose in this entry to engage the vitriolic sides of the debate pro and con for the seeker sensitive model (although we'll have fun at the expense of both sides in future entries!) but to reveal the roots of seeker sensitive thinking.

So I'm at work the other day and in the late afternoon my energy was waning. This kind of dilemma called for only one solution - carbohydrates, and the more inline with pure sugar the better. If I could just ride the rush through the remainder of the afternoon, and avoid the crash as I'm making my way home through rush hour traffice (yes, a pun wherein I refer to the recession of sugar induced energy followed by the potential for drowsy driving) victory would be mine. Scanning the contents of the Pandora's Box we call a vending machine, I saw a treat laden with potential - M&M's Bite Size Cookies.

One bite was all it took - the taste brought long buried memories to again see the light of consciousness. I was transported into my past, where I was being served treats at that bastion of Baptist subterfuge, that intersection of spirituality and childhood - Vacation Bible School.

Yes, the taste of those shortbread cookies brought it all back. In that moment revelation came - this was seeker sensitive. Make no mistake, the music - catchy to kids, annoying to adults (deep and wide, deep and wide there's a fountain flowing deep and wide...aaugh!), the treats - cookies and punch to break down our resolve and allow indoctrination to occur, and the predecessor to Powerpoint - oh yesss, I'm talking about the flannelgraph. I loved to see those great Bible stories reenacted with little cutout cartoon characters placed carefully on the flannelgraph:

Dear reader, can you see the incontrovertible evidence binding the roots of seeker sensitive ministry deeper and further than we ever imagined? Let us postpone the pro/con argument for now and return to the carefree days of watching our VBS teachers cultivate our theology with a piece of felt and some paper cutouts. As we close this post let's consider a few other Biblical candidates for flannelgraph presentations:

• Jesus throwing the moneychangers out of the temple
• Simeon and Levi wreaking their sharp (pun intended) revenge against Hamar and Shechem
• Jehu stomping on Jezebel's corpse after it is thrown from the tower

Well, maybe we should just stick with Jesus, clouds and bunnies!

Road Rage - now it's personal

A new marketing angle for car dealers - breakups lead to crackups! See why here.