That nutty professor

I think the most comments I've ever had from a post was this one about my professor, Dr. Blomberg. So, for Pam who said she wanted me to keep you updated, I'm writing about him again. Before I get started, though, let me just say that for anyone looking for the most comprehensive yet easy-to-read introduction to the Gospels I've ever seen (and I work in a seminary bookstore for a living), read his Jesus and the Gospels.

Dr. Blomberg is hilarious. I've always known that, but it becomes clearer when you spend three hours with him each Thursday. He makes some of the cheesiest jokes, but they're fantastic... and he knows they're cheesy too.

He's also (as they might say in Boston) wicked smart. (I had a long story all ready to go here to demonstrate how smart he is, but I'll just summarize and say that he knows scripture like the back of his hand, and can catch people who cite it with even very subtle changes that change a text's meaning.) He also knows the answer to just about any Bible question you could ask. Today he said, "I don't know" about something, and I audibly gasped. Then he went on to give an explanation that demonstrated that he actually did know, he just apparently didn't know well enough for his own standards. The question was about Matthew 27 where some random saints and people are resurrected at Jesus' death and walk around and reveal themselves to some people (it's kind of an odd passage).

Anyway, I like him. He's funny and engaging in class, and he's an all-around good guy who not only knows more than everyone else, but also seems to walk the walk more than many too.

Pizza and donuts -- heavenly

Yesterday Elizabeth and I helped a friend move. For hours. He moved from the second floor of one apartment complex to the third floor of another one about 40 minutes away. So, we spent all of Sunday afternoon carrying heavy things up and down stairs. Today we've felt aches and pains all day long because of it.

But, we were well compensated. We got to eat pizza and donuts and drink gatorade and soda. That's my kind of food.

On another note, I read a note a friend posted on facebook recently that was called "You know you're from Iowa if..." The only one that really made me laugh was, "You can name all five seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, road construction, and DAMN HOT! I'd say that's pretty accurate. It's entirely possible that one day I'll be living in Iowa again, and if that's true, I'm well aware that my mild Denver winters are going to be sorely missed. I haven't worn anything heavier than a spring jacket in over a month. Weathermen call it "bone-chilling" when the temperature is 35 or below. Our average highs are in the 40s, and it must have been 65 today. I know that this is nothing to brag about to my California-based readers, but for a 4-season kind of place at the foot of the Rockies, I've just come to realize that the climate here is much milder than most people think.

The Dentist

My whole life I've hated going to the dentist. I don't have particularly bad teeth, but every time I've ever been to the dentist it's absolute torture. The sounds of drills and metal rubbing against metal, of metal rubbing against teeth, the nasty smells of fluoride and sterility, and the dentists and their assistants who ask questions the whole time they're digging around in your mouth as if they truly want to make conversation, but who never take their hands out of your mouth so that you can actually answer them have always made me hypothesize that if hell were personalized for each person who ended up there, mine would surely be an eternal dentist's chair (good thing I'm not going to hell).

Then, when I was in high school I visited a new dentist, Dr. Mareno (I think that was her name). She was extremely pleasant. Her dentist's chair had a television on the ceiling that faced straight down so you could watch while they worked. They'd give you headphones, and place the tv's remote control in your hand so that you could choose your own distraction. I watched Seinfeld. The people who worked on you were also all very pleasant. They understood that it's impossible for me to answer questions verbally while my mouth is pried open wide, so after each question they asked, they'd pull their hands out and let you answer. They'd tell their own stories too (which makes much more sense than asking questions the whole time... it is possible to listen to stories with your mouth open).

But the best part about Dr. Mareno's office was the laughing gas. No kidding. They'd rest a little hose-like thing on my nose and pump nitrous oxide through it, and before long I was in a world of my own. I don't remember much about being under its influence. I remember that it felt like I watched 5 or 6 episodes of Seinfeld, but it was probably only one. I remember being completely oblivious to the pain that the dentist was inflicting on my mouth. And I remember feeling great. In fact, I remember the dentist asking me once, "Does this hurt too much?" and while I'm sure my actual answer was, "No," in my head I remember thinking, "I honestly don't care. I feel great." [I still can't say that this experience made me enjoy the dentist, but if you've got to go, Dr. Mareno was the closest thing to a good idea I've ever been part of.]

That story came to my mind when I watched this hilarious video of a little kid who is apparently "under the influence" of some very entertaining narcotic. Enjoy.

Jealous

My brother and sister-in-law are in California. I'm jealous of everyone involved. I'm jealous of mom and dad because they get to see Joel and Pam and Gabriel. I'm jealous of Joel and Pam and Gabriel because they get to see mom and dad and the foster boys, and presumably more of mom's side of the family too. And I'm jealous of all of them because they get to hang out at the beach.

Pam, my only consolation is the pictures and videos you post. You should feel free to include pictures and videos of you adults too, if you'd like. :)

my wife the goofball

*Disclaimer: This post is not as awkward or uncomfortable as the first few words might make you think.

Last night when Elizabeth and I were laying in bed, just getting ready to fall asleep, I tried to start a game of "footsie" with her (which I know she doesn't like).

Elizabeth: I'm gonna punch you. (15 seconds of silence... I think she's probably asleep, and then...) In case you die during the night, I don't want the last words I ever said to you to be "I'm gonna punch you," so... I love you!

Learn something new...

The Chicago Bears, Cleveland Browns, Detroit Lions, Green Bay Packers, New York Giants, New York Jets, and Pittsburgh Steelers are all NFL teams that do NOT have official cheerleaders. I did not know that before today.

Cokesbury and Santos on abortion

There's a Christian bookstore near our home called Cokesbury. Once when we were driving past Elizabeth said, "Every time we pass that store I want cake." I was confused. I asked, "Cake?" She said, "Yeah, that store is called 'Cakesbury.'" I pointed out, "Actually, it's called 'Cokesbury.'" She said, "Oh... Every time we pass that store I want coke."

I laughed. hard.

P.S. Matt Santos' position on abortion is silly (Matt Santos is a character on The West Wing who runs for president as the democratic party's nominee). I used to think it wasn't so bad. Even though he's pro-choice, he says that abortion should be "...a whole lot rarer than it is now." I respected that. I didn't like the pro-choice stance, but was glad that he truly sounded like he'd like to reduce the number of them in the country. Last night when we watched that episode (and I don't know why it's taken me so long to realize this), it hit me that his position is pretty darn stupid. He believes that life begins at conception. He asserts that abortion is "a tragedy." Yet his political stance is that it should be safe and legal. If you think life begins at conception and that abortion is a tragedy, then you concede that it's basically the murder of a person who can't defend itself. Why IN THE WORLD could you believe that it should be legal? (For the record: Yes, I understand that the show is fictional, and that Matt Santos doesn't really exist. Still, I've heard Democrats who hold this same position, or positions very much like it. Plus, I like The West Wing and I get passionate about abortion, so I thought I'd share.)

Inventory and why retail probably isn't for me in the long run

Yesterday we were doing inventory at the bookstore where I work. We've had signs on the door since Monday indicating that we would close early on Thursday evening, and not open until 1 pm on Friday afternoon.

Someone on the facilities team at the seminary dropped the ball on their end, and the doors (which automatically lock and unlock, and cannot be controlled from the store itself) unlocked as usual at 8:30 yesterday morning, even though we were closed. I told my manager that we would have to do something to keep people from coming in. He thought that the original signs on both entrances (indicating that we were closed until 1) would be enough to keep people out.

By 9 am, he realized that he was wrong, and people obviously do NOT read signs at all, because we had probably a dozen people in that first half hour come into the store, and we had to explain to them that we were, in fact, closed for inventory. So a co-worker printed up new signs with big bold lettering that said, "PLEASE DO NOT ENTER. THE BOOKSTORE IS CLOSED FOR INVENTORY AND WILL REOPEN AT 1 PM." Surely, if placed at eye-level where the double-doors come together, people will notice this and stay out of the store. Within 10 seconds of the sign being posted (indeed, before my co-worker could even make his way around to the other entrance in order to not disturb the sign), a middle-aged woman came barging through the door.

Finally, we realized that a physical barrier was going to have to be put in place in order to keep people from entering the store. We have some stansions in the store (you know, those things like at the bank or the airport that direct where the line is supposed to go; the canvas strips that run between posts), so we ran a barrier in front of the front door. That was finally the thing that worked... sort of. There were still students that would get all the way to the door, try to open it, realize that in order to open the door they'd have to knock down our barrier, and THEN pause to read the TWO posted signs about why they couldn't get in.

One interesting thing to me was the reactions we got from people. When told we were closed, some students retorted, "Well, I'm just cutting through to get to the student center." "Oh!" I thought about saying, "Well, then in your case, we're not closed. We're open for people who are just cutting through, but if you're interested in buying anything, THEN we're closed." Other students would say, "Oh, well I just wanted to see if you have this certain book," or, "Oh, well I really need to buy this book this morning." In my mind (but not out loud) I thought, "Perhaps someone should explain to you what 'closed' means. When you go to a store that's 'closed,' you're not allowed to just look around. You're also not allowed to buy an item just by claiming that you really need it. 'Closed' means 'closed.' Not open to the public. Do you understand? Do I need to draw you a diagram? YOU'RE A GRADUATE STUDENT."

I think my favorite response was from the woman who barged in right after the really obvious sign was put up (and in case it wasn't properly explained, she basically had to rip the sign in two in order to get the front door open). A co-worker politely explained, "I'm sorry, we're actually closed right now for inventory, as the sign on the door says." The woman laughed and said, "Oh! I wondered what that sign was there for!" "Really?" I thought. "Did you really wonder? Apparently you wondered so much that you completely IGNORED that sign. There are about 15 words on it. It's a bright, clear, sunny day. I can see no visibility problems here. Apparently you DIDN'T wonder what the sign was there for, because it would have taken you about 1.5 seconds to read it. Then you wouldn't have practically ripped it off."

My wife and I talked at length about this phenomenon last night. What is it that keeps us from paying attention? Is it our culture? Are Americans too distracted, antsy, and self-centered to be aware of what's around them? There's a book called The Dumbest Generation. I don't remember who the author is, but I guess its premise is basically that since we are so reliant on technology today, we're dumber because we don't have to retain knowledge at all. We wondered that if the "DO NOT ENTER" sign had been on a large-screen television outside the store, would people have been more likely to notice it? No matter what the reasons behind ignoring the signs in the first place, I think I was most thrown by the huge collection of ridiculous responses we got when we told people we were closed. Baffling. Your thoughts?