What happens when you tell teenage girls you’re going to have a baby? Squealing. Lots and lots of squealing.
One girl even heard the squealing, ran over and exclaimed, “That’s the sound that someone’s going to have a baby!”
What happens when you tell teenage guys you’re going to have a baby? Grunts, nods, blank stares. If you’re lucky they might muster a congratulations, but for most of them it doesn’t register. What does register? “You should name the baby Jimi.”
Haven’t heard that one before.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. When I was a teenager my youth pastor announced to the youth group that his wife was pregnant by saying they’d be needing babysitting help in about nine months. Every girl in the room started squealing. I turned to the guy next to me with a puzzled look. I didn’t get it.
Apparently I’m not the only one who thinks it’s hot. My solution is to work summer hours. Get up as early as possible (6:00 a.m. this morning) and work until about 11:00 a.m. when it starts getting hot. Then go do something else. Today that involved bike riding, which sounds stupid since it’s hot outside, but once you get outside and start sweating, hot is hot.
Then around 6:00 p.m. you can start working again. Though it helps to shower first. The evening’s probably the worst since the house has been roasting all day and it doesn’t cool down until well after dark, but what are you going to do?
My other solution is to try working downstairs where it’s cooler and we have ceiling fans, or hole myself up in the bedroom with our window air conditioner. I’ve contemplated working in the basement, too.
I also work in nothing but my shorts (No iSight chats for me!) and have lots of Flavor Ice. Thankfully Minnesota only has a handful of 90+ days (I heard an average of 15 somewhere the other day). I can handle -9 no problem, it’s the heat that melts my brain.
I’m still not used to the idea of having a baby. Even though we’ve started telling every random stranger we can, it still seems barely real. Even though our parents bought some early, gender-neutral baby clothes, it still doesn’t seem real.
I keep trying to imagine our house with a kid in it, and it just doesn’t happen. Usually I just start thinking about how small our house is and how toys everywhere won’t help. I think about what kind of furniture we’ll need and whether or not we can afford any of this.
Continue reading I’m Going to Be a Dad
Sarah Vowell, the voice for Violet from The Incredibles and author of Assassination Vacation, wrote a piece for the New York Times about Pat Robertson’s involvement with the One campaign.
She initially pokes fun at what a weirdo Robertson is, though I find it humorous that one of the things she chides him for is a direct quote from the Bible–can’t really blame Robertson for that one. But she’s so impressed with Robertson’s involvement in the One campaign she’s willing to shake his hand.
That fact, that every three seconds an African human being dies from hunger or AIDS or, honestly, mosquito bites in this day and age, is literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Way, way, way dumber than that thing about Orlando and a meteor from God. That every-three-seconds statistic is so moronic, and having the richest countries in the world do something about it is such a total no-brainer, that Pat Robertson will join up with Dennis-bloody-Hopper of “Blue”-bloody-“Velvet” to spread the word.
I don’t know what will happen in Scotland today. But I do know that tonight, if I have the handshake dream – Pat Robertson, put ‘er there.
Nothing like Christians actually doing something smart. The world notices.
With the London terror attacks today every reporter seems to be talking about the vulnerabilities to terrorists across the world. Our public transportation isn’t safe, our ports aren’t safe, our power plants aren’t safe, and on and on they go. I’m not sure I get it. Can we ever really be safe? Can you ever secure something like the New York Subway system? One reporter today noted that there are some 2000 airport security checkpoints across the U.S. There are at least that many entrances to the New York Subway system alone.
We simply cannot have the same level of security on public transportation as we do on airplanes. It’s just not that hard to slip a bomb onto a trane or a bus, especially if you plan on blowing yourself up with that bomb. I’m not sure I get the surprise at that fact.
The best we can hope for is to be vigilant.
Here’s a fun little waste of time: Guess-the-Google. They give you 20 images and 20 seconds to guess what keyword would bring up those images in Google. Some are easier than others. I scored a 205 in my first attempt, which isn’t so hot. (link via Living Room)
A survey of 8 to 14-year-olds in the U.K. found that Jesus most represents what it means to be a superhero, followed closely by Florence Nightingale and David Beckham. Kids are also more interested in fighting poverty and environmental issues than earning extra money or having their sports team win.
Those crazy kids, what can you do?
Now there’s a peculiar pairing: the indie media site Salon.com reporting on Billy Graham’s New York Crusade. It’s a great little observation piece, giving a man-on-the-street view of a Billy Graham crusade (though it’s more the left side of the street).
The first page deals with the event itself (why on earth do all the Crusade performers pander to the Christians: “How many came to worship?” asks Mercy Me’s Bart Millard. Hopefully not many Bart, otherwise Billy’s preaching to the choir), but the second page gets into the three-ring circus of weirdos who show up to protest Billy Graham for whatever crazy reason.
It’s fun to see it all from an outside perspective (and not the sanitized we-love-Billy perspective most outlets have been reporting).
Newsweek has an interesting Q&A with Franklin Graham, published last December but pushed last week with all the news of Billy Graham’s last crusade. Maybe I’m just sick, but I have a morbid fascination with hearing the latest Franklin has to say (though this isn’t really the latest).
I think it’s funny how Franklin comes up with the same stories and tells them all the time. When asked about AIDS, he gives his “God’s parameters” speech, which always starts with, “I’m a pilot.” Bono does the exact same thing, as I suppose there’s something to it. Come up with something smart and quotable, and you’ll be quoted. It’s just funny when you hear the same quote over and over and over again.
The last question gets into those loose cannon judges, and the reporter asks if the judges who decided Brown vs. Board of Education were activist judges. Franklin sidesteps the question, claiming not to be familiar with the case (I’ll assume he means not familiar with the specifics, as opposed to not knowing of the case). It’s an intersting question for everyone railing on about activist judges. Is there precedent for what they’re talking about? I’ll have to side with Franklin on this one and plead ignorance, though I wish someone with more legal and political insight would write that article.
With fear and trembling I expected the day when fatherhood would be a short nine months away. Who knew it would come with a ‘wahoo’ some weeks ago? Of course fear and trembling came shortly afterward, but there’s plenty of joy and excitement as well. We finally broke the silence yesterday when we told my parents and now I feel like we’re telling random strangers on the street, which I suppose I am with this.
We’re about 11 weeks along now, which makes January 22, 2006 the big day. A baby. Parenthood. Wow.
Continue reading Just Call Me Dad