Who's Coming to Dinner?

Over on YMX forums, the question was raised: if you could invite any five people for dinner, living or dead (with the exception of Bible characters, because it's too easy to choose them), who would you invite?

I chose the following:

1. Uncle Eddie: He was always really funny and made me laugh a lot. He was tragically killed by a drunk driver way too young, but he was a great guy. I think he'd have made everyone laugh. And he'd probably show up on a Harley. If he comes for dinner, I'll definitely serve cherry tomatoes because he grew them in his garden. I remember they were all red and ripe and everyone was going on about how sweet they were. Now, I heard that they were sweet, and I heard that they were cherry tomatoes, so I just had to try one. Ick. It tasted like a tomato. But Uncle Eddie let me throw it in the street, so then I was happy again!
2. Pele: Only the greatest soccer player of all time.
   
   I remember doing a biography report on him in fourth grade after reading "My Life and the Beautiful Game" and I knew that was who I wanted to be like. As an aside, my brother and I still quote from the book when we call one another (or any athlete who's had a bad play "you bum! You woodenleg!" -- of course, young Pele's response to that was to grab a brick to bolster his courage and say "Who are you calling bum? Who are you calling woodenleg? A bum is what your mother is!").
3. While I'm at it, I'd invite my brother. He lives across the pond, so I don't get to see him much. (Of course, if he's coming over for dinner, I imagine that a whole family dinner won't be too far off. Just as long as the sister doesn't bring that nasty liquid thanksgiving dinner again, we'll all be happy!!)
4. Michael Pritzl: What dinner would be complete without an underrated rock star? Not only does he write thoughtful and creative lyrics, but he's a really humble, down-to-earth guy. Plus I could maybe convince him to jam after dinner.
5. Philip Yancey: He is a great author who is not afraid to ask hard questions of the faith. I would love to sit down and have a conversation with him. Unfortunately, I think, in this kind of gathering, he'd probably mostly be doing a lot of listening...

So that's my list. The menu for the evening (with special thanks to Derek) will be steak kebabs with a special peanut sauce (in honor of Pele's trouble following an attempted fundraising incident that involved procuring peanuts from an unguarded boxcar) with a special vegetarian option for those who don't eat meat.

Bessebowl Has Been Veddy Veddy Good to Me

Of course, anyone in my family would recognize that quote as coming from the cousin formerly known as ~ (that's the sound of a french fry going through mashed potatoes), as ~ successfully reduced all adults to laughter at his hilarious imitation of what he had seen on TV.

Anyway, that aside, I'm not a baseball fan. I never played the game (not even T-ball), and I was never all that good in softball (especially on strategy). I don't care for a pitcher's duel; I'd rather have a home-run derby.

That said, last night found me with friends at Dime a Dog Night with the Columbus Clippers. Yes, Dime a Dog Night is when thousands of normally rational, sane, adults decide to spend what they normally would spend on ballpark food all on $.10 hot dogs (with a limit of 5 per person per trip to the concession stand). It's a riot.

Though the weather was extremely hot all day, it was actually pleasant at the ballpark; the seats seemed to all be in the shade, and sometime during the game, the sun set. I didn't notice when that actually happened due to the exciting nature of the baseball game. It was 4-3, Clippers, going into the 9th inning, when the Bison(s) scored 3. So we figured, it's already been over 3 hours, so the Clippers lose, big deal. Except they scored 2 to tie. So we go into extra innings. We meaning the fans and the Bison(s). They scored 6 runs as the Clippers trotted out "the fans from the stands" as relief pitchers. The Clippers made it look respectable by scoring 3 of their own in the bottom of the 10th, making the final score 12-9.

But that's not all! There were fireworks to be watched! Which is why there were still tons of young children, school aged and younger, who were still at the ballpark at this time of the evening... after 11:30 pm. On a school night. The brilliant parents behind us were wondering why their kids were acting up. Because they're tired!! Duh!

By the way, in case you were wondering, I sold my car and used all of the proceeds to purchase hot dogs. You can't find a better bargain than $.10 hot dogs! Never mind that I don't really care for hot dogs, and never mind that the famous "Wally" wasn't the one selling them. They were only $.10 each!

Out Running
(Derek, you don't have to read this one)

Do you have one of those "before I die, I've got to..." lists? I don't formally have one, but then again, I guess I do. I used to only have a couple of items on it, including that I wanted to play guitar (check) and I wanted to backpack the Grand Canyon (check). There is only one other thing that I really have on there.

Well, I've decided that it's time to run a marathon. Yes, that's on my list. I've been a runner since I can remember -- I remember as a kid: we'd drive past Maple Crest Middle School and I'd see the running track, the old cinder kind, and I'd want to run on it. I got my wish in 6th grade when I joined the cross country and track teams, and I trained on it for two years, leading up to my Kokomo city record 1600 meter run (5:13 flat).

In high school, some coaches helped diminish my love of running - well, that and divided loyalties, as soccer and cross country shared a season, and you know I'll play soccer 10 times out of 10 rather than just run. I still continued to run some, but it wasn't until Kentucky when I got back into racing. It was my bass-section friends Stan and Sonny who got me excited to run again, and we would race the area 5Ks.

I've been running 5K races since then, usually a couple a year, but I've always wanted to run a marathon. I'm not getting any younger, so this is going to be the year.

Part of marathon training includes running some insane long mileage days. Like 8 to 12 miles. Today was one of those days. I got up bright and early (7:30) and got my stuff together and went out running. My plan was to beat the heat. Yeah, right. Though I didn't check, I'm sure it was already pushing 80. I headed south on 29 to 274 (4 miles) and went west for a mile before turning back north on East Shelby. Then I headed north to NB-NK road, where I headed back home.

The highlight of the run was at about 6.5 miles, there was a lady outside a farmhouse watering the flowers. I asked if I could trouble her for a drink of water. I'm not picky, a swig from the hose would satisfy me. But she went inside and came back with an icy mug, straight from the freezer, full of ice-cold water. It was the best drink I've ever tasted. Second to that would be the water from the pump at Dwain & Brenda's house... (short memory and all; I think the water from Ribbon Falls might have been just as good).

And a good day was had by all.

The Passage of Time

It goes on and on. This weekend has been a reminder of that. It's graduation weekend. That means one thing: graduation parties. I don't remember much about my graduation party. I remember that I had it at the church and that some of my extended family made the trip. I also remember that the youth minister showed up (I think kind of by default, since I had the party at the church; I don't think he would have come had it been elsewhere) and he "gave" me a "gift" -- one of the church's butter knives. Nice, huh?

I didn't think of it as much of a celebration - I was still in a short-sighted selfish mode and I didn't understand that this party wasn't just for me, that it was for my friends and family, especially including my parents. I, of course, had a girlfriend and I wanted to hang out with her...

Having gone to grad parties every year for five years now, most of them are pretty much the same. There is a table (or a board) with pictures from the last 18 years: sports pictures, family pictures, school pictures. There are also various honors and medals displayed there, and maybe a video or a scrapbook. There's a lot of food, (always too much food, and usually the same stuff), and a couple of groups milling around. There are the teenagers and there are the adults. The grad usually does a good job of talking to the adults, but mostly the adults talk to adults and kids to kids. It's a passage from one state to another, but it doesn't seem like it. It's hard to believe that (as a grad) you're never going back to high school. It's hard to believe (as a parent) that your baby has grown up.

And time keeps on going and going and going and going...

Out in Nature

I don't like sitting at a desk. I don't like artificial lighting. I don't like windowless rooms. When I'm inside, my prayer times often seem hollow, rushed, and contrived, whereas when I'm out in the woods, my prayers seem natural and unforced.

Why is that?

This past Sunday I was preaching from Psalm 98 and I began to understand. This Psalm starts out with the command: Sing a new song to the Lord, for He has done wonderful deeds. Verses 7-8 go on to say this:

Let the sea and everything in it shout his praise!

Let the earth and all living things join in.

Let the rivers clap their hands in glee!

Let the hills sing out their songs of joy

I think they have already begun to sing, and I think when you stop and listen, you can hear it.



The mountains themselves shout, "Look at what the Creator has done!" On Palm Sunday, when the religious leaders were rebuking Jesus' followers for making too much noise praising Him, Jesus told them, "If they don't do it, the very rocks will shout out praise." The unfortunate thing seems to be that the rocks themselves are faithfully shouting out His praise in our place.

And when I get out in nature, I can hear it, see it, experience it.

The other part is that I slow down. We weren't made to experience God while we're going 10,000 miles per hour in specialized vehicles of our own creation. We were meant to walk alongside Him, surrounded by His creation, stuff that we can't even claim to have made, reminders that there's something (Someone) out there bigger than we are.



It's not supposed to be a reminder of how small we are, but rather a reminder of how BIG our God is. And to realize that we are loved and cherished by a God that big...

Grand Canyon 5

Unlike the last couple of days, when we really took our time getting up and going, we were up early and ready to go before most of our neighbors. The worst thing happened this morning, however. The previous day our neighbor warned us not to eat freeze dried eggs. We should have heeded his warning. That was our breakfast this morning, and not only did they stick horribly to the pan, but they tasted awful. If that was it, we'd have been OK, but they stuck with us all day. :-(

In spite of feeling rather sick, we hiked up the trail. It was a pretty rough trail, especially since shortly out of camp we hit the switchbacks... and they continued for the rest of the trail.



The green area to the upper left of the picture is the Indian Garden campground/rest stop, and you can see some of the trail we took to get from there. It's hard to believe from this vantage point that the little green spot you see really consists of 100 year old cottonwood trees.



The trail became pretty crowded; we both prefer a more secluded hike, so this was a little too populated for our tastes. The Bright Angel Trail, after all, leads right up to (down from) the main Grand Canyon village; any Joe Schmoe can find it and hike down some distance. What makes it more accessible is its frequent water stops; there's one at the 1.5 mile mark, another at the 3 mile mark, and again, at Indian Garden (4.5 mile mark). So it's not hard to imagine the crowds. There were also quite a few who I guess had never heard the rule: the uphill hiker has the right of way. I did mention it to a group of young guys who were charging down at a ferocious pace with little regard to who might be in their way. I did have to laugh at a couple we saw. She was certainly (un)dressed for something else. She was wearing a little crop top (maybe a sports bra) and a pair of "cut-off" "sweat" pants (if you can call the ones that were purchased in cut-off style actual "cut-offs" or if you can call a pair that have never seen sweat "sweatpants"). She was carrying some water and that was it, as far as my memory serves. Following her ten yards back was her "pack mule". He was wearing the extremely full backpack, complete with two full-size sleeping bags and a full-size pillow strapped to the back of the back. At least she wasn't wearing high heels.



A ranger had told us that there were two tunnels on this trail. The above apparently counts as one. The other looked the same. I was a little disappointed; I wanted to walk through a dark tunnel that might require my headlamp. Eh. This was so close to the top that people were already telling us, "You made it!"

At the top, we wandered around a little bit through some shops. What captured my imagination (again) was the sign at the top with text from Psalm 104:

O Lord,
How manifold
are thy works!
In wisdom hast
thou made them all:
the earth is full
of thy riches.

The sign also contains a prayer:

Father Almighty, wonderful Lord,
Wondrous Creator, be ever adored;
Wonders of nature
Sing praises to You,
Wonder of wonders --
I may praise, too!

This pretty much sums it up. I can't see amazing things like the Grand Canyon without praising the LORD who made it all. In fact, I have to admit that when we were out of the canyon and I was looking over it, I teared up a little. It was sad to have left the beauty of the canyon and to know that we'd soon be back in the flatlands.

What wasn't sad, however, was eating a lunch that we didn't have to prepare ourselves (we were out of the canyon before noon)! Though I was a little self-conscious sitting in the Bright Angel Lodge restaurant, stinking of five days in the canyon without a shower (and with only one change of clothes).

After lunch, we left the canyon, found cell phone reception and called Big Mama (and got to talk to the Boy, who was extremely happy to hear Mommy and Daddy on the phone) to tell her we were safe and sound. Then we drove to Sedona and walked around for a little while before we went to our plush, lavish accommodations to clean up.

We had dinner at the Cowboy Club in Sedona (dressy casual is requested for this special dining experience - at least we had clean clothes on). It was great. Especially since we got out of there for only $30 when one steak dinner at Phantom Ranch would have cost $32, had we been able to get reservations there.

And it was evening, and it was morning, the fifth day.

Grand Canyon 4

After a fantastic day with trips to Ribbon Falls and with a great sunset at Plateau Point (I told you that I always get its name wrong!), we decided that we would go on another day hike. This time we decided to travel out Tonto Trail West.



This is the best moment of the whole trail. Do you see the scrubby desert brush everywhere? That's all there was along this trail. Now don't get me wrong; the scenery was still Grand Canyon beautiful. But the thing about that was this: we could see that same scenery from Indian Garden or from Plateau Point. We didn't have to trek across the desert in the hot sun to see it. So after some travel time (an hour? we didn't wear watches on this trip), we turned back.

After that, we played in the creek. I spent my time moving stones to change the water's path, variously damming the creek and letting the water go. I took special care at crossing points to make the crossings easier for someone with knee problems.

We also played various card games at our camp. I found that poker and blackjack lose their fun when there are no stakes to be won or lost (the point of the game is lost, too). I suppose we could have wagered our food. Yeah, that would have gone well. I can see it, Tara ends up hiking out with all the food and I'm a gaunt, emaciated shell of a human (but at least I'd have the lighter pack). We settled on Go Fish (would have been better with my special fish-shaped cards), Old Maid (what a horrible game), and Memory (thankfully a big gust of wind came through and blew our cards away, giving us a great opportunity to quit the game). I suppose the winner was Rummy. We actually had fun playing Rummy.

In the evening we set off for Plateau Point again. This time the condors didn't make an appearance. In fact, there were few who did. There was a group of 6 who followed us out the trail, but they only stayed for a few minutes before they returned to camp (and this was over an hour before sunset). There was a couple from Switzerland who came out (they camped next to us, mostly because I was wearing my Bayern Munich jersey and they figured I was German; at least I didn't disappoint as I can still speak German). They didn't stay for the sunset either.



There was one other group (the only others who stayed for the sunset) - they cracked us up. They were a group that had hired a guide to take them on what amounted to the same trip we took, except they only spent one night at Bright Angel and one night at Indian Garden. The guide carried a mule's share, set up all the tents, made dinner, cleaned up, and pretty much everything else. They were asking him questions such as, "Can you drive down here?"

It reminded me of the time when we were at the Brookfield Zoo shortly after a 3 year old child fell into the gorilla enclosure -- the ape house was completely inundated with visitors and the wait to get in was over an hour. One annoyed woman muttered, "They need to put that ape in a cage out by the road so everyone gets a chance to see her."

Again, we waited for the sun to set and went back to our campsite.

And it was evening, and it was morning, the fourth day.

Grand Canyon 3

After spending our second night at Bright Angel Campground, we got up "early" to head up the Bright Angel Trail 4.5 miles to Indian Garden. When I say "early" it's important to note that almost everyone was already gone from our campground by the time we hit the road. In fact, as we hit the trail, the first mule train had already made it down the Kaibab. Now, granted, the driver had started at 4:30 am...



This trail was not difficult at all. We were almost completely in shade (though we accomplished that by hiking in the morning), and the switchbacks weren't bad at all. We encountered other folks, but not many. We walked along a creek most of the way, too, which added to the charm of this trail.



We found ourselves at Indian Garden campground before noon. There were several open campsites, including a very shaded site which we pounced on. We were warned that the local squirrels were quite proficient at finding food, so we made sure to take every scrap out of our backpacks (the previous ones who stayed at this site apparently didn't and paid the price).



After we set up, it actually started getting chilly. Chilly (and cloudy!) enough that we put the rainfly on the tent and climbed in and napped. It was wonderful (especially after we'd overworked ourselves the previous two days). When we got up, we were quite refreshed. We decided to pack our dinner-making implements to go out to Peninsula Point for the sunset. For some reason, I can never remember the name of that point; I variously called it Panorama Point or Inspiration Point or Perspiration Point (or even Yaki Point). We made dinner up there and took the obligatory picture (which you can see below).



The view out there is fantastic. Maybe the best in the canyon (like anybody can really tell that). You have a panoramic view of the canyon from the inside, all overlooking the Colorado River. We were not alone out there. There were some 20 people, I think all from Indian Garden campsite, all enjoying the scenery. There were three other visitors as well: A9, 52, and 75. In case you didn't figure out their identities by their names, they were endangered California Condors. Though all literature suggested that we stay far away, nobody could resist getting close-up pictures. The condors, in fact, nearly stole the sunset's thunder. It seems that some of them came for a little romantic sunset viewing as well.



Beautiful creatures, aren't they?

The sun set on a clear evening; no clouds at all. The beauty of it was in watching the surrounding cliffs slip into shadow. We waited out there until it was dark enough that we could see (as our Hungarian friend Jakob put it) the Beacon of Gondor (or maybe instead of the beacon, we were seeing the lights from the Bright Angel Lodge at the rim). It was a great, moonlit night, and we walked back in the moonlight. We did, of course, use our headlights to be safe.

And it was evening, and it was morning, the third day.

Grand Canyon 2

Because it's a rather slow day today (ok, mighty slow; since it's raining and cold outside, I'm not playing soccer, and we can't think of anywhere to go or anything to do), I've decided to update with day 2 of our Grand Canyon trip.

On day 1, we hiked 7 1/2 miles into the canyon. We were pretty much wiped out by the time we got down there. In fact, had we known about the "mules carry your bag in" option, we might have opted for it (hind sight, of course). So we decided that we would be best set to just lay around camp all day. We'd relax in the creek, walk into Phantom Ranch, play some cards, and just take it easy.

Except that we don't have the sense to do that. Especially when there's a waterfall within "reasonable" hiking distance. So instead of relaxing, we headed for Ribbon Falls. Ribbon Falls is an easy hike from Bright Angel Campground. It's only the distance that is a problem: 13 miles round trip. We headed off with water, some snacks, and our filter (so we could have more water). Turns out that the filter was a really good idea; we had to refill our bottles twice. The trail followed the Bright Angel Creek to the north (toward the North Rim).



It went from being a fairly level trail in a tight canyon to being a fairly level trail in a wide canyon. The climate went from creekbank to desert to swamp to desert. Of course, what desert trail would be complete without a snake sighting? As I was stepping over a rock, what should I almost step on but a rattler, out minding his own business, soaking up the sun. Needless to say, my foot did not continue its downward motion. We waited a little bit (the heartbeat had to slow down a little bit) and some other guys came by -- one joker decided to poke the snake, not believing it was a rattler. But in the end, we passed without incident.



We continued along the path until we decided that it was too far. Fortunately for us, we met a hiker who told us that we were only about a mile away. So we plodded on. We finally got to where literature had told us we could either ford the creek or take the bridge. Seeing as how taking the bridge required a stupid hike up a steep hill in full sunlight, we opted for the creek crossing route. Unfortunately the creek was too high for a safe crossing, and fortunately we were smart enough (and not too stubborn) to realize it. In later discussions, it seemed like everyone had made the same determination, including a ranger we met. So we went up and over the hill to the bridge, and we finally made it to the falls.

Ribbon Falls was well worth the wait. If you look closely at the picture, you can see me to the left of the falls (wearing a yellow shirt).


What I didn't realize until I was behind the falls talking to a gentleman back there (whose kids were relaxing in the water) was that the date was perfect.

May 5, 2006.

Perfect? It was perfectly 10 years from the day when I proposed to Tara. And what made it more perfect was that said proposal took place behind a waterfall in the Great Smoky Mountains. Ten years to the day.

It was a beautiful coincidence, and it made my day.

After have a great time in the falls, we hiked back. I didn't realize how much we had been hiking uphill on the way; the way back was a shorter (chronological) hike by far. No matter, we were wiped out by the time we stumbled back into camp.

And it was evening, and it was morning, the second day.

Grand Canyon - 1

If you were wondering why this blog has been silent for a couple of weeks, it is because we were on our Grand Canyon adventure. I will try to summarize the trip into a few posts, but don't expect me to update them too quickly.

We started by taking the boy to Grandma and Grandpa's house (otherwise known as the Chykkyn Rantch). Then we drove to Louisville, where we were to catch our plane. When we got to Phoenix, we got our rental car and headed north.

We left early the next morning for our descent into the Grand Canyon.

Of course it was still chilly out, so we were bundled up. The temperatures ranged from the 20s to the 70s on the south rim -- that translated into the 60s to the 90s at the bottom of the canyon. In case you aren't familiar with the Grand Canyon, the CCC dug it in the early 1950s in search of gold, and when they got to the middle, they found the Colorado River there. They left it unfinished after they lost several of their key men in a rockslide.


It feels like I'm standing on top of the world. Really I'm just standing in front of a 1 mile deep canyon that averages 10 miles wide. And we headed down into it. It was quite the trip down (don't let anyone fool you; the down part is harder than the up. The up takes better cardiovascular powers, but the down takes its toll on your knees, especially since you're generally heading down with food for the whole stay and water for the whole trip down). We went down the South Kaibab Trail, which is competely dry. Meaning we had to carry our own water the whole way down. Our water was quite warm by the time we made it down. It was a hard trail, and we were extremely happy when we finally glimpsed the river.



Of course we didn't realize how far away it still was... (if you check out the picture carefully, you'll see a single guy in black. This guy was insane; he was actually running... all the way to the river and back. That's a 15 mile run, and that doesn't even bring into play the mile difference between the elevation of the top and bottom).



We finally did make it to the Bright Angel Campground, and we loved it. It was a bit warm, but it was great to have running (drinkable) water and flush toilets. We weren't quite expecting that luxury. We rested and relaxed in the Bright Angel Creek (talk about cold water!), had dinner, and were in bed before sunset.

And it was evening and it was morning, the first day.

The Big 2

It's official... we have a two year old in the house. You'll be seeing some pictures of him shortly enjoying his birthday celebration at Grandma and Grandpa's house. I have to give you the picture of him at dinner with his favorite toy, a 'bage truck (garbage truck for the uninformed).

The boy had a great day, including a trip to McDonalds (in which he spilled his mom's full cup of "blue juice" all over the table and grandma). It was raining outside, but he got to "swim" in the "hot" tub (it was 96 degrees: not too hot for a two year old). He got pizza for dinner, and he got cake and ice cream. He didn't quite get the hang of the candles and (much like his father) stuck his finger in the flame. Once. His cake had a fire truck and fire dog on it; he loved the icing and the ice cream best.

Besides the garbage truck, he got a little people fire truck, a dog book, several Baby Einstein "mooshes" (movies), special crayons and paper, and a Hungry Caterpillar coloring book. He also has a special train set waiting for him at home (from At JenJen, Bup, and Mak).

The big 2 was a good one. Let's hear it for the boy!