True story

We here at Euphrony Rambles have been willfully ignoring the internets this week. Aside from posting a guest post from Jason Gray over on Inspired to Action I have not looked at blogs or touched my own. To put it simply I've been freakin' busy at work (translate, at lunch I veg - if I take that much time for lunch) and at night I've been too tired and wanting to do stuff with the fam.

Sad thing is, I've got enough posts for a month rattling in my head. So today I simply give this short disclaimer and a short true story that serves no purpose whatsoever. Enjoy!

When I was a freshman in High School, we took a band trip to Carlsbad, New Mexico. As part of the trip we, naturally, went through Carlsbad Caverns. About half way through the caves, I got a sneezing fit. If you've never heard me sneeze then let me give you a small description. I'm not a small sneezer; no, no mere achoo or stifled snort. I sneeze like a storm coming over the plains - you can see it coming, and you know its big. This was just such a sneeze.

The little group I was with finished walking through the caves, and we were goofing around waiting in the gift shop for the rest of our band group to come through. After about an hour in the shop I overheard someone who was just coming out of the caverns talking to a friend. They said, "Hey, did you hear that sneeze!"

True story. I guess I should be glad no stalagmites came down in the aftermath.

As I indicated above, there is no storal to this mory. But stay tuned - on Monday I plan on having a review of a great new CD that's coming on soon. You won't want to miss it. Or maybe you will. Who knows?

Goodbye, Brad

Today, my friend Brad Wims was called home to be with God. I asked you to pray for him last week, and now I ask that you pray for peace and comfort for his family. He leaves his wife, Jenny, their five-year old son Zeke, and their two-year old daughter, Kaelyn. Here's a pictuer of him from last Friday, napping with his little girl.

Goodbye, Brad. See you on the other side. Or, since I know how much you loved your Aggies - see you at the 12^th Gate.

There's an app for that?

The mighty iPhone. To some a symbol of pure excess. To others, an invaluable tool for everyday life. To others still, its a new way to make rude noises.

Apple, famously, discourages people from hacking the iPhone - as a way to us it with a different wireless provider than AT&T or as a means to write your own apps. They have all the apps you would ever need, they say, in many a recent commercial. View an MRI - there's an app for that. Drink a virtual brew - yep, there's an app for that. Digital flatulence - they got you covered!

This video is from some people at the Houston Chronicle. It made me laugh.


Do you use an iPhoney or a CrackBerry? Or are you more simple than that?

Tags: iPhone, Apps

"Mighty to Save"

¹⁶On that day they will say to Jerusalem,
"Do not fear, O Zion;
do not let your hands hang limp.

¹⁷The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing."

Zephaniah 3:16-17 (NIV)

Isn't it funny how some phrases can become so oft repeated that they become cliché? The frequency with which I've heard "mighty to save" used in recent months brings this thought to mind. Literally everywhere in religious circles, this phrase is en vogue and everyone seems to be using it. I hear it in sermons, I heard it used multiple times in recent concerts. The song by the same name (now up for a Dove Award) has been on the radio. The phrase so permeates Christian culture today that I almost wonder if it is becoming a lip service to those who use it so glibly.

And yet, this is an old, old truth. I just recently realized that a favorite hymn uses this same line, "Rescue the Perishing", written by Fanny Crosby in 1869 - "Tell them of Jesus, the mighty to save.". These words, spoken to give hope and comfort to the people of Judah that, despite the coming wrath of Jehovah, He will always be their strength and refuge. These words, which still give peace and hope today. They meant so much to Laura Story as she and her husband dealt with his recent cancer that she included the popular Hillsong song on her recent album - the only song on the album she did not have a hand in writing.

No, these words are not cliché.

I pray these words for a friend today. Like Laura Story's husband, his body is wracked with cancer. Brad has been fighting this for some two years, now; he has been under Hospice care since just after Christmas. Read more about his fight and his family at his wife blog. I've mentioned Brad before and his and his family's struggles. Brad's had some good days and bad days in the last couple of weeks. He's still praying and believes in God's mighty power to heal him.

I don't know God's will in this. I know Brad has been through much, and his family have cried with his pain and rejoiced in the triumphs. Please pray with me today that God sees fit to bring health to Brad, and that in these days of struggle every moment with his wife and two young children be moments that will last a lifetime.

Jehovah is mighty to save.

Dream a little dream of me

About a month ago I wrote about some weird dreams I had been having. Now, I could tell you some dreams that Mrs. E has had over the years and you would be going to the ER in need of a laugh-ectomy. But she knows where I sleep, and I want to live to see another day, so I will share more of my own personal strangeness.

Have you every noticed how really horrible fairy tales are? I mean, swindlers, child abandonment, being eaten by wild animals, self-mutilation - come on, this ain't kiddie lit! Take, for example, the lovely story by Hans Christian Andersen, "The Little Match Girl" - you can read it on-line here. I read that to my daughter when she was three, reading out of a big book of fairy tales. I'd never read the story before, so you can imagine how I felt as I concluded the story by retelling how the little girl froze to death on a street corner on New Year's Eve! And it was because she was afraid to go home to he father because he would beat her! Is it any wonder that we aren't all in desperate need of therapy?

Needless to say, one of the most enduring childhood dreams in my memory relates to a popular fairy tale. I had this dream I don't know how many times, and I still remember it like I had lived it only yesterday. In my dream I was Jack, and I had a beanstalk to climb.

Yep, that was the fairy tale dream I had.

Except it didn't go as well for me in my dream as it did for Jack in the fairy tale. And, considering the above observations, that means things went pretty bad for Euphrony and the Beanstalk. You see, I climbed the beanstalk, no problem. But my skills as a thief weren't as good as ol' Jack's and I didn't manage to get away with anything from the giant's castle.

Oh, and apparently my woodsmanship was not up to snuff, either, because I couldn't chop down the beanstalk. So, that means that the giant chasing me made it down to the ground safely - leaving me on the run in fear of becoming a man-pie at the giant's next banquet. I ran for safety and tried to hide at my grandparent's house, underneath a bed, and would occasionally peek out the window to see if the giant has given up yet. (As a boy I figured my grandparent's was a pretty good place. I mean, I would stay there and get a breakfast of Malt-o-Meal, biscuits and sausage, have sweet tea in the evenings, and pretend to take a nap while actually spying through the door to watch General Hospital with my grandma. Is there any better place to be?)

So that's how the dream would end, me cowering under a bed and the giant stomping on nearby houses trying to find me. I think one of the last times I had this dream (which I actually had into high school!) I woke up but couldn't move a muscle - I was frozen in place by what is known as REM atonia, which is scary as all get out.

Is it any wonder that I turned out the way I am? Some of you may still think I need to lay off the crazy juice, but I'm afraid I have to break the news to you - I don't need no juice to be crazy, it comes all on its own.

Anyway, do you have a fairy tale that has left you in need of a little catharsis? Do tell . . .

If I could . . .

So, here I was thinking the other day about how I have a hard time seeing some of my favorite artists in concert. The reason, I was guessing, is that many of these artists tend to perform in small, acoustic settings. And Houston just doesn't have anything set up for small venue acoustic concerts that includes Christian artists in the mix. (By "Christian artists" I mean artists who predominantly produce CCM style music. I know that there are plenty of artists that hit the small Houston venues who are Christians.)

So, as I said, I was thinking (a dangerous pastime, I know) that I would absolutely love to open something like a coffeehouse which would regularly feature live acoustic performances from some great Christian artists (and by "Christian artists" i mean - well, we've talked about that). I can name a laundry list of people who I would invite in to play. Jason Gray, Pierce Pettis, Andrew Peterson, Steven Delapoulos, JJ Heller, Cindy Morgan, Sara Groves, Shaun Groves (no relation), Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, Charlie Peacock, Matt Brouwer (he's here in Houston, so that shouldn't be hard), Fiction Family (seriously, have you heard this collaboration between Jon Foreman of Switchfoot and Sean Watkins of Nickel Creek?), Andrew Osenga, Emily DeLoach - and that's just for starters.

I only forsee two problems with ever pursuing this dream:

1. I have no business acumen and less ability to promote events. Seriously, I'm lousy at selling anything or running a business.
2. I detest coffee. I mean, I even hate the smell of the stuff. I'd get nauseous being in a coffee house for too long. (Maybe I could go with more of a pub theme?)

So, other than those two setbacks, I could be well on my way to my dream.

What would your dream job be?

cause you don't mess around with a Norse God

Copyright 2008 News Group Newspapers Ltd

A builder scared off a house-breaker by running at him dressed as the Norse god Thor.

The terrified intruder leapt from a first floor window to escape Torvald Alexander, who was dressed as the Norse god of thunder in a red cape and silver helmet and breastplate.

Sometimes it pays to read The Scotsman. Really, I can't say anything else - mainly cause I'm laughing so much.

By the way, for those who are thinking jumping from the first floor window is nothing - in Europe, the first floor is the second story (above the ground floor).

Tags: Thor, Scotland, Crazy News

These dreams (or, a little therapy)

So, many of you may realize that I am a little bit on the weird side. I like math, I read encyclopedias (don't let me get started on Wikipedia, or I'll never get off), I look for new words and try to use them, I talk about rheology, etc. Well, lately my brain has been vividly releasing the more peculiar of the random firings of neurons in the old gray cells. I've had some doozies of some dreams.

In the spirit of getting things off my chest, while simultaneously giving you something to laugh at me about, I'll share. Aren't you the lucky ones!

So, here is one of the more traumatic of my recent dreams. The Euphrony family is driving in the euphony-mobile (a lovely minivan, if you must know). We pull up to a shopping mall of some kind, and we're near the doors - still in the car. I start getting everyone out of the car when suddenly a couple of guys jump out. One is unarmed but the other is holding a knife on me and shows me a gun in his coat. (You know, like all the bad guys do in the movies.) They proceed to rob us and then let us go. I get back in the car and drive the family around (I don't know where) and we end up back at the crime scene, talking with the police. I'm trying to explain that we were robbed but they don't know what to think; you see, the thieves didn't take everything we had. They left some money in my wallet, but took the big bills. They took my camera but left the telephoto lens. They took some things, but left enough that the cops don't think we were robbed. I look up and the next thing I know I see the guy who had the knife and gun walking out of the mall, like nothing had happened. I start yelling to the cops that that's the guy, but they look at me like I'm crazy or accusing the Pope of taking candy from a baby. Then I wake up.

So, what do you think? Am I loony? Have you had dreams like this? Hey, at least I didn't get stabbed (that was in a dream two weeks ago).

Next time, I'll share one of my favorite childhood dreams. If you care. (Hint, it involves a popular fairy tale.)

The Stay Puft Marshmallow Santa

Really, this is pretty much just plain wrong. Check it out - a 25' (or 30', it's at least as tall as that two-story house) inflatable Santa! I'm calling Dr. Venkman. And The Cachinnator, because I know how much he loves these things.


What's your opinion of this - holiday cheer or monstrosity?

Tags: Santa, Inflatable, Giant

Brando vs. Grover: Too close to call

Grover in "A Streetcar Named Monster"


Marlon Brando in "A Streetcar Named Desire"


Hard to pick the better performance.

Tags: Grover, Marlon Brando, Streetcar

Repair Cat

When you think of brilliant people capable of fixing anything, who comes to mind? That guy at the car shop around the corner, your uncle Bob, Scotty from Star Trek? How about Fluffy? (Yes, my cat is named Fluffy. You got a problem with that?)

Well, here's the story of how Fluffy, Repair Cat, managed to fix my broken iPod.

Side story: So, I quit my job last Monday. You know that, I assume. On my way out I had to empty my work computer of personal files - including music. Did I mention that all of these files were not on any other computer? And I was in the process of transferring these to backup at home - with my iPod as the transfer device. And then I come home and a couple of days later (before I could backup the files and music) my iPod started displaying the "Sad iPod" icon. Which, I'm told, means my hard drive is fried.

Yes, my iPod crashed! With irreplaceable files and music on it! AHHHHH!

I go in to the local Apple store at the mall, make an appointment, and talk to the people at the "Genius" Bar. Personally, I think they have more bar than genius there, but . . . Anyway, they listen to my iPod (repair by intuiting?) and tell me I can get a new/recycled one for only $210, and too bad about the songs and data.

Not being satisfied with losing hundreds of dollars worth of music, I decided to do some investigation on my own. It turns out that there are a great many people dissatisfied with the service at the "Genius" bar. It turns out that many people who see the "Sad iPod" have a much simpler problem than a crashed hard drive - its as easy as the hard drive cable has come loose. Now, most people find the solution to be opening the iPod, unplugging and replugging the cable. Other, less sophisticated repairmen, find flinging the iPod against the wall an effective solution. Being a tad more adept than a monkey, I decided to get up, get some tools, and pop open the iPod.

However, a funny thing happened on the way to the repair table. Fluffy (you remember, my cat) decided to trip me. The iPod slipped from my grasp and fell three feet to the floor - thonk! I figure, some people find this to be a fix so lets give it a try. Sure enough, the iPod starts right up. Thanks, Fluffy! I really appreciate your help. And thanks, but no thanks "Genius" bar people - I'm going straight to the cat next time.

Tags: iPod, Repair, Sad iPod, Cats

Thursday (in bullet points)

• Wake up, shower, dress, then wake Lil'E.
• Prod Lil'E into eating, dressing, and getting out the door. Drop her off at school, while she complains about not remembering all the lyrics for "Feliz Navidad".
• Run by Sonic for morning drink-stop.
• Return home to wake Mrs. E and Lil'er E. Prod Mrs. E into acting alive while getting Lil'er E ready for pre-school.
• Take Lil'er E to pre-school, then return home.
• Begin enjoying hours of mid-day datetime with Mrs. E.
• Head out from the house, and eat lunch with Mrs. E at The Cheesecake Factory.
• Shepherds pie at The Cheesecake Factory is good, but not like what I've had in Scotland.
• Stroll through the mall and pick out a new light jacket that does not have my old company's logo on it.
• Leave the mall and go bowling with Mrs. E. Proceed to be totally embarrassed as I average 85 over two games, get beat the first game by 40, and slide down the alley after a foot fault turned into a total loss of dignity.
• Realize that bowling only once every 18 months does not leave one in decent shape to be a consistent bowler. Big surprise.
• Leave the bowling alley and head by Sonic for the afternoon drink-stop. Drop Mrs. E off at the house to let her have a few minutes alone while I go pick up Lil'er E from school.
• Drop Lil'er E off at the house, realizing he would be totally flipping out while waiting to pick up big sis.
• Leave to pick up Lil'E from kindergarten. Come home and help with her homework.
• Play with the kids for a few minutes, then bundle the family into the car to go see Bolt at the Movie Tavern.
• Watch the kids enjoy lots of popcorn, fries, corndogs, and a movie about a dog. On a school night.
• Come home, tuck the kids in bed, relax with Mrs. E, and write this blog.

G'nite!

Things to do while in the dentist chair

Euphrony had his semi-annual dental check up and cleaning yesterday. As I sat with my mouth open and mind wandering for 40 minutes I had plenty of time to come up with ideas of how to fill the time. Below are a few suggestions for time in the hot seat:

1. Stare into the big, bright light directly in front of your face (with a follow-up visit to your optometrist).
2. Tap your toes to the best mellow hits of the 70's, 80's, 90's, and today!
3. Contemplate one's navel (but not the lint).
4. Count ceiling tiles (my dentist has large tiles, so only four were visible, along with two fluorescent light banks and one air vent).
5. Think of things to do in a dentist chair and mentally write a blog post about it.
6. Sleep (requires some talent to keep mouth agape and not snore in the process).
7. Go through a mid-life crisis (nice because it gets compressed into a short time frame, and you're already in pain from the dentist picking at your gums).

Any other suggestions?

Tags: Dentist, Lists, Activities

Use Form 1706b (I think)

You think bureaucracy in the U.S. is bad? Well, it gets much worse.

I was talking to a couple of guys at work this morning - one of whom is Chinese and in his fifties. We were complaining about the crazy way bureaucracy works at the job, especially with human resources (that's got to be one of the worst misnomers ever). He then started telling us about working in China in the early 1980's, where the HR department is actually two departments of the communist party. Everything in your life went through your job "HR" people.

Everything.

He told us he had to submit an application to get married. It took a couple of months to get approved; and they told him that he could get married, but not live together until the next calendar year.

But that was better than for his parents, he continued. In the 50s and 60s the "HR" people kindly suggested who you should marry. In fact, they would often offer you a promotion if the marriage did not seem one you would want. Of course, turning down this proposal would result in your being laid off - but hey, you had a choice!

Things are pretty cynical around here right now, with work bureaucracy getting downright ridiculous. This made me feel a modicum of gratitude for being where I'm at instead of someplace worse.

In review . . .

An idea for a new life application note

You know how all the specialized bibles these days have little sidebars where they give some kind of life application of the scripture? Well, in that vein I have a suggestion based on the observations of Lil'E tonight.

The Situation: Euphrony is driving the Little E's home after Lil'E's dance class at the YMCA. A black Camry (remarkably antithetical to Euphrony's white Camry) pulls out into the turn lane and proceeds (with utter disregard to the presence of my car) to pull into my lane and nearly hit me. When Lil'E asks what happened I tell her which car nearly hit ours.

The Application: Lil'E wisely comments "I know what kind of car that is. Do you know what kind of car it is, dad? It's a tax collector!" Since ancient Jews seemed to think all tax collectors were evil, then it is reasonable to believe that all people who do bad things are tax collectors. Right?

I don't know how biblical this really is, but it sure seems profound to me. Words to live by. And remember, whenever a car almost crashes into your own it may well be a tax collector. And beware when you drive of acting like a tax collector and driving recklessly. Or collecting taxes.

Vigilantes on the prowl

They stalk the highways and byways of America. They do not respect age or location or position. No fence is a deterrent, no wall to high. The weapons they carry are well-used and ever-ready.

Only one thing is sacred to these people - the English language. And woe be to he who dares misuse it on a public sign.

Have you heard about these two? They call themselves the Typo Eradication Advancement League (TEAL for short), but most people just call them the typo vigilantes. Their mission, since earlier this year, is to go around the country and correct - with or without permission - the errata found on signage everywhere. Below is a sample of them at "work". Be it the missing apostrophe, misspelled word, over-used comma, or poor grammar, they will find a way to correct it with tape, white-out, and magic marker.


I first read about these guys earlier this year when I was in Boston (the hometown of one of the two). They've been featured on NPR and the subject of several interviews. Their latest interviewer was, unfortunately for them, a judge. Apparently, people didn't take too kindly to their correction of mistakes on a hand-drawn sign at the Grand Canyon. It seems there their handiwork has landed them a fine, parole, and a one-year ban from all national parks or correction of any public signs. Alas, it seems the government frowns upon correction of its mistakes, especially in historic settings.

What do you think of these guys and their mission? Are they, as the Chicago Tribune called them, "a pair of Kerouacs armed with Sharpies and erasers and righteous indignation"? Or are they yahoos with too much time on their hands? More important, what would you do if you found them correcting your sign?

Tags: Typo, Sign, Grand Canyon, Man on a Mission

Knowledge exploring is oh so lyrical when you think thoughts that are empirical!

Yep, from this day forward our little girl with be exploring knowledge and swimming off to "the dropoff" five days a week. Lil'E is officially a kindergarten kid.

(Pause while Mr. and Mrs. E wipe their teary eyes)

I'm still trying to figure out how this happened. It seems like just the other day I was changing her diapers and teaching her to say "mama" and "dada" and "route 44 diet coke". Now she can already spell them and some other words, plus draw like a big kid and ignore her parents like a teenager. Where has the time gone?

We went to the school on Friday to meet her teacher. While Lil'E put away her school supplies Lil'er E nearly disassembled her nicely put-together room (she was glad to see him leaving, I think). She seems nice - at least she doesn't look like an evil teacher, right?

Can't say that we're not a little nervous. We've heard many good things about the school and the school district, but with so many people now opting to homeschool or private school their kids you can't help but question if you're doing the right thing. One thing that seems certain (at least right now) is that homeschooling is not an option - Lil'E simply won't let us teach her anything, but she listens well to "teacher". We'll just have to see what life brings and continue the great debate (I'm almost afraid to ask for advice), but I'm fairly confident that the school will be terrific and she'll do great.

So, off we go on the next great adventure of parenting.

Tags: First Day of School, Kindergarten, Finding Nemo

Things I just don't understand

Why does CNN.com offer a convenient link next to select articles allowing you to purchase a tee-shirt with the headline printed on it (for only $15, plus $4.99 S/H)? I was considering getting this one, but then I though to myself "what statement am I really trying to make by wearing this shirt?" The answer, unfortunately, was "I'm a dork!" and thus the idea was abandoned.



Seriously, though, why? It just makes no sense. Or am I just to old, as I approach 35 years here, to understand?

(Side note: CNN offers a FAQ on their shirts, and even a place where you can upload photos of yourself stylin' with the latest headlines. Even cooler!)

Tags: CNN, T-shirt, Tee, Headline, News

My wife has a favorite Sonic carhop

Yes, you read that right. Mrs. E not only has preferred Sonic locations to go to for her diet cherry coke, easy ice, but she actually has a favorite carhop at her favorite Sonic. There are a few others, but they don't rank as high in her book.

I guess that's not so odd, really. What I find funny is that all of her fellow Sonic-addicted friends agree with her choice. It's like how they all went to see the same person to get their hair cut, they flock together to Sonic. Except with Sonic they're going there daily, maybe even more often.

I don't know what the point of this is. I'll stop talking now.