Testing Testing 1.2.3.

Let's see how amazingly this
new $3 app does for me. I purchased it from bed at 5:30 in the morning.


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Location:Ulysses,United States

Going Hunting At Daybreak

I'm laying here in bed, in the dark, thinking about adventure and what a new day brings. I'm thinking that adventure, in the most thrilling sense of the word, seems ever elusive to those leading what might be termed typical lives. We wake up and go to work each day, leaving before there's time to do much, and returning home too late to do much. Now I'm not complaining, rather I'm inviting any and all to participate in my wandering exploration of the idea of adventure. For, on the one hand, I don't feel unhappy at all. Quite to the contrary, I find myself quite animated and quite anxious for each new day. At the same time, when I come to write a post about adventure, I find myself without much physical material. So what exactly constitutes an adventure? Will I have one today? Did I have one yesterday? Is it only an adventure if it proves entertaining to an audience after the fact? Or is a satisfactory adventure qualified only by the new things we do in our lives each day? Is it an adventure to try to keep a running blog suturing my varying pursuits together? All I find myself with today are questions, and most likely tomorrow will be the same—I enjoy questions because it means I still have a puzzle to solve.
I want to know where the heart of adventure is truly to be found, and as day begins to break here in a snow covered upstate New York, I'm going hunting for it.

Awesome Entertainment

May I just say that I feel I hold myself to a high level of quality when it comes to television, movies, etc. I think most who know me would say the same. So I hope my reputation speaks for the quality I find in the series Veggie Tales. I don't watch it a lot, but no one who watches it wastes any time. It is one of the only worthwhile things I know of on the television. So, to illustrate, here are two clips I really enjoy.

Learning to Fix What's Broke

I've always been one with an insatiable appetite for information and ability. The more I can learn to do the better I feel. It's like with every new bit of information another part of the world opens up to you. This goes for everything from film, to math, to languages, to brake pads. I recently had my vehicle in for its New York state inspection. The only comment they had at the end was that the brake pads barely passed inspection. In fact they only gave me about a week of city driving or a month of highway driving before I'd start hitting the rotors. I kind of think they were crazy . . . but I'm no mechanic.

The reason I think that is because after much encouragement from my wife I replaced my own brake pads.

--Now as a side note, isn't it an amazing thing to have a spouse who loves you? I think that in a healthy marriage you always have so much more confidence in the abilities of your spouse than they have in you. I'm grateful for that because my wife has helped me accomplish so much more than I ever would have on my own. She is the confidence that moves upon me.--

So anyways, I fixed my own brake pads. I was pretty reticent the whole time. Like a kid with stage fright who is pushed onto stage, all the while trying to dig in his heels. I did it though. The final no turning back point was buying the brake pads. When you throw $70 at something, you'd better go through with it (as another side note, my Calculus teacher taught me that lesson when she told me I'd be better off not taking the AP Calculus test because I'd be throwing my money away . . . lesson learned).

So Saturday I came home with brake pads, a Ford Explorer Manual, and not enough time to get the job done. An hour later I'd changed my first set of brake pads with little incident and had also run out of time. The brakes, and my truck, would be forced to wait for another day to be finished. Luckily my in-laws have an extra vehicle they don't use and they are good enough to allow us to drive it around.

Well, bad luck brought in some pretty terrible weather. The next two days were cold, rain and wind. Three days later I had a window of clear weather and went out to finish the job. Forget it. My father in-law passed by 20 minutes after I'd started and I let him know that I was almost done. 30 minutes later I had to call him over for help.

For those who know, there are four caliper pins between your 2 front disc brakes. They should pull out easily by hand. There's no threads on them, they're just greased up pins that easily pull in and out--at least they should easily pull in and out. My 4th pin didn't budge. I laughed at the situation. Of course it wasn't the first or second pin on the first. Not even the first pin on the second side. No, it was the very last pin on the very last side and was the very last thing I needed to do to finish the job. I struggled for another little while with my father in-law. We finally had to work a pair of vice-grips onto the pin and slam on it with a big wrench. It took a lot and the whole vehicle shook, but that pin finally came out. It was too late though, so I secured the hanging caliper and put the wheel back on and headed inside, blasted caliper pin in hand.

You remember I said the other three pulled out easily by hand (if you blew hard enough you may have gotten those first three out), this one took more brute force than it takes to knock down a wall. The culprit of it all was some lame-o technician who had put this pin in with no grease. For the last 2 years at least it had been driving metal-on-metal. The entire thing was corroded and just a terrible mess. It was at this point that I was beginning to question my wisdom in deciding to change the brake pads myself. I was now going on day four without my truck and I was getting tired of waiting for weather and struggling over what should have been so simple.

The next night, somewhat in frustration but mainly in determination, I went out and for an hour and a half worked in the dark, in the rain, on the brakes. I had to sand down the pin first so that I could see the silver again. Then, per my father's instructions given me over the phone, I wrapped some sand paper around a pencil and filed out the inside of the pin hole. Then I greased the pin and held my breath. Another ten or fifteen minutes and it was all done. I can proudly say I drove my truck to and from work today with no problems . . . fingers crossed.

Now, to any who do a lot of work on their own car this may sound simplistic and ridiculous to you, but I challenge you to tackle something you have no experience in and tell me how it goes. I for one learned a lot from this and gained a lot of confidence I did not have before. A portion of the world opened up to me.

A few of the things I learned were:

1. You really can do more than you think yourself capable. If you don't believe me, find yourself a loving and encouraging companion. The ability to be self-sufficient is a great feeling. The more I can do the greater aid I can be to someone else. Now, don't misunderstand, but self-sufficient I don't mean the age-old "I am an island." I believe we all need one another, but we allow ourselves to be far too lazy than we should. And as a note, every island is really connected to the rest of the earth . . . there's no such thing as a floating land mass in my experience.

2. It's great to have a father. What a wonder it is to have someone I can look to for instruction. When we have parents we love and who love us we can skip so much in life, standing on their shoulders and our children on our shoulders. In such a way we continue to build each succeeding generation higher than the one that preceded it.

3. God works in our lives. I wanted to be so frustrated at the situation--the sticking caliper pin. It seemed so stupid. For a brief time I was angry at the situation. You know what though? As I looked at it, analyzed the situation, and thought about it, I realized I'd put the two pins back in the wrong spots on the first side. Had such a hard situation not occurred, and had it been easier to finish the second side, I would have taken off in my truck with the parts in the wrong place and who knows what that would have caused. It took such a difficult situation to get me to recognize and fix such a simple problem. Anyone can see what they will in the situation, but there is a higher power that will help us even in the simplest of tasks and situations if we are awake to it.

P.S. The brake pads were only about half-worn.

From Among the Great Ones of Our Dispensation

Again I find myself reading a book in some of my spare time. Mainly I read it on my lunch hour at work and it's the second time I've studied its pages and I've never failed to be disappointed in how much I walk away with. The book is called Isaac Asimov on Numbers. It's a book about mathematics. Now to the singleminded and those whose blinders allow them interest only in one chosen field, a book about mathmatics may not seem too enticing, but I am one who revels in any new learning or knowledge. As a result I rejoice in a writer who can help me understand binary code in the course of a few pages, or make imaginary numbers less imaginary for me. In any case I'd recommend this book to anyone with a thirst for knowledge. My reason for posting this here, however, is more specific.
Now, I am not one to condone the behavior widespread in society today of trying to be better than someone else, but I am a fan of moments of pure intelligence flowing into an individual, espcially in the midst of an intellectual and idealogical debate. Such a story was to be found within the pages of this book and I just thought I'd post the debate here for any with interest to read. Bear in mind that this is about Isaac Asimov when he was a young student facing off against an already established professor:

When I was a mere slip of a lad and attended college, I had a friend with whom I ate lunch every day. His 11 a.m. class was in sociology, which I absolutely refused to take, and my 11 a.m. class was calculus, which he as steadfastly refused to take--so we had to separate at eleven and meet at twelve.
As it happened, his sociology professor was a scholar who did things in the grand manner, holding court after class was over. The more eager students gathered close and listened to him pontificate for an additional fifteen minutes, while they threw in an occasional log in the form of a question to feed the flame of the oracle.
Consequently, when my calculus lecture was over, I had to enter the sociology room and wait patiently for court to conclude.
Once I walked in when the professor was listing on the board his classification of mankind into the two groups of mystics and realists, and under mystics he had included the mathematicians along with the poets and theologians. One student wanted to know why.
"Mathematicians," said the professor, "are mystics because they believed in numbers that have no reality."
Now ordinarily, as a nonmember of the class, I sat in the corner and suffered in silent boredom, but now I rose convulsively, and said, "What numbers?"
The professor looked in my direction and said, "The square root of minus one. It has no existence. Mathematicians call it imaginary. But they believe it has some kind of existence in a mystical way."
"There's nothing mystical about it," I said, angrily. "The square root of minus one is just as real as any other number."
The professor smiled, feeling he had a live on on whom he could now proceed to display his superiority of intellect (I have since had classes of my own and I know exactly how he felt). He said, silkily, "We have a young mathematician here who wants to prove the reality of the square root of minus one. Come, young man, hand me the square root of minus one pieces of chalk!"
I reddened, "Well, now, wait--"
"That's all," he said, waving his hand. Mission, he imagined, accomplisshed, both neatly and sweetly.
But I raised my voice. "I'll do it. I'll do it. I'll hand you the square root of minus one pieces of chalk, if you hand me a one-half piece of chalk."
The professor smiled again, and said, "Very well," broke a fresh piece of chalk in half, and handed me one of the halves. "Now for your end of the bargain."
"Ah, but wait," I said, "you haven't fulfilled your end. This is one piece of chalk you've handed me, not a one-half piece." I held it up for the others to see. "Wouldn't you all say this was one piece of chalk? It certainly isn't two or three."
Now the professor wasn't smiling. "Hold it. One piece of chalk is a piece of regulation length. You have one that's half the regulation length."
I said, "Now you're springing an arbitrary definition on me. But even if I accept it, are you willing to maintain that this is a one-half piece of chalk and not a 0.48 piece or a 0.52 piece? And can you really consider yourself qualified to discuss the square root of minus one, when you're a little hazy on the meaning of one half?"
But by now the professor had lost his equanimity altogether and his final argument was unanswerable. He said, "Get the hell out of here!" I left (laughing) and thereafter waited for my friend in the corridor.


So there you have it ladies and gentlemen. From that little discourse I think it was evident that the development of Asimov's mind and interests was already beyond the norm and well on it's way to placing him to where he now rests among the great ones of our dispensation's thinkers. If you want any more from him or if you want a quick easy way to understand imaginary numbers or other mathematical concepts that are really neat, just pick up the book and away you go.

True Love

I was moved to tears by this depiction of love. I feel overwhelmed at times by the world's misperception of love and our misplaced attention on the explosive emotions at the onset of each new relationship. The kind of love the world has interpreted the Beatles as meaning is not 'all you need.' Rather the kind of charity depicted in this film is 'all you need' and more. May each of us strive to have such compassion and patience to spouse, friend, family, acquaintance and stranger.

Gordon B. Hinckley

I just finished reading a biography about the 97 year life of Gordon B. Hinckley, prophet and president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Few have lived as he lived. He seemed to be running about accomplishing good all his life and he was doing it right up until he died. He didn't seem to take much time to warm up, and there was no warm down. I should like to live such a life.
I recommend the biography to anyone, though it takes some intent to read through it's 600 pages. I think that anyone who starts to read it, however, will feel compelled to complete it. The writing is easy and the stories inspiring. I am especially fond of his life's emphasis on working hard to accomplish good and a continual reference to the fact that he never retired, but as he got older seemed to be doing more and more. He is probably one of the most well traveled men in the history of the world and at 80 and 90 was keeping up a travel schedule to visit the people of the world that wore down his younger travel mates.
In any case, I encourage all to take the chance to read about this man and his life. If the world had more men of the integrity and work ethic of Gordon B. Hinckley I am of the opinion that not only would there be no recession, but the earth would have in good measure fulfilled the purpose of it's creation and heaven not be too far distant.
The title of the book is "Forward with Faith" and it is by Sherrie L. Dew.

Food for thought

I am not a scientist or any other sort of erudite who expects to be taken with more than an ounce of seriousness. I do have a voice, and all voices are meant for saying things. I also have a mind and all minds are intended to devise upon things. So recently I have come to a certain conclusion and I'd like to share it here.
The conclusion came as a sudden culmination of a few years of readings. None of the readings were done together, nor ever intended to add up to anything, but as with the discovery of penicillin, this realization occured not because intended, but as a fortunate accident because all the cues were there.
The most recent reading was the biography of LDS prophet and former church president Gordon B. Hinckley. President Hinckley lived to be 97 years old! Not only was he 97 years old, but he was active and traveling the world right up to that point. I also read the biography of LDS prophet and former church president Spencer W. Kimball who lived similarly. Other readings are scattered but concerned people who were physically active well into their 80s and 90s and often even into their 100s. Where does so much life and energy come from? What makes the difference? Is it chance, or are there lessons we could learn to prolong our own lives? It is my opinion that there are lessons.
The most striking of these lessons that I've felt inclined to agree with has nothing to do with medicine. It has nothing to do with nutritional diet. There are a lot of theories about long life and this has nothing to do with most of them. That is not to say I don't think nutrition and other factors play a part, but it is to say that there is an aspect to long life that I think goes without notice too often.
Hard work. That is a key. All of these men and women who lived to such advanced ages were working hard from their youth and were still working hard when they passed away. Now I don't know exactly what the connection is, nor the tie in. I do know that when you are in the service of God, full and resolute, that he will refresh you and provide for you the power and ability to serve. Beyond that, I don't know much. The quality of hard work is there in every example I've known. There's something about accomplishing things with our lives. The sooner we let-up, the sooner our bodies seem to let-up. When we are constantly pushing our ability to accomplish to the limit, each and every day, we find that our bodies slow down much quicker.
It's as if our bodies know how much we intend to do. When we spend a lot of time each day lazily watching TV our bodies slow down that much quicker. When they don't feel needed, they don't feel the need to continue. That would explain why someone who is constantly working themselves--heart, might, mind, and strength--would live so much longer. Their bodies recognize a need to repair, refresh, energize, etc.
Again, it's just food for thought. I don't know that I'd ever take the time to prove it scientifically. My own derivings are proof enough for me.

Separate Church and State and Atheism

My thoughts are not for the convincing of others, but for the reaffirmation of that which we ought already know is true--and for those who don't know it, I've allowed access because I believe you'll listen. Now, that said, I wanted to speak quickly to an incident occuring in the Capitol Building in Washington State. For years they displayed a Mennorah (sp?). Then, after some fuss, they put up a Nativity. Now, after much more fuss, the atheists have a display. What is it? It's a sign that reads as follows:"At this season of the winter solstice, may reason prevail. There are no gods, no devils, no angels, no heaven or hell. There is only our natural world. Religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds."The sign is not pretty, it's a white board that reads as posted. Now I have a lot of friends who are atheists. Do I have an issue with them? No. I disagree with them, but we are friends. Likewise I would not have a problem being friends with anyone of any faith, and I would hope never to cut down their beliefs. Joseph Smith said that if one were unresponsive to the gospel message he would not wrestle with them, but rather build them up in the good of their lives and then "truth will cut its own way." We build up--regardless. I am curious, then, as to why anyone felt it would be appropriate to post this sign. A mennorah does not cut down a Christian's belief, nor an atheists. A nativity does not cut against another either. This sign, however, is deliberately aimed at telling those who are of faith that they are unreasonable. That is, in effect, what 'may reason prevail' is alluding to. A nativity isn't crying out against an atheist saying your beliefs are false and lead to terrible things, but this sign is saying that religion does. Why Washington State felt that this sign was somehow fair and equal is beyond me. It is deliberately offensive (as opposed to the nativity which may inadvertently offend). And when did it become okay for the beliefs of an atheist to be 'state' related, but not the beliefs of a 'christian'? That's the argument being made by many. Take christianity and all religion out of the schools and replace it with atheism. Perhaps they don't see it, but atheism is just another religion. They have no tangible proof for their beliefs than do the christians. I can't show you that God exists, nor can you show me he doesn't. I hope this helps all who read it to have a clearer perspective on things. Again, I don't feel one religion should have more rights than another, but I do believe there must be equal respect for all, and atheists (like those who demanded this sign) do not give that respect and so I feel to take away from them their right for free speech. We didn't defend free speech so that we could criticize and berail one another, but rather that all respectful and peaceable ideas could be heard. May it ever be the case.

Good Better Best

Those who move about the world trying to be the best have made a terrible error and I herein hope to illustrate, clearly, their follies. It is then my hope that with a little clarification and a lot of encouragement we can all get on the only track of deep and lasting value--the track that leads one to be their best.When one puts all their hard work into being the best they've done two things and we'll discuss them in tandem. First, they've spent all that time and energy to, if they're lucky, become better at what they've chosen than anyone else. This is as fleeting as trying to hold water in your hands. Records are continually broken, or the world moves on and never remembers one's chosen vocation, trade, occupation, hobby, or sport. In short, the best will always be a fleeting achievement. Never something to have for more than a moment. Those who have spent their lives to achieve the best will find that they've achieved nothing of real note or lasting value. Second, they've spent all that time and energy to cheat themselves out of real accomplishment. The reason for this is that if one has given their all in an endeavor to be the best and they come up second, they will forever feel the failure. No matter how much growth one attains, if they do not become the best and that was their goal, they will again have spent their lives for nothing. I mean no real criticism, rather sadness for the many I see attempting this (though sadder still for those attemtping nothing).On top of all of this, the real nature of being the best means nothing more than assuring that those around you are worse off than yourself. That is essentially the point isn't it? And how many truly want to admit to that as their aspiration? If everyone ran 8 minute miles, then you would only need to run a 7:30 mile to be the best. Yet is that the best that man can produce? No. It seems a silly example, I'm sure, but it is resting, as we say, on the nail's head.Politically we see this in how often candidates will speak about their opponent. I don't care what any candidate thinks about their opponent. I'll listen to the opponent later, for the moment tell me about yourself. Do you see the illustration of the principal? So much of election time is spent by our candidates digging up dirt on each other and then presenting the dirt. If all that time spent mud slinging were spent on policies and self-improvement, how much better would our candidates be? How much better would America be if we all followed suit?Striving to be the best cheats us of our true potential. Because trying to be the best means we're already spending at least some time checking to make sure our opponents are still worse off than we are. That, as before, is time that could have been spent improving our own game, or intelligence, or such as it may be. The solution is simply to change the terminology. We must endeavor to be our best.An individual is the only true and honest judge of what best is. Only I know whether I'm giving it my all or not. Only I can limit myself. Likewise only I can be the impetus for doing better. When everyone in a society is interested in getting better together, that doesn't mean everyone has to be just as good as everyone else. It means, simply, that everyone is trying to be their very own best and at the same time encouraging everyone around them to improve. A society grows together in this fashion. The desire to be the best is an isolating one at best, because it means that you want your friends to be beneath you. How else could you be the best? The desire to be your best however, is an all encompassing one. It draws everyone to you, because we realize the healthiness of competition. Not for the sake of being better one from the other, but of seeing how we're doing, and learning from the other. I love to play against someone I will lose to, because it means that the more I play them, the more I'll learn about what I'm doing that could be improved. I don't want to be better than that person necessarily, but I want to know that I'm better after playing them than I was before.When a life is spent in the pursuit of being its best then there is perfect and lasting contentment at the end. Being our best is the only really achievable goal in any case, and it is the only one upon which a society can be founded. Healthy competition is good on the field, in school, or in the market place. But that is a complicated competition. The competition to be the best is a sadly simple one that involves cutting down those around you. A society founded by such people could never last, and we are watching what it is doing to America.In short and to summarize, we need more citizens who are willing to lose. More citizens confident in themselves, so that at election time we hear more good ideas and less criticism. So that in our sports we don't just watch for the best players each year, but we watch as the entire sport is improved. We need more citizens who understand that the only way for real growth is to work together, holding each other up. To be the best is for society to stand in one spot and, as in the game king-of-the-mountain, knock everyone else down as they try to get up to us . . . and it will always be a lonely spot at the top of that mountain.

You Have to Check the Barrel Before Firing

Just a quick note to bring everyone to their senses. On Friday November 28.2008 a man was trampled to death inside a Wal-Mart shopping center in the early hours of the morning. He was pronounced dead at 6am. I found this out by means of a really tiny link on the left side of the msnbc.msn.com home page. The main articles involved media stars, sports stars, our new president, Iraq, and a shoot-out across the world in a Hotel in India. This man was a tiny link off to the side.At some point America is going to realize that it can no longer use global altruism as an excuse for ignoring our problems at home. We cannot pat ourselves on the back for being so generous in giving to those across the world when we do not know those who live next door to us. We cannot continue to concern ourselves with the problems of the rest of the world until we can teach Americans to care more about human life than they do about their 'things.' Friday last we learned that to 2000+ people sales on Xbox's, Legos, Jewelry, and TVs were all more important than another man's life. I hope their gifts work as good as they hope, and that they saved a heap of money, because they've sold their good names, virtue and souls to obtain them. Oh but I'm sorry, this is about India isn't it?

Robin Hood or John Hancock?

What follows is a proper proposal for the organization and execution of property taxes.When the Declaration of Independence was signed it was to refute a government that didn't belong to the people. It was to refute any right said government claimed for taking their property (specifically by means of taxation). It is puzzling then, today, that so many Americans are run out of their homes and off their lands by this government that was intended to secure those very rights. And more puzzling is that nothing is done about it--shy of complaints from many.May I say that complaints and blame placing have never solved a problem. Propositions, however, can pave a way to solutions; though they be not solutions in and of themselves.The main problem is not simply that people lose their homes, or land, or other property. Many in America deserve to lose what they have. Many in America live too far outside of their needs. Many in America have moved themselves financially outside the reach of any life preserver we may toss them and their property. It is not to these that I address my proposal (nor would it help them in any case). Rather my comments are for anyone willing to listen with active ears, and the same comments are in benefit of those who, like many of my in-laws here in upstate New York, are being forced from their land and property by the continuing rise in taxes. Mind you these are lands families have held for years, upon which they have labored year after year to make as valuable as they now are. Never have they grown remarkably more wealthy, nor has anyone ever given them any property handout. The value of their property is the value of the family's work ethic (Unfortunately you can't, apparently, spend work ethic to pay for your property taxes). As a result, many can no longer afford to live on their lands or in their homes. They are being told that their homes, land, and neighborhoods have become too elite for them and they'd be better off seeking lodging in a 'less ritzy' part of the land. Now does that sound like the America or the government that blood was spilt for?I have nothing against our government asking much of us. But our government cannot justifiably ask more from us than we can reasonably give. Somewhere along the lines that concept has been lost. I place no blame. Now that you have my mind, here is my proposal.Inflation, we're told, will never stop. It will become increasingly more costly to run schools and states and governments. This point I cede. What is paid today in taxes will not suffice ten years from now. So as cost goes up, so must taxes. Sadly our own payroll doesn't follow suit. The rising taxes can never, if we are to do justice, chase an honest and responsible family from their home.Today taxes are based on third party assessments which we won't even jokingly call unbiased. We know how the program works. Each year someone tells us our home is worth more than it was previously and as a result we need to pay more in taxes. Okay fine--to a point. That point is whatever can be deemed a reasonable percentage of a family's joint income for the year. We can figure this out based on taxes (for any who would refute that, take a seat, because for years the government has regulated what is considered a safe percentage of income to invest in a mortgage).As a model, we'll say 5% is the reasonable limit. Now that may or may not be true, but we'll use it.Up to 5% of one's income can be spent on property taxes and still allow enough for the family to meet it's needs. Now this does not mean that we will always be spending 5%. Let's say today we pay 3% of our total income. As inflation goes up, our property increases in value, and our taxes go up. So in five years we pay 4% and in eight years we pay 5%. We've now reached the limit. We have given all that we can reasonably give and still maintain our property. If our income increases, then that 5% as well will represent more money for our government and schools. So long as we continue in the same house on the same land, that limit would never be passed. Also, if by our own poor planning we live outside our means and can no longer afford even the 5%, then the loss of our property becomes our own doing, or by loss of a job becomes employment's doing. In short, we would never be forced to leave our land by our own government and community.Now, how do we account for all the monetary needs of the land and schools if no one pays above 5%? Answer: taxes continue to increase on property. As you live in your home and it's value increases (whether due to inflation or your own hard work and construction) your property tax assessment goes up. You, of course, cap at 5%. In reality, the tax assessment is 8 or even 10% of your earnings. You don't have to pay it however, so long as you continue in your same home on the same land. If you choose to move, however, you open yourself up for new taxes. When you find a new home if the assessment is lower, then again maybe you pay only 4% and cap at 5% later. If you choose to move into a nicer home, however, and the taxes are 8% of your income, then that is your choice. You cap there at 8%, it won't go any higher, but then if it becomes too much for you, again it is your doing and not that of our government or communities or schools. Finally, those who move in to your home that you just sold must pay the tax assessment on the home (what was 8 or 10% of your income and you only paid 5%). In this way taxes continue to go up, the market stays alive, but those who choose to keep to their land and work away at it every day of their lives, bettering it and making it more valuable, are never threatened with expulsion by taxes they cannot afford. Our America should never do that to a person. Not when land was and always will be one of our greatest assets and properties and freedoms.Now I don't know that this answers all the problems. I don't know a lot, in fact, and I understand that there may be holes in this proposal, but that is why it is merely a proposal. It is there to make people think, and to think differently. I welcome and invite any criticism, additions, or otherwise. I thank you for your activism.

Declaration of Independence

I take this opportunity to be one of the first and the few to declare that my happiness in life stands independent of the choices of a few.America has great hope in the new administration to come--and why not? Barrack Obama is a young and an ambitious man. He seems to know how to motivate the people (at least to put up signs and go out to vote). His very station as President-Elect has done wonders for America's image around the world. He seems to be putting together an able bodied cabinet and working overtime on solutions to America's current woes. Yet America, and perhaps Obama himself, are placing their hope in the wrong places.Like the scape-goats of ancient Israel, who once a year symbollically took all of the nation's sins upon them and were sent off into the wilderness to die (thus absolving Israel of all err0r and wrong doing), every year around November America elects its scape-goats. But ancient Israel misunderstood and so does America. They could not, and we cannot, hope to absolve ourselves of the need for virtue and charity in our lives by blaming all of our nations follies and troubles on these scape-goats, sending them out before the people to roast, and then passing them off into oblivion to waste away. That never solved Israel's problems and it hasn't/won't solve America's. The success of America is not in changing the government, but in changing its people. Yes, admittedly the government and its choices add numerous woes to our lives, but none that we haven't allowed. Are you following? We complain about lawyers, but there wouldn't be so many, who knew so many ways to cheat the law, if there weren't so many of us willing to sue one another. And why do we sue one another? To place blame (essentially . . . let's not get nit-picky). Putting the blame elsewhere is easy, but all that gets us is more lawyers--more people to blame. So why not admit that a good majority of our fortune and success--and that of America--lays within our own hands--the hands of its people.I declare, again, that I want to take responsibility for the success of my life, and to do so I must be willing to take responsibility for the failings of my life. I do this because I believe in liberty and independence. We are not simply the rubbish left over after the actions of our government. It is to us as Americans to be the cause and left to the government to be the effect--not vice versa. How do we go about this? I don't know. I don't have all the answers, but I can see a good place to start and that is in every American, individually. Stand up and declare your independence. Decide that the American dream is as alive as we want it to be. If we'll work together. If we'll care. If we'll work harder at building up and less at tearing down. Our government will never be any better than its people, and it will seldom be worse. I believe in the capacity of everyone for good. I believe in the capacity of everyone to exceed in any field, chosen or otherwise. I believe that a great good will come out of America--greater than ever before--and I believe it will come about because of her people (if they can make the necessary adjustments). I believe, and declare my independence to be able to do so.

Definition of Adventure

I have no definition of adventure. Webster does. Webster and I rarely see eye to eye, and this term is no exception. I don’t know what I’d qualify as adventure. I know it when I see it.
I will declare that far too many see adventure as only that which makes a great story. Examples may be backpacking across Asia, whitewater rafting, attending a glamorous awards show, etc. I would say that all it takes for a great story is a great story teller. Even the greatest of adventures could be dulled by a dull speaker.
So is adventure that which makes your adrenaline race? Makes your heart rise up into your throat? Certainly not. Such things are called thrills and living for thrills is like living on drugs . . . you’ll always need more and in much more potent quantities. Adventure is no such thing. At least I think not. I think a true adventurer makes adventure out of any situation—and that doesn’t mean the ability to turn any situation into a life-threatening one.
Adventure is the journey. I have recently set a goal for myself of bowling a 200 this year. Is that exciting? Probably not to everyone. I guess it’s not really exciting to me. The journey to that 200 just might be however, and when I tell it, those listening may be heard to exclaim, “Man, this guy has quite the adventurous life!”
Though they may not.

Cereal Box Inspiration

I found this on the back of a box of imitation Cheerios . . . or maybe they were actual Cheerios--nope, Toasty-O’s. In any case, someone designed this display of the Seven Natural Wonders of North America. I’m quite sure that there are many more natural beauties than those which have been crudely modeled here, but this is a start. I’ve decided to keep this box and its little list. Consider it a to-do-list for adventure. I love the outdoors. I love America. So what better way to exemplify that than by visiting America’s natural outdoor wonders? And, needing to start somewhere, this list is more than adequate.
So keep your eyes, ears, and all other senses peeled, because you never know when inspiration will strike and you need to have a place ready for it when it comes.

He Could Use Some New Shoes

Preparation for every good adventure always begins with one thing: a good pair of shoes. Shoes is maybe the wrong word, because shoes just don’t really cut it. Unless every trip you plan to take is to the mall or the tennis court, you’ll need something a little more substantial than shoes. In fact I hold a little disdain for the term shoes because it seems so casual.
Before continuing, understand that I do own a pair of shoes. A pair. I use them for casual days at the park, for playing basketball, raquetball, or any of a number of sports. It happens that I will wear them to the mall, or shopping. But let it be known that my shoes are the exception to my footwear, and not the rule. I wear them when I want to pepper an otherwise normal day with a bit of casualness, a bit of ease. If you wear casual shoes the majority of the time, you are prepared to lead a casual life.
I intend adventure for myself and for my family. As part of my preparation for such a life I like to have footwear that will function in most instances. I think the real impulse to prefer such footwear came from my viewings of Indiana Jones movies. There he was, leading a fairly normal—but interesting—life, when suddenly he’d be sucked into a great adventure. I would think, as I watched him adventuring, “I bet he wished he had something on other than those trackless loafers he’s got.”
My first foray into the world of good footwear was to find something that could be worn to church, to work, or any other dressy sort of occasion, but that could also climb a mountain. Again, I was trouble shooting for Indiana Jones and this was the kind of footwear I thought he could have used while running from Nazis with machine guns. The shoe I found was made by GBX and it did all of those things. My first pair went to church with me, they went to job interviews with me, they went on a 30 mile mock pioneer trek with me, and they hiked to the top of an 11,000 ft. mountain . . . among other things. The one place they were really lacking was in the ability to perform sportier activities (I never was able to test them out against an army of Nazis and tanks).
So now I also own two pairs of cross-country boots. The treads are good and deep, but the material is supple enough to go running in. My boots are pictured herein and they are great. I’d recommend a pair to anyone. With either these sports boots, or my dress boots I am ready to proceed in a traditional manner to traditional activities, or if need be I can take off into the woods, or cross country, or cross borders chased by Nazis, and the durability and traction I need will always be there with me.
Give it a moment’s thought. Some people are concerned with excelling in sports. Others are concerned with experimenting in a lab. Still some love to focus on the arts. Not everyone is looking for adventure at each of life’s turns. I am. My great focus or experimenting or excelling will be with my life and the things an individual is capable of. That may require much traveling. It may not. But all the same I’d like to be prepared for either scenario and that begins with choosing the right footwear.

The Accidental Revolution

When Alexander Fleming stumbled upon penicillin he literally stumbled upon it. He had no idea what penicillin was and hence no way to have been looking for it. True, he had searched for anti-bacterial agents before, but as the story goes he was studying something entirely different at the time. He left for a vacation and, as his work place was not a portrait of cleanliness, several of the cultures he'd left out became infected while he was away. Again a series of further accidents saved a few of his cultures from being destroyed and he noticed the strange fungal growth in the dishes and their particular patterns. Thus was the discovery of penicillin. Entirely an accident, yet not entirely--Fleming was a trained scientist who had studied anti-bacterial agents before. He had the learning necessary to recognize the breakthrough when it finally occured (even though he was really looking in an entirely different direction at the time).
Another scientist, Louis Pasteur, put it perfectly for all of us when he said that "chance favors the prepared mind."
You can't plan for revolutions, but you can be prepared for them. And revolutions come in all shapes and sizes. They can be the revolutions in a particular field of study, revolutions in politics and nations, or even revolutions in the way we live our lives from day to day. All revolutions are accidental, but they all happen because someone was prepared for the unexpected. I submit that the only pure adventure that occurs in life are the revolutionary ones; the moments that you can't chart, but that you can be prepared for.
About 5 or 6 years ago I found myself a volunteer missionary for my church in France. More specifically I was in France, just north of Paris, in a town called Compiegne. It's a lovely little town, but lovelier still was an even smaller town not too far away called Pierrefonds. It was small and quaint, cradled gently in the lap of a few hills and blanketed by trees. The houses were all those of typical french fancy and rising up out of it all was the most magnificent castle I'd ever set my eyes upon (and let me tell you, in France it's easy to set your eyes upon a lot of castles).
For weeks we had planned a trip up to the castle. We cleared our schedules, saved some allotted miles on our car, and on the assigned day we headed up there. We enjoyed walking the streets of such a nice little town, enjoyed the clean air and vibrant trees. We skirted the banks of a small lake and then finally began our hike up to the castle. That was all planned for. It was beautiful and entirely worth a mention even if nothing more had occured, but two of us were prepared, and what otherwise would have been a standard tourist's visit was revolutionized into a once in a lifetime opportunity.
We spent some time taking photos around the periphery and walked the courtyard a little bit just to say we did. For about 4 euros you could tour the inside, but I'd been told it wasn't that impressive and so intended to save my money (a missionaries allowance is not so grandiose you know). Fortunately everyone else wanted to go through, so I pried open my wallet and the gate agent pried the 4 euros out of my hand. About 20 minutes later myself and one other missionary exited feeling cheated out of at least 3 euros each. Everyone else remained inside enjoying the bare walls and talking about how much they weren't seeing.
Meanwhile the two of us were headed for the exit when the gate agent called out to us. "You know the chapel is open for you to visit. It's usually not, but it's available this week if you guys want to go inside." Now, this was all said in French and so naturally was much more eloquent and beautifully worded, but you get the point. Feeling like we could perhaps earn at least another of our spent euros we headed for the chapel. It was at the back of the courtyard and not really accesible by any other part of the castle other than the chapel doors, so in we walked. I'd say it was probably worth about 15 centimes--definately not an euro. We were out of luck again. While we were there though, and still waiting for the others, we figured we might as well walk around. We saw some tourists up on a balcony above us, so we looked for a door, found one, and headed up. After that balcony there was another door and more stairs. At the top we found another balcony and another door. In retrospect there must have been two doors up there and we chose the wrong one because the next thing we knew we had passed through a couple confusing hallways, several doors, and were now on the outside of the castle looking down over Pierrefonds. Whoops.
I admit that our impulse was unadventurous . . . we wanted to get back to where we came from, understanding that this was most likely not where we were supposed to be. Fortunately for us and this story, we failed to successfully navigate the hallways and doorways we'd just come through. We tried to go back but ended up more lost than before and now further down the castle looking out again. It was at that point that our carelessness/adventurous impulses kicked in and we decided, "Hey, let's enjoy this, I see a tower right up there, let's get up as high as we can go."
Up we went. We found some stairs, climbed and were atop one of the round stumpy towers looking out over that gorgeous little town--and it had never looked better. Amidst my romantic viewing my friend tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the next tower over. It had a chimney atop it with a ladder and, since we had intended to go as high as possible, we should probably head over there. So we climbed back down, ducked through some more doorways and hallways, and finally ended up on top of a hundreds-of-years old chimney. From there we could see, a ways down, a tower like ours with another tower on top of it. That definately beat our chimney stack, so back down we went. Through doorways, down hallways, all around that castle. At this point we were very careful to make sure no one saw us as we assumed we probably weren't supposed to be there where we found ourselves. We tried to claim innocence and that we were lost, but at one point on our search for the highest tower we went down a stairway that took us right back into the touring area. There being no one in that particular room to spy us out, we headed back up. At another point we heard voices coming up stairs from beneath us, so we climbed higher and hid behind an old wooden door in a tower loft. As the voices passed we headed back out and finally made it to the top of that double tower. Now we could see everything, including the highest tower on the castle. There was no going back now, our appetites were whetted and we needed to lay claim to that highest of towers. So down and around we went. In and out and around doors, halls and obstacles. The last stretch was across a little walkway that ran the face of the castle where all the tourists parked and took pictures. We almost had to crawl to be sure no one could see us and I've still always wondered if someone got their pictures back wondering what that was up on the castle that looked like a young boy.
In any case we were never found out and we crossed the walk without incidence. The final ascent was the worst of them all. The tower was much much skinnier than the others and there was no railing to the stairs, nor centerpiece--just a hole stretching back down to the bottom of the tower laughing menacingly at us. What made it worse was that some of the stone stairs were so worn that they had holes in them. We made sure to step around the edges where they seemed thickest and to do anything but look down a few times.
There was something unequaled by standing on top of that tower. We knew that we were standing where few had stood since Napoleon built the castle, and that there would be few after us who ever got there. It was a humbling moment. It took us a while to soak it all in, but the first thought to take us away from that moment was "How are we going to get down?"
The answer ended up being simpler than we thought. We ran into some guys cleaning up bird poop (they're the ones who had accidentally left the door open we first wandered through) and told them we were lost. They took us down one of the towers and let us out the door. No questions asked, simple as that.
So that's my story. I'm all for preserving historic landmarks for all to enjoy, but I'm also for taking the opportunities as they arise to enjoy something out of the ordinary. An adventure.
So again, preparation is the key to everything. Chance favors the prepared mind. Plan out your days, activities, vacations, etc., but be sure you're open and ready for those moments when they arrive, because the best ones will always be the ones you don't plan for.
Below I've included some photos for those of you interested in seeing the castle, the tower, the stairs, and the view.

My Greatest Adventure

My heart goes out to, and breaks for, all those who have not been married whether by incident or choice. I think the break is harsher for those who choose not to embark on life's greatest adventure. They have no argument to stand with. Marriage to a person with whom you can work and struggle through every trial and joy in life is the greatest treasure there is to unearth. So here is a photo of me and my greatest adventure. Her name is Lindsay. She is my Lady.

Yes, we have climbed mountains together. We've backpacked through the woods. We've travelled across the country three times. We've explored ocean beaches. We've attended museums. We've built a home. And we've also enjoyed many of our own individual adventures. We indeed have it all.

I just want everyone know that there is never a dull moment when you lay claim to a family of your own. Like those great explorers of olden time who would discover new lands and claim them for their homeland, we too have the opportunity to bring the only new exploration into the world when we begin our own family and create a structure that truly wasn't there before. It is the undiscovered country. If you want to be daring, if you want to be adventurous, if you want to show true courage (and not the misdiagnosed 'courage' of extreme sports) then the only way to do that is to put yourself whole heart and future into the hands of someone else and in exchange take theirs into your hands.

The narrow sighted and sharp-tongued may disagree, but I welcome a chance to talk to any who would. I don't criticize any who would choose to walk a different path from my own--for every path is of necessity different--but there are certain supplies or companions that will make the walk down every path brighter, and that's all I wish to add.

I am not an island (though I've explored my fair share if anyone wants to hear about it). I love and need my family. I am grateful for them and even more grateful to a God who has promised eternal life with those we love. Just think of it, an eternity of moments like that picture above. Pure. Full. Joyous. And, of course, adventurous.

The Academy Awards are Lost

I wish I could bring myself to watch the Academy Awards. Unfortunately, just as I became disillusioned to the bearded fat man who brought me my Christmas presents, I’ve also become disillusioned to the [bearded] [fat] men [and women] who bring me my list of honorable films each year. I don’t know them personally, but personally I could teach them a few things about merit.
Year after year my perception of the Academy Awards becomes more and more like my perception of The X-Files or Lost--a convoluted mess of decisions that no one agrees with or understands (and everyone wishes all three would have called it quits years earlier). In fact, the only difference between the three is that the results of the Academy Awards leave me feeling more confused and upset.
This year I believe I speak for everyone when I cry, “Where the heck is The Dark Knight!?”
It isn’t necessary to divulge the reasons for which The Dark Knight is deserving of Best Picture (or at least the nomination!), but its absence is a perfect example of the prejudiced traditions of those who make up the Academy. Specifically, I’m talking about the fact that The Dark Knight is tied for third in number of nominations this year, yet finds itself absent from the nominations for Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, Best Actor, and Best Picture. The three other films are nominated for all four of these awards.
I can’t be the only one who finds it odd that The Dark Knight accidentally excelled in all of its nominated fields. I say accidentally because obviously the Academy didn’t think Christopher Nolan had anything to do with the excellence, otherwise how could they have left him off the list of Best Directors? What were the other directors nominated for?
It was in 1999 that my eyes were first opened to this irrational behavior from the Academy. American Beauty had won Best Picture and it followed with four other wins. The Matrix, lacking nominations in any of the four ‘prestigious’ categories, rounded up four other awards to make it second only to American Beauty that year. Then last year, No Country For Old Men won Best Picture and three other awards, while The Bourne Ultimatum rounded up all three awards it was nominated for (again none of which were ‘prestigious’). Is it possible that most films are either well acted and written, or well achieved technically--never the twain shall meet? What exactly is an awards ceremony worth that awards films that are only half-baked?
Other recent anomalies included Spielberg’s directing win for Saving Private Ryan while Best Picture went to Shakespeare in Love. Russell Crowe won for Gladiator after being snuffed the year before for his far superior performance in The Insider. Martin Scorcese recently won for The Departed which most will agree was among the least deserving of his pictures (he should have won in 2004 for The Aviator, but the award went to Clint Eastwood because the Academy just seems to love the guy).
How exactly does a film get nominated for Best Picture without its director (this happens all too often)? And how does a film achieve such technical nominations without its director? Or without the rest of the film? What’s being rewarded?
Let’s just say it--the Academy didn’t give the nominations to The Dark Knight because it was a comic book movie. It didn’t give the nominations to The Matrix because it was a sci-fi/action film. It didn’t give the award to Scorcese for The Aviator because Clint Eastwood was there (to apologize it gave him the award the next time around even with Clint there). “If you’re a sci-fi/comic book movie, it’s okay for you to receive the technical nominations,” sounds a little like “If you’re black it’s okay for you to ride in the back of the bus.” In a year when others grew out of ridiculous traditions and rose to the stature necessary to elect a black president, I’d hoped we’d see the close minded traditions of the Academy set aside, but it wasn’t to be. Apparently the only films worth mentioning each year are the ones that don’t carry our imaginations too far from reality--and, of course, they’ve been handled by Clint Eastwood.
I sure wish I could bring myself to watch the Academy Awards, but I’ve got some episodes of Lost to catch up with, and I think I’ll be able to follow them better.

The Trials of Young Werther

This is the last film whose creative process I was a part of. A little more impressive than Snap in its quick creation, I made this film in only about 3 hours from beginning to end with a crew of only two. There was myself and then there was Tracy. If you look closely you can see the light meter on his hip in some of the scenes. This was all shot on film as an experiment. We wanted to see if we could shoot a film linearly that would come back ready to show--without any editing. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the intricacies of film, that is crazy. Tracy kept telling me I was crazy, but it worked. I started to doubt myself, but I didn't have any choice after I'd started. I was blown away though, and so was the rest of my class, when it came back working. Since then it has seen some minor editing to make it flow better, but if any one is interested I guess some time I could post the original so you can see how it all threw down.