Doug Van Pelt

California

Don and Paul make their trek out of Nevada and into California, halfway starving (at least according to their hunger pains). They decide they've had enough of beans and rice, so they go into a grocery store. It's funny how Don pushes Paul, filling the cart with stuff and asking him to shoplift some jelly. It seems like he's trying to make his friend uncomfortable just for fun. When they pull into a gas station, they find that they have a rather large gasoline leak. Time for another repair saga.

I remember hating trips like that, where the fear of whether or not my vehicle would make it to the destination would consume me.

Well, I've finally proofed all the pages for the Jan/Feb issue of HM. I imagine I'll have a printed copy in my hand sometime next week. I'm guessing Wednesday. Today is a big day. I have interviews with Spock's Beard and 36 Crazyfists. Later I go to the airport in Austin to pick up John J. Thompson, our hard-working marketing/advertising director. I hope he has a nice trip. There's been a cold front that's moved in and made it almost freezing around here. As a resident of the Chicago area, it'll probably make him feel right at home. We're going to meet and strategize for the coming year. I hope he's got some cool plans for us, as the changes he's made in 2006 (like adding the podcast) have been huge.

About 40-50 Readers' Poll and Readers' Survey ballots have come in. We like to have around 300 of those suckers, so we get a nice, balanced segment or "sample," as a Statistician might say.

Our Canadian intern, Dougie G, has been sick, so we wish him well, recovering from the flu or something. Those aliens are always bringing some type of virus into the country. Never mind that's he's been here over a year, this is obviously a secret, insidious virus that he's kept under the skin of his hand for that time, engaging the magic accelerator switch in his hand to start the bug now. We hope he gets well soon.

I've added quite a few "team members" to the crew at Heaven's Metal, which should help that publication keep a steady flow of articles, reviews, and such. Pastor Bob headed up an "International Report," which he turned in yesterday. I'm excited about that, as we have a report from Mexico, Denmark, and Lebanon.

Lots to do.

I experience a little miracle with every issue of HM. One of the things is I ask God to give me a specific Scripture for the masthead on page 10. I'll usually pray about it, believing that He'll speak to me and give me a specific verse or verses to use. I've never heard an audible voice, but a thought will appear in my head. Much the same kind of thought that pops into mind when you realize, 'Oh, I better mow the lawn today!' Or 'Pick up your pace, so you can open the door for these ladies.' ...Just an impromptu, fresh thought. I believe I've "heard God" in this manner many, many times. I've tested this theory a lot, too, because it's a scary and sobering thought to "pretend you're hearing God" or be decieved by the brain. That would not be cool.

Back in my University of Texas school days, I would perceive a thought that sounded like a command: 'Go tell that person that I love them.' I asked myself: 'Is this my mind? If it is, I don't want to do this. I might get rejected or laughed at by this person. Is it the devil? I doubt he'd want me to tell someone that God loves them.' I figured, 'Well, it's probably God.' Many times an unusual encounter or conversation would take place; something I never expected, like having an open conversation with someone.

I also noticed that, when I was "obedient" to these thoughts, the "reception" would come in clearer, if that makes sense. This is the kind of stuff that's probably best held close and not shared in a worldwide public forum (like the www)**, but I'll risk it for the chance that it might encourage or help someone. Who knows? Telling someone that you "hear God" is borderline insane. In a left-wing fascist state it could get you institutionalized. Imagine if I had said this in the Soviet Union (with the hypothetical idea that it still existed in today's "Google anything" world). No doubt I would lose my factory job and probably be thrown in prison. "He's crazy. There is no god. He thinks he hears one. It's better for everyone if we lock him up." I bet that would be the tendency in such a state.

So anyway, I asked God for a Scripture for the new issue (the March/April issue with the Anberlin cover story), and I immediately had the thought: '2 Peter 1:3...through 5.' I was anxious to see what it would say. I was hoping it wouldn't be the middle of some geneology or some irrelevant to the context passage. That would kind of blow my theory or be an example of "missing God," at least in my opinion. On the contrary, this verse seems to make perfect sense -- a timely word for the present:

"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him Who called us by His own glory and goodness. Through these He has given us His very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world cause by evil desires. For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge..."

That was kind of my little miracle that happened yesterday.

There have been other times where I've delegated this opportunity/responsibility to others (employees, interns, and a family member or two). It's been cool to see the same "wow, that's a perfect verse for this issue" impact. I like that.

**It's funny, but what's posted on the web stays there. A good rule of thumb is: "If you don't want everyone in the world to read it, don't post it." This is especially important to remember on message boards, where you might get mad at a post and go off on someone or name names in a disagreement. It doesn't take too long for something juicy like that to spread and come around and bite you in the rear. Just ask a band member who's gone off on a message board... Someone could pull this post up in 10 years, using a search engine and typing in the phrase "hearing God" or something like that. It makes you think before posting.

P.S. A big, friendly welcome to our Jehovah's Witness members who read yesterday's blog. I hope that, perhaps, something at hmmag.com might be a help to you. I imagine this was a result of a search engine query for those two words (JW).
:?)

Satan's work is done...

...at least that's what Iron Maiden tells me ("The Number of the Beast").

Jehovah's Witnesses just left my door. They came all the way out to the HM Ranch to give me a copy of their Awake periodical, which had the headline "The End Of False Religions." That is interesting. I gave the two ladies a copy of the Nov/Dec issue of HM Magazine. I find that some false religious groups will actually take literature from you if it's something you published yourself (otherwise, they usually politely refuse anything). Being an editor/publisher has its perks...

I have regrets. I kinda wish I would have invited them in for a fresh cup of coffee or a glass of water. I had just brewed some coffee (2 cups) and saw them leaving through the window as I poured creamer into my mug. Perhaps we could have engaged in a "spiritual conversation." I would've liked that. I am busy, though. They seemed interested in the magazine, though I doubt our musical styles was their cup of tea.

I received some books by 33 1/3 | Continuum Books. They're new installments in their ongoing series. I got volumes 34-38, which include a look at Nirvana's In Utero album and Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited. Books like this are usually real interesting, because they dissect an important, seminal album and usually interview the artists, producers, and other people that actually worked on the projects. Sometimes everything from how songs were written, recorded or even the album artwork has unique and fascinating stories behind it. I wonder if I'll learn anything about the enigmatic recorder (don't call him a "producer") Steve Albini when I read In Utero by Gillian G. Gaar.

I'm multi-tasking today. I'm reading emails, assigning stories, and previewing unsigned band CDs, all the while listening and ocassionally watching a DVD about Hunter S. Thompson. Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride is a documentary about the world-renowned "Gonzo" journalist. I hear that The Kern County Kid met him once. I hear rumors about this kid, which always circle the writer like a vulture overhead -- rumors that say he was mentored by Hunter back in the early 80s. I doubt it, just like I doubt the rumor that he ran with the Manson clan back in the day... I'm sure he models his writing style after the guy, though.

Somehow it seems fitting to learn more about Hunter S. Thompson as we're going through the Through Painted Deserts book by Donald Miller, who happens to be trekking across the Nevada Desert at this point in the tome.

It's kinda funny how some of these characters can live their lives in excess, but talk about profound truths, such as sin and redemption from time to time. I'm talking about Hunter S. Thompson now, not Don and Paul. Perhaps those that dive headfirst into sin can somehow understand their need for a savior. Thompson killed himself in 2005, which leads me to believe that his chances of embracing the Person of Jesus and walking with Him, learning and following His ways -- I doubt someone would kill themselves if they found that treasure. Who knows?

Maybe we'll be surprised in Heaven to see a lot of characters that we figured would never "make it." People like: Kineson, Dahmer, Presley, Kennedy. Wouldn't it be ironic if the Buddha had a revelation prior to his death that there actually was a god -- a personal Father that one could know -- and who in their right mind would reject such a Person if he/she had revelation knowledge like that? Most of us are rarely around people in their last moments. It's probably a sacred time. It's certainly mysterious and gives reason for sober thought and consideration.

How might we live our days?

Fantasy Football

Last night my kicker, Josh Brown of the Seattle Seahawks, won my matchup for this week. A kicker!? Go figure.

The Hope Of Vegas

I have a dear friend named Joey. He used to drum for a weird-looking metal band in the 80s called Stryken. They were first called Stryker, but when Stryper blew up, they knew that -- even though they had the name with a "y" in it first -- they should take the "high road" and change their name to Stryken. Joey had a lot of fun entering radio contests. He would sing Bon Jovi songs and other such silliness over the air to win prizes. He called me up one day and asked me if I'd like to go to Vegas with him. He won airfare, hotels, and tickets for two to see Motley Crue and Faster Pussycat. Even though I was not a fan of either band (though Dr Feelgood was a solid album), I couldn't pass up a trip to Vegas. Besides, at this stage in my career, I think I was "doing" Heaven's Metal Magazine full-time and I had the luxury of going on an impromptu trip any old time I felt like... I wasn't making much money back then. My salary was a whopping $400 a month, all of which was pretty much spent on expenses. I took along $35 to have a good time in Vegas with my friend. We were stoked to eat $2.95 steaks at various casinos who advertised "loss leaders" like food to get you into their establishment to spend money on gambling. I tried my luck at the roulette wheel. At first I bet on red or black, then 1-12 or 24-36. Then I decided to place a dollar bet on a number. I think it was 33 and wham! I won. The odds where 1 in 36 to get a single number, so I just won $36. They placed a little crystal pyramid thing on top of the number to show everyone which number won or take a security picture or something. Being the Vegas novice that I was, I thought maybe I needed to take the winning crystal to a cash booth to get my money, so I leaned over the table and picked it up. The dealer gave me a look like he wanted to end my life, and immediately two security guards came out of nowhere to approach me. "You don't touch that!" I was told, and I quickly took my hands off it. That was weird. I left the table and played maybe one or two games of blackjack and one or two slot machines, keeping my winnings that paid for my whole trip. I didn't want to get in the trap of losing and trying to win back my losses, which could be an endless spiral into brokesville.

So, Donald Miller devotes the title of the fifteenth chapter to "Vegas." I think, 'This is going to be an interesting story.' It was, in its own way, because they went into a junk yard looking for a tiny part for their old VW van. They pay a dollar to go in and just look, but they are told that the two VW vans are gutted. They look in disbelief at the shells of two vans that have indeed been gutted. Don believes he could bench press the shell, it looked so light. They almost left, but decided to check anyway. And they actually both found the linkage connection piece they were looking for. They borrowed some tools to remove it and the guy at the junkyard shrugged and didn't even charge them for the small piece. This was a big event for two guys that had to drive 100-plus miles at 35 miles and hour (in second gear) to reach Vegas. They were flirting with being stranded in the desert with little to no money. It was like a major breakthrough and something to praise God over and be quite happy.

But it doesn't make for a very exciting Vegas story, does it?

One thing about this life that I do enjoy is taking joy in some of the simple things. Taking time out to thank God over problems solved and wonderful gifts, like a sunset or a "moment" with my family. Those are cool things that could just as easily be taken for granted and not paused over. While I don't find myself praying over finding a parking space close to the mall,** I do like to make whatever I'm going through a matter of "hanging out with God" type prayer. I don't always live this way, but I sure enjoy it when I remember to act like this.

**I probably never will pray for a parking place close to a mall entrance, thanks to the disgust of an old friend of mine named Robin. She was with some girls on a trip to Highland Mall and these Christians didn't want to walk far and the mall parking lot was crowded, so they prayed for a spot. My friend rolled her eyes when telling this story, as if to say, "See how superficial and materialistic these girls are?" While their attitudes towards materialistic things might have been out of skew (you think?), and maybe they could use some perspective on how people are infinitely more important than "things," they were also just inviting God and asking Him about something they were anxious about. The Bible does say to "be anxious for nothing..." and to "make your requests known to God..." so these girls were being obedient to that.

As they matured in life and in their faith, hopefully these girls would be less and less anxious about convenience and shopping and more anxious about people and their physical and spiritual health. They probably shouldn't be rebuked over praying for a parking space, but for possibly being more consumed with themselves than someone else. At times like that, it can be rewarding to give someone else (someone you beat to a choice spot) that friendly wave, telling them, "You take it. Merry Christmas!"

But still, maybe this chapter should've been called "Junkyard Miracle" or "The Odds Against Us," instead of an inticing title like "Vegas." Oh well...

Who Cares About Don Miller, Anyway?

I do, for one. I love his writing, and what I love the most is how he's so religious. I also love how irreligious he is, willing to talk straight at a subject without watering it down for a prudish person who might get offended by anything outside of his/her culture.

But first, let's talk about Kiss. I recently bought Kissology, a DVD that chronicles their early years, from 1974 to their catapult to the bigtime by 1977. Some of the early stuff is embarrassing, but then so is the music from their first three albums. An appearance on the Mike Douglas show has Gene Simmons walking onto a set with his Alive era costume on, acting about as obtuse and offensive as he could in the mixed crowd on stage. It's funny to see this stuff. It's certainly understandable how/why they'd make such appearances, because Kiss was always about making it big-time. "I am evil incarnate," Gene almost mutters, as if a school kid almost daring enough to be bad and bold in front of his elders.

Most of Kiss' material is very elementary, kind of like how The Ramones boil down their take on pop, punk, and rock in its simplest terms and choruses. Kiss was a tad slow, even for their contemporaries, tempo-wise. Very slow and chunky rhythms with almost bebop stylings. "Let Me Go Rock and Roll" could've been a standard from the Bill Haley & The Comets era. The lyrics were a hoot, too.

"She's a dancer, a romancer / I'm a Capricorn and she's a Cancer /
She saw my picture in a music magazine /
When she met me, said she'd get me / Touched her hips and told me that she'd let me..."

Real deep and real hard to understand, huh? This simplicity and this angle were pretty much all that Kiss was about. This song is one of my favorites from their super simple first three albums, because of its melodic hook. While "Black Diamond" and "!00,000 Years" from the first album had some hooks, as did the title track from Hotter Than Hell, it wasn't until the breakthrough studio album Destroyer that they seemed to figure out what worked best. To their credit, they had some of the heavy, moving riffs down, as expressed in "She," "Rock Bottom" and "Parasite" and "Deuce."

Their skyrocket to fame, which included lunchboxes, Halloween costumes, action figures and Hot Wheels cars, was a phenomenon likened unto Star Wars. I was certainly a fan in the Destroyer, Rock And Roll Over, Love Gun, and Alive II era. That was some fun stuff for a 12, 13, and 14 year old. Turns out it was the band's creative apex. I'll never forget "cruising" the streets of Beloit, Kansas (yes, just like the 50s a la American Graffiti) and hearing "Christine Sixteen" on the radio for the first time. "Is that a new Kiss song?" I thought out loud. It had their unmistakable sound. I'm not sure how many units that sold, but it was surely their best-selling studio album since that time (unless their disco song, "I Was Made For Lovin' You" from a later album, Dynasty, sold more to the John Travolta's of the world).

I remember feeling like I'd graduated into quality musical tastes when I kind of left Kiss behind and started listening more to Aerosmith, Queen, Led Zeppelin, Judas Priest and other 70s hard rock heavyweights.

If Don Miller and his friend Paul were to blast some music and play air guitar at the top of the Grand Canyon, I'm sure it wouldn't be Kiss, but it'd be a funny sight to see them banging their heads and prancing around like Paul Stanley, shouting: "I wanna rock and roll all nite, and party every day."

How's that for a sylicone smooth transition? I'll take WD-40 as a consolation answer.

"Miracles" is the title of chapter 14, and it begins with a conversation about snake bites. Then they break down. I guess there is a positive spin that can be applied to driving an untrustworthy old vehicle across the country, but what I remember about driving such a vehicle is stress. I was so concerned about making it to my destination that "enjoying the moment" was pushed aside. It's funny to be able to look back at setbacks, but at the time they are no fun.

Don upsets Paul with his attitude at first, being kind of light about the situation. When Paul goes from angry to mad, Don tries to sing him a song about when he lived in an orphanage. Paul tries to keep from smiling as Don belts out the song from Annie: "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow, you're always a day away." Paul pats him on the head like a dog when he finishes prematurely due to not knowing the rest of the lyrics.

It turns into an interesting story that involves a scruffy man in a station wagon with family that stops to help them in the middle of nowhere (in the desert). They use a coathanger to repair the shifting rod connection to the transmission. They are told to drive into Vegas in second gear from there. What fun.

The best part of that story is that they made it out and they can now look back on it. That's the best part of problems. I remember praying to the Lord not too long ago about some troubling problems I was having, just thanking God and asking Him to give me the strength to make it to "the other side" of this problem.

Dogs Are Great

Biscuit has a great time here at the office. I bring him here two days a week. Today on the way in I noticed a calf up ahead that was grazing outside the fence, so I slowed down and stopped. I let Biscuit get out and fulfill his destiny as a Shetland Sheepdog. He chased that frightened calf right back into his pen. When we arrive at the ranch sometimes I'll throw a tennis ball for him to fetch. We both love that.

I've been enjoying Through Painted Deserts by Don Miller. So far it's not nearly as good as Blue Like Jazz or Searching For God Knows What, but who knows what may lie ahead?

In this chapter ("Reward") Don and Paul are hiking the last bit (six hours) out of the canyon. Don feigns a desire to write in his journal and encourages Paul to hike on ahead of him. The real reason is so he won't slow Paul down and have Paul looking back at him as he struggles up the hill, as he figures he'll be a pathetic sight or something.

Don does start to journal, though, writing down some thoughts that are small details of the trip, things that went into this book. And then he writes a few paragraphs to himself, for himself to read twenty years later. It's an interesting thought, how he encourages his future self not to fret about materialism or whether or not he can buy his family a nice car. He tells himself to just go in and kiss his kids on the forehead. That's beautiful.

Having seen pictures of Don and reading his description of his struggles with this hike, describing himself as out of shape, one begins to feel sorry for him a little bit and a little bit of anger and shame at the people who ignore him, pity him, or treat him like a non-beautiful person. That's a drag. One of the things Paul and Don talk about on the morning of their last day in the canyon is how much they want a bowl of cereal. Paul tries to wax philosophical and states that most men want houses and money and this and that, but they would kill for just a bowl of cereal. Their perspective has changed, he says. Don retorts with: "And a boat. I want to eat my cereal on a boat." It's a funny barb thrown in.

When Don finally makes it to the top, Paul is waiting there with a smile on his face. Then he offers him something he picked up at the store. It's a tin cup of cereal. Don writes of his reaction:

"My smile is so big that tourists notice. I think there may even be a little moisture in my eyes. I don't know if I have felt this much joy in ten years."

I love that. To me, that is loving extravagantly -- finding something meaningful to someone and giving them that. Those are moments I cherish. That's why some of these shows -- where they buy an old school teacher a house she's never been able to afford or some such dream fulfillment kind of thing -- are popular. They give us a glimpse of someone making someone else's dream come true. That's rich.

Bright Angel

Don and Paul continue their journey. This time, I guess, they are headed back up out of the Grand Canyon. Lots of pain described: calf pain, thigh pain, back pain, hunger pain. It's funny to watch/listen to two guys gripe about their aches and pains.

Enough about Don and Paul, let's talk about me!
haha

I have to plan the next issue of HM now. Wanna know who's going to be on the cover of the March/April issue? I think (no promises) it's going to be Anberlin. They have a new one coming out about then, and they are a great band. I have to figure out the other articles and album reviews, etc. I've already got more than 8 DVD reviews to choose from, more than 6 gadget/specialty dvds/computer games to review, so the "Play" section should be covered. I have to choose a "Classic Moments" for that new segment.

I'm having trouble starting my riding lawn mower. It's fairly new (bought it May 31), and I shouldn't be having this much problem with it. I've recharged the battery twice now. I brought some jumper cables with me, so I might even try to jump start the thing later on today.

I have some other life goals that I'm going to set out on, too. I want to lose some weight (about 40 pounds eventually), so I'm trying to get a handle on an exercise habit and then incorporate a diet (a lower calorie intake) and smaller portions at mealtimes habit. I also want to improve my family life. Since that involves relationships and is not a "project" like building a bird house, it's a little trickier to plan for. I'm going to start by asking myself, 'What would I appreciate or want if I were in their shoes?' Hopefully, that will steer me in the right direction.

"Lord, please guide us and help us improve our lives and the lives of those around us. Amen."

Phantom Ranch

Paul and Don have made it to the first night's camping site, called Phantom Ranch. Don was so tired and ache-y. It's funny to read his description of how stiff and tired he was. It's easy to empathize with his muscles and the desire to do nothing but lay still until the stiff muscles get rejuvinated. It's also funny to see the descriptions of other hikers and campers -- people better equipped for the task. You see all kinds of people in places like that.

I can related to Don's amusing thoughts, as I enjoy "people watching," too. Just sitting or standing somewhere and observing can bring several amusing sights to behold. Some people seem to tell a story by how they look, what they're wearing, what expressions they hold on their face.

While I am not a proponent of the "Christians must be happy and always smiling" philosophy, I do think it's important to be cognizant of how I'm feeling and how I look, behave, and talk might influence someone else. There's no reason to drag someone else into my bad mood. If someone asks, "How are you?" then I might tell them. Sometimes it's funny to be sarcastic and use cliches, like when someone says, "Good morning!" Answering back with "What's so good about it?" But only to start a laugh.

Don and Paul get up early to make a half-days hike down into the canyon, where they might arrive at noon. "This'll give us time to get a good hike in once we get there," Paul says. Don wasn't into the idea.

xxx NOVEL WATCH:

The Jan/Feb issue is now out of my hands and in my printer's. Today I'll actually start working on the March/April issue. This morning, after picking my wife up from the car dealer (for a warranty repair) and prior to my (Lord willing, last) visit to the chiropracter, I went to the local coffee shop in Hutto and sat down with the novel I'm writing. While I have been leary of letting this project get pushed aside forever, it's been since last December since I worked on it. I have been trying to pick it up and work on it "after the next deadline is over" for six or more deadlines. And there's always a reason not to or other work to be done. I told myself, 'I'll get going on it again this week, so it won't have been a full year since I touched it last.' I've had some issues with my notebook computer. Besides dropping it when my dog was a puppie (and he was running out of our room to possibly poop somewhere), which is how the disc drive tray was snapped in two; I have had an issue with my word processor on that computer. Because of a printer spool error/glitch that should've been under warranty with my freshly-purchased version of MicroSoft Office 2003, I was told that I'd need to run the Security Patch 2 on this computer. This is kinda hard for me, since it doesn't have a cd rom drive anymore, basically. What happens is MicroSoft Word will close on me ... unless I'm at home where the wireless network will be able to locate the printer. When I'm at another location and it can't find the printer, it shuts down with a fatal error. This makes it hard to write a novel -- especially in the comfort of a quiet coffee shop.

I also noticed that it was really last September that I actively wrote some lengthy chapters. I only put some anecdotes on there in December. It's kind of a mess with this notebook/Word situation, so my book is now saved in multiple versions, with a date part of the filename of the most recent/up-to-date version. With all this going on, I realized today that my dream of getting this novel published has been closer to dying than I ever thought. That kinda makes me mad. I really want to finish this thing and I have kind of a jealous mother relationship with it. I'm frustrated at my busy schedule that keeps getting in its way, and I refuse to be "wanna-be" or a "good intentioned failure" when it comes to this project and goal. In the big picture, it's in the Lord's hands and He can do anything He wants with it; but in the smaller perspective of my responsibility, I choose to fight for what's right. The issue of this being a God-given dream and activity has already been answered in my heart and mind, although God can certainly bring change into our lives in spite of previous precedents or goals. The prayer of Jesus -- "not my will, but thine be done" is an ongoing principle that will never leave our side.

But in this life, if we are building a house or coaching a team or leading a battalion in battle, there are times when you fight and press on through. You don't look at every little obstacle and say, "Oh, I guess it's not the Lord's will that we do this today." That's insane.

Hard work and pressing on is not easy, though. Lord willing, I'll get this done before six months go by...

The Whales Are Dying Now...

"...they're hurling themselves on the beach..."

On the way to work today I called up Paul Q-Pek. I got his voicemail, which might've made this little prank even better. Once my voicemail started to record, I quoted the lines from the brilliant Steve Scott song, "This Sad Music." It's a spoken word thing that this poet / singer released on an album called Love In The Western World. So fun.

I woke up late this morning (being an editor has its perks) after working 'til 3 am on deadline, and was able to catch a short segment on Regis & Kelly as I got dressed. This girl wanted to give her mom an "Ambush Makeover," because her mom took care of her and showed her so much unconditional love. So the camera crew snuck up on her as the daughter was coaxing her out for a hospital visit (the daughter has cystic phibrosis) and they surprised her with the news. I imagine that a woman likes to feel pampered, get a pretty dress, and have "beauty work" done on her. I can sort of understand that. What was so touching is how she responded with such shock and gratitude. Her daughter really made her feel special with that. And when they had her on the show's stage, she looked stunning in a beautiful dress, new haircut, makeup, teeth brightening -- the whole nine yards.

Uh oh! My deadline clock just went off. Alright, I can get back to work now. It's set for January 19, which is 62 days, 23 hours, 58 minutes and 57 seconds away.

Anyway, this woman beamed from the stage. The act of her daughter, who wanted to say thanks for all the sacrificial care over the years, was great. It's really neat to be able to love extravagantly like that. The tv show wanted to flash the "before" picture again to show the dramatic change, and I just hoped that this didn't go too far and make her feel superficial. I hope that people affirmed how beautiful she was, period, when they were making her over. Her beauty was one of inner love, a strength that is contagious to those around her, I'm sure. I hope all the outward fuss was just fun and appreciated in its rightful place. That's nice and I bet it can do wonders for someone's self-esteem, but I hope it didn't backfire for her.

Well, it's back to making the proofreading corrections and then making each page of the magazine a PDF file, and sending those to the printer. I have a scoreboard (marker board) in my office lobby (it's the living room of a 5-bedroom house that serves as our office), and it says: "Deadline 01 vs. DVP 00," because last issue the deadline beat me. Now it's a tie score, as I have worked hard to make the deadline and get a point in my favor.
:?)

23:36:24

These are the hours, minutes, and seconds left of deadline. I'm in a good place to finish on time. I wish I could say I'd be early, but that'd be lying. The little things like proofreading each story and making corrections that the proofreaders spot and then converting each page into a PDF file and sending it over the internet to my printer... all these things are tedious and take more time than I'd think.

I'm listening to Pilot Speed (Wind-Up), who used to be known as Pilate. Good stuff. Melodic, slow, rocking in places.

"Easter Descent" is the title chapter 10 in Don Miller's book.
Don and Paul make their way down into the canyon on Easter morning. They sleep past the sunrise and start down around 10am. It takes them forever to get down there. I think it took five hours. I can't imagine hiking for five hours. I don't hink I've ever hiked that far or for that long. If I have, I've forgotten the experience. I'm not so sure I want to make that hike if I get to the Canyon. But I'd have to see the bottom. I guess it's the price you pay for the experience.

Dancing

Don Miller writes as he's a day away from hiking down into the Grand Canyon. He details something going on inside of him that's interesting. He's disconnecting from the life he once knew -- which revolved around "clothes and cars and a new flavor of toothpaste" -- and a new life he was discovering -- that centered around community, creation, beauty and humanity. He touched on the silly and hollow futility of the materialistic life, which he juxtaposed with his new surroundings and lifestyle: "I am getting used to not having any music or television and not pulling over and buying something as a way of feeling some kind of change." He talked about going through a "withdrawal," where on his first day there he almost bought a license plate keychain with his name on it, just to give him that familiar "having something new as a way of feeling different about myself."

Wow, can I relate to that. I think that somehow it can be healthy for a woman to buy a dress as a way of breaking the norm -- which is self-sacrifice and looking after the needs of others. I think along the same lines when I haven't bought a new DVD for about three or four months: "This is good for me."

Don makes another observation along these same lines, when he summarizes three blessings God gives to man:

and befriend him as a confidant.

"Too many take the first two and neglect the last," he observes. Think about what we're giving up! This is better than having Bono or Julia Roberts as a best friend! We're talking the Creator of the universe wanting to hang out with us! Don likens it to a dance. "Life is a dance toward God," he says. He starts to realize that he's not "missing something" by being at the Canyon. I hate that feeling of missing something. I'll get that at the annual GMA convention, where there are lots of people to meet and tons of bands to see and lots of get-togethers to partake of. I'm hustling about, doing this and that, and whenever I slow down or sit down and rest, I get this nagging feeling like I'm missing something and not "getting the best" out of the experience. It's a frustrating experience, because it makes me feel like I'm in a mice cage treadmill -- all for someone else's expectations, like I was living for them. It's quite liberating to accept my circumstances and conclude that "this is where God wants me," and to embrace it, live it, and drink it up.

Floating Bodies At Hoover Dam

"Before we go any further, does anyone have any dam questions about the Hoover dam?" The writers for National Lampoon couldn't resist that one when Chevy Chase and his Griswalds family take the Hoover Dam tour.

Don Miller describes the Grand Canyon and he remarks at how breathtaking it really is, making a strong case for not taking anyone's word for it (or even the fine photos from National Geographic), but we must all see this wonderful sight.

Some of the details about the trip into the canyon bug me. They have to pay x-amount of money just to get in, x-amount to camp, they must get permits to hike, and they must make reservations to camp at the various camp sites on the way down. I guess it wouldn't bother me if I knew it coming in and was prepared. I've never been the type of person to carry money that I knew would be spent for unexpected things. I try to be calculated and saved my money for specific things. If I have cash on me, though, and I see something cool, I buy it -- especially if it's on sale. For example, recently I was in a Sports Authority store and saw some Dallas Cowboys stuff. They had Keyshawn Johnson bobbleheads on clearance for 99 cents. Do I need a Keyshawn Johnson bobblehead? No, but at one dollar, I didn't want to pass it by. You never know, I might be able to sell it on ebay for $20.

Don's got me convinced, though. I need to see the Grand Canyon. I've seen part of what is called the Grand Canyon, but didn't stop and take it all in. We'll have to do that sometime. Don's humor is found in every chapter, but this one has it on display well. When told they'd have to get permits to hike, Don whipped out his Blockbuster card and laid it on the counter, as if it would take care of all their needs. He gave the girl at the Information Center. Then, when they talked to the guy in charge of handing out hiking permits, they were told that it was a tough hike and if they had any physical problems, they should probably forgo the trip. If someone had a heart attack down there, they'd be too far to get aid to in time. And they couldn't land a helicopter in there to get 'em out, so they'd just throw the dead bodies in the river and then fish 'em out at the dam. It's funny how creative people can be when they know they have information that others don't or they're in a context where questions arise.

I remember one of our early out-of-state gigs with my band Lust Control. We were booked at the New Union club in Minneapolis, which was cancelled and we were re-routed to an all-ages teen club in Fridley, MN just weeks before the show (but that's another story). On the plane ride there, Mitch (our guitarist, otherwise known by his middle name, "Bradford") and I pulled a funny one on our gullible bass player, John (aka "Butch"). At the end of our flight we both adjusted our watches.

"What are you doing?" asked John.

"Just adjusting our watches for jet lag." When knew we had him, so we took it further. "The plane travels at the speed of light. The pilots actually see red when they look out there window. Behind us everything looks blue. We have to adjust our watches by 5 or 10 minutes to adjust for this. That's what jet lag is all about."

He knew we were lying by then, but we'd already entered into that "fun times" area that makes good memories.

Flagstaff

Don and Paul arrive in Flagstaff, Arizona. Don seems impressed with the community there. He sees something that indicates that the people there want to live together in a community. I guess it's a long ways away from the sprawling complexity of Houston, Texas.

He talks about the difference between the people in Flagstaff and the people in Houston. The ones in Flagstaff will have a Georgia O'Keeffe painting on the wall in their house. And they'll look at it. "Houston makes you feel like life is about the panic and the resolution of the panic and nothing more." I can, unfortunately, relate to that. This is very sad. Hustling from one thing to another can sap the energy right out of a person. Maybe the simplicity of that Switchfoot song is trying to scream at us to change: "We were meant to live for so much more." Perhaps it is true that we weren't created for the kind of life that we construct for ourselves.

Perhaps we need to discipline ourselves in this day and age to purposefully slow down. When we slow down, we have a chance to think. When we relax we get our bodies in line with the need for rest. We can force our minds and the rush-panic-rush switch inside that we can choose how we live. We can overthrow the great tyrant -- the tyranny of the urgent.

If we don't do this, he'll kill us.

If we do overthrow him, which we can do, we will put joy in its place.

2006 Albums

I recently had to choose my top 5 albums for 2006 for our next issue, and it was hard -- real hard. 2006 has been a great year for music. Since I have this blog, I figured I'd list the bands that didn't make my cut, that somehow I had to (agonizingly) omit from my top 5 list. Here are the ones that won't be listed in the next issue under my name:

The Violet Burning: Drop-Dead
Mat Kearney: Nothing Left To Lose
Bernard: A View Beyond The Cave
Demon Hunter: The Triptych
Sleeping At Last: Keep No Score
Mute Math: S/T
Stavesacre: How To Live With A Curse
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: Howl

Trouble

This, the sixth chapter of Through Painted Deserts, shows the boys bantering about in the van as they travel ... and have engine trouble ... again. Like any positive people, they make do with their situation and have as much fun with it as possible. They repair the linkage in their dual carburator using the speaker wire from the VW van's stereo.
Nice.

This is a good way to approach life. When I interviewed Kemper Crabb for his DVD release, he said something about one of the differences believers have with non-believers. A believer actually has a purpose and something good that can come out of suffering. Our suffering and, on a lesser scale, the annoying and disturbing things that happen in our life can be used as opportunities to grow. God can certainly use negative situations to bring about good, and maturation, and wisdom, and even beauty.

That's not a message I want to hear when everything's honky-dory in my life, or possibly not even when I'm suffering, but it's good. And it's true.

Sometimes when I have physical pain in my life, like now with my shoulder/neck, it causes me to "slow down" and gives me opportunity to think. Maybe I'm waiting in a doctor's office, or maybe I'm taking a break from working on the computer since it hurts too much to keep at it. At those times, my multi-tasking, get-it-all-done mentality takes a break. It's at these times that I can maybe hear God and maybe ponder what's going on. A lot of us are probably guilty of not taking time on a frequent basis to just chill.

Sometimes even our "quiet times" (those times where we set aside and endeavor to read the Word and pray) become busy "get-this-task-done" times, where we're "doing" again, instead of pausing, resting, and reflecting. Maybe if we took the pressure and human expectation off ourselves to put x-amount of time into the Word or pray through such and such a list or sing x-many songs of worship... Maybe if we just took a deep breath and settled down a little bit, maybe then we could get in the place where we really hear God. Maybe Tuesday's devotion time was spent watching a butterfly and enjoying that. Of course, a heart of gratitude for that special time will likely emerge and we'll thank God for that special treat. Not condemning ourselves for "not accomplishing anything" during our devotion time is a good place to start. There will hopefully be plenty of time to study the Word, and yes, that is a discipline that does require work and getting past how we feel sometimes, but being flexible enough to change the schedule can sometimes be a very freeing thing.

I've got to get back to deadline and producing this next issue. I pray:

"Father, thanks so much for this day. Thanks for this time to pause and reflect. Thank you for being there for me to talk to even in the midst of physical pain. I'd love to be instantly healed and this pain taken away, and I humbly ask that You would touch my body and do this for me; yet I praise You and acknowledge that You are my King and my Boss. I love You. Please bless my family and show Your love to them today in a way that opens their eyes and makes them go, 'Wow!' Thank You. Amen."

The Gaze of RA

I've been getting press releases and multiple copies of a band called Ra. They are kind of a mixture of reggae and metal. It's okay. Don goes off on a description of the sun and starts talking about different explanations cultures have come up with to explain the sun. He discusses Egyptian history and a Hindu explanation, about two romantic gods, one having its eyes covered by the hands of the other. This romantic story must've made Hindu children blush, thinking the gods were romantic every night.

One description I can't remember hearing before is how light is kind of like a parallel to a characteristic of God. He is apart from matter, yet He spoke matter into existence. Light is something we don't really see, as much as we see what it lights up. It's hard to define, as it travels with an almost metaphysical property. It's kind of neat to think of God giving us something that reflects His character.

It's kind of daring for Don to talk about other religions. I like it. I took an English class in college that was called something like "History of Western Literature," yet we studied Buddhism, Hinduism, Judiasm, and other panthiestic religions. I think some Christians are afraid of studying other religions, for fear of "losing" theirs or allowing someone to be deceived by a false religion. I have confidence in the truth -- that it can stand up to any scrutiny. If it could not, then it's not much of a truth, huh?

I'm quite thankful that I've got a tiny little perpsective on some of the major religions of the world. Being able to see the differences and similarities kinda helps me understand people and the world a little better. I'm not afraid of them.

Discovering George Winston

I remember when New Age Music became an exploding genre. George Winston and Windham Hill Records were cranking out beautiful albums with ambient, sometimes stark, and sometimes stripped-down music of just piano or a fretless bass and a keyboard worked wonders, filling up the silence with emotion. Even Sparrow Records got in on the genre quickly, starting Meadowlark Records, which afforded the great artist from the Northwest, Jeff Johnson, to display his craft. No Shadow Of Turning was a great instrumental album.

So Don almost gets beat up by some hick in a Texas truck stop in chapter 4. Amazingly, he stands up to the idiot guy and fires back at him with humor. He does this at risk of violence, but this time brains wins out over brawn. It was a funny story.

What's to glean from this chapter? I don't know. I'm curious what some of the other Don Miller readers out there think about this book. It's a fun journey and it's neat to read in its honesty. One such conversation of jesting was probably edited out of the first version, which I heard was edited for the CBA market. This "more dangerous" version has two guys jesting about why one isn't attracted to the other. "Is it because of my small breasts," asks Paul, holding his shirt with two hands, pulling teepees in the shape of two mountain peaks on his chest. Something as lighthearted and "innocent" as this might get censored in an environment where a clean plastic veneer is valued more than an honest reenactment.

Humor is an interesting experience. Certainly things can get "out of hand" when jokes start flying, but humor is also something that brings joy and companionship to this life. I bet Jesus joked around with His disciples. Do you think He ever picked up a rock and looked around, saying, "Anyone hungry?"

Prison Break:
I saw the latest episode last night. Some things are going as I figured, and other things are left up in the air as the episode ended. Will T-Bag remove his hand to escape capture? Will prison guard A recover from his head injury? Will Sara get away from this rogue Secret Serviceman?

Breakfast:
I had the perfect bowl of cereal today (in a large cappuccino mug): Rice Crispies and banana slices. There was only enough milk to keep the cereal moist but not soggy, revealing just a drop in the bottom by the time I got to the end of the bowl. As revealed in the mewithoutYou story, I'm picky about my peanut butter & jelly sandwiches (not too much jelly, which makes the entire sandwich soggy) and my cereal.

Dustin Kensrue:
I just got his new solo album in yesterday. I was going to play it in the car today after voting and on the way to work, but it's one of those new "copyright protected" discs that doesn't want to play in many car stereos. Sigh.

Question for Don Miller:
I like the point about how apologetics and the "apologetics craze" that many of us go through somehow feeds this hunger to be thought of as right. It's a way to trump people with our knowlege -- of proving other people wrong. There's something arrogant about that whole idea, and I like how Don pushes that button and shares that message (if I'm getting it right). But I'm curious about this (and feel sorta bad about questioning a guy I admire and love to read): Is this fascination with the metaphysical and quantum physics and the praise heaped upon the movie What the (bleep) do we know? just a reinforcement of the "evils" or wrong motives of apologetics? I have seen the movie (reviewed it in HM) and also appreciate how the right questions are asked in its discussion; but isn't the excitement of seeing how quantum physics seems to point to intelligent even without trying to ... isn't that just like apologetics showing us that "we're right" and "they're wrong?"

Thin Ice

Don and Paul are travelling through Oklahoma in the third chapter. Don keeps reverting back to his "why do we ask why questions" thought and they begin a conversation about the perfect woman. Paul describes one woman that he used to see in Oregon, whom Don thinks to himself won't be his "one." When describing the perfect girl, Don breaks down the men and their answer to this question into two distinct camps: those men who want a woman to complete their lives; and those men who want a woman to join their completed life. He reserves judgment and says he doesn't think one is any better than the other, but something inside me disagrees.

I think the one who is looking for a woman to join his completed life has the headstart on the other type of guy. But I am biased. I can see a little bit of myself in both, but I think I'm part of the latter group. I could be blind and lying to myself, as it can be hard to give a self assessment. One can insert wishful thinking in front of objective thinking. I sure like the idea of a person "finding" him or her self before they become one with another, but that's just me. There's a lot to be said for continuous self discovery with the aid of a companion. In an ideal world, I guess, a man would find himself content with where God has him, knowing that he is not complete or perfect or finished with his journey, but is content with who they are and not yearning for something out of reach or hating oneself because of unmet goals, etc.

When Paul describes his perfect companion -- one who joins him in camping 'n' hunting, and will carry the deer back to the truck. Don responds with something like: "How will this woman give up her career in professional wrestling to settle down with you?" It's funny. Maybe Paul is designing a woman who doesn't exist in his mind.

When a person is married, I'm not sure that answering this question or pondering what the perfect spouse would be like is helpful or healthy. Maybe it is, but if someone focuses only on their spouse's shortcomings in comparison to some ideal in their mind. Maybe a better question to ask a married person is "What do you like or appreciate about your spouse?" Then maybe they can see how God provided just what they needed in a mate. I'm no marriage counselor, but I think it can be cool to count our blessings and look for ways that God has shown His provision in our lives -- sometimes without us knowing it or having anything to do with it.

Don starts off the chapter by going through the glove box and finding some tapes -- Lynyrd Skynyrd, U2's The Joshua Tree, and George Winston. He blanches at playing any Southern Rock and he doesn't know who George Winston is. Why he chooses silence over the great Joshua Tree album is a mystery to me. And I'm shocked that anyone wouldn't know who George Winston is. He is one of about three people that should have their photo in the dictionary next to the entry for "New Age Music."

Thank you

Thanks to pixelministries.com for posting us on their site.

Hill Country

Boy, was I ripped off! I was hoping and guessing that a chapter titled "Hill Country" would be full of stories of wandering and discovery in and around Austin, Texas. Somehow, the chapter got its name from the area that a rest area was located, somewhere outside of Dallas. It can be hilly around there, I guess (though I have never made the trip from Dallas to Houston via I-45). Don wakes up in the cocoon of his sleeping bag, keeping warm in the back of a van. They are going through Dallas to get to Oklahoma and then plan on going over to the Grand Canyon. Maybe they want to go through the tip of Colorado to get there. I would've probably gone to Austin, and then West through Midland, Odessa, and Lubbock on through Albuquerque and then West towards the Grand Canyon. It's been awhile since I've been there -- or even looked at a map -- so my directions could be bogus.

It's funny. Don begans to wonder about people who ask the "why" questions: "Why are we here? Why do we do this?" Some people, it seems, aren't asking these questions. They are busy asking the "how" questions: "How do I get married? How do I make money? How do I get happy?" Don wonders what it would be like if he left/lost his faith. I heard a lecture he gave at Harvard that was described as him telling the story of how he walked away from his faith and his journey back towards it. I wonder if this trip the book chronicles is going to be that story. I wonder, and I get mad at myself for my memory getting fuzzy on the Don Miller timeline. It should be easy to figure it out once he tells it, but perhaps I wasn't listening or I haven't heard or read that story's details as to the "when's" and "where's." I guess he left Houston, went on this trip, maybe lost his faith sometime around there, and "found" it again or re-kindled it by the time he settled into Portland, where he is now. I remember him talking about telling God He doesn't exist, but then continued to have a dialog with Him about it the whole time, eventually returning to embrace the Truth that He is there.

Meanwhile, it'll be fun to "join" these two young men who set out to discover America. In this chapter they run across an older guy named Ben, who helps them fix their Volkswagen's twin-carberator. He makes a couple references about having to clean up "cuz he smells like a mule, and his wife doesn't like that," and the two men leave thinking, "Ben's got the life. Comes home to the woman he loves..." I remember a conversation that was repeated a couple times with my best friend from high school. We'd say, "All I want is a fine wife to come home to..." That sense of love, family, and relationship was a goal that we imagined would bring balance, perspective and peace to our lives. There's something about each of us, I think, that longs for a companion. Some of us can do alright working alone and forging ahead in life by ourselves, but there's something inside that yearns for this companionship, this love. It's frustrating to be consumed by this desire and not have it met. This quest leads to a lot of misery and disappointment sometimes, but it can also be a fun adventure.

I remember telling a friend what I discovered about dating: While I used to shrink back at the fear and nervousness of asking a girl out, I later decided to embrace the fear, the fast heartrate, the dizziness, and experience it like a drug or something. Instead of shrinking away from it, I drink it up like a thrill ride. This perspective allows me to enjoy not only that period of my life when I was single, but other areas, too. It helps me to look at mishaps or events as an opportunity to experience life. It's not easy to take that perspective and sometimes the thought of, 'I can really enjoy this' is the last thing on my mind. But I'd rather be happy and roll with the punches than uptight, frustrated, or full of rage.

So, back to the book. As I finish chapter 2 and look forward to chapters 3 and beyond, I imagine it's happening in real time (kind of like an exciting tv series like Prison Break) and want to shout, "Go, Don, go!"

Prison Break plot guesses:
The two cops that capture T-bag are going to be overcome somehow and lose the money. One of them will die. Probably the one that left the prison first (can't remember his name), the one with the most hair. T-bag should die, because he is evil, but his very evil character is what makes him essential to the show. Lincoln and TJ will somehow be blessed with a car wreck in the van transporting them back to prison (for the second time), and they'll escape. The crazy guy with the red football helmet and the bicycle wants to get to Holland, but he will do a few more crazy things and then get caught. I'd like to have a poster of him riding that bike with his helmet on. I used to have a poster of Kermit the Frog riding a bicycle from The Muppet Movie.

NFL plot guesses:
The NFL is rigged, a CIA/FBI plot to control gambling and the mafia's addiction to it. Here is what's going to happen:
The Chicago Bears will go undefeated throughout the regular season -- beating, coincidentily, the Miami Dolphins in Chicago, where a few of the '72 team members will encourage their old team to win -- but face the resurgent Dallas Cowboys at Soldier Field in January for the NFC Championship. This will be another six-seeded team climbing its way through the playoff bracket. New York will win the NFC Beast; Seattle the West; Atlanta the South (I'm iffy on that one); Chicago the North; and Dallas and Minnesota the wild card teams. Dallas will win this game on the snowy field in icy conditions. It'll be a great defensive battle that will have running backs from both teams playing a vital role, and a single-covered Terry Glenn will catch the winning touchdown pass in the final minute. The AFC is harder to predict. Let's say: AFC East: New England; North: Baltimore; South: Indianapolis; the AFC Bwest: Denver; and the two wild cards: Denver and San Diego. Indianapolis will finally get over the hump and make it to the big game. Super Bowl LI will be a rematch of Super Bowl V. They haven't told me yet who will win that one.

Leaving

Ah, walking the grounds of the HM Ranch this morning was good. Our dog, Biscuit, loves it out here. I brought a couple tennis balls to the ranch, so he could play fetch with me. He's a good dog. I staked out our "yard," so the farmer I've contracted to farm the land will know where not to plow as they get the land ready for planting. I chugged a Monster Energy drink while placing the stakes in. I walked down to our broken pond and noticed that it's full of water again. The former owner of this land said this was a runoff pond and won't hold water without some work. I'm curious what would need to be done. My guess is that it "leaks" underground somewhere, because it goes from empty to full in a sudden manner.

The first chapter of Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts (which was first published as Prayer and the Art of Volkswagen Maintenance) is about their journey's beginnings. A group of guys in Houston play around with the idea of a cross-country road trip, but only Don and this guy named Paul end up having the courage and minimal ties to allow them to cut and run across the country.

It's funny to note the difference between a traveller like this and those who stay behind with their jobs, families and commitments. I often look back at my college days with a fondness, as they didn't hold me to the same constraints and deadlines and daily hours that I now face. However, when I was in college, I looked forward to getting out.

I probably miss the looseness of being able to run my schedule around the few hours (usually 12 per week) of classes, budgeting when I'd do homework and such. I do regret not having the ability to have sweet quiet times with God every day, where I'd often incorporate worship, prayer and reading of the Word into a good hour more days than not. I gauge the worth partly on the closeness I felt during those times. Reading and studying the Word was usually a chore, and praying through a list of friends and requests was sometimes dry, but I remember often my worship time leading me to cry tears of joy. While emotions are a fragile thing that can't be relied upon, seeing them as a gauge to measure whether I "entered into" worship seems fairly secure to rely on for that mild judgment. There are other, less emotional ways to engage our Creator -- that's for sure -- but those were special times. I know that.

My idea of a break from the routine would be to rent a hotel room and sleep for a week. I laugh, because this shows that I haven't changed much from my days as a student. I've always appreciated laziness and sleep. ha ha

Like Don Miller, I realize that this is a leisure that has to be kept under control and discipline, as the Bible makes pretty clear that laziness isn't a fruit of the Spirit; and sluggards aren't spoken of too well in the Scriptures.

"Hill Country" is the title of the next chapter, which is the jargon used to describe West Austin's hilly terrain. I can't wait to dive into that one!

Oh, two more things:

I need to go on record and state that Prison Break is an awesome show. It's like the perfect fix for my 24 (the tv show) addiction, which is in between seasons right now. The writers have to figure out how they're going to use Jack Bauer's banishment to China in a boat will play out. Meanwhile, Prison Break offers a similar edge-of-the-seat thrill each week. I can't believe how exciting these shows are. I am wondering what's going to happen to Lincoln and TJ, who ran into some trouble on this week's episode.