Jonathan's Musings

Friends

2007-02-16T08:02:00.000-08:00

What defines a "friend"?

“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” - Anon

It's been said, "It takes years to build up trust, and just seconds to destroy it", but a true friend is one who loves without condition.

We have Such a Friend. May we be such friends.

Some excitement

2006-10-30T22:21:00.000-08:00

Check out my other blog for some recent adventures.

Quote of the day

2006-10-19T21:48:00.000-07:00

I just stole this from another friend's site: "God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing." - C.S. Lewis

It's a pretty elementary concept, but also one that's so easy to forget. Well, here's a reminder.

Anecdote of the day

2006-10-19T14:30:00.000-07:00

I went to Panera Bread for lunch today. (Here I go talking about food again.) I hadn’t been there in a while, and a nice sandwich and salad sounded good. (It was.) I was wearing a dark green, three-button suit, sporting one of my best ties, and stylishly listening to “Till We Have Faces” on my iPod. After picking up my food, I went outside to enjoy lunch, some beautiful weather, and a good book.

Several other patrons were also enjoying lunch outside, and, no doubt, were impressed by my professional appearance. As I was finishing my meal, Psyche was brought into the world under rather sad circumstances. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t realize the extent of the King’s anger. I rose from my seat and walked toward the door, on my way to return my plate and get a refill on my iced tea. Just as I reached for the door handle, however, the favored young page boy suddenly slipped in a puddle of blood and was immediately stabbed to death by the King! I was aghast and, in a state of shock, immediately dropped a full cup of ice on the mat directly outside the main entrance. Of course, “slip and fall” immediately came to mind, so I tried kicking the ice out of the way, but that wrinkled the mat. Then I opened the door and it got stuck on the mat and wouldn’t shut.
At that point, I wasn’t feeling so suave.

One last thought

2006-10-12T23:15:00.000-07:00

For edifying reading that's not about me - or food - well, not as much - I recommend this blog. Said (or not said) blogger is building a large international readership empire. It's amazing. And big. Did I say that already?

Interesting observation

2006-10-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

Maybe I shouldn't point this out, but I like food. Yeah, I do. I like it. I enjoy the textures, the flavors, the bite. I enjoy the rush that comes with eating unique things - especially if they're tasty. I guess food has a high priority in my life (probably higher than it should have). This revelation came to me as I was reading my most recent blog entries. Of the last six entries, five of them deal with food, and they're making me hungry.

A happy report

2006-10-12T22:48:00.000-07:00

I am happy to report that the New York-style cheesesteak shop previously maligned by yours truly on this here truly blog, is now open on Tuesdays! I discovered this when I went over there last Tuesday with Quinton, not remembering my prior bad experience (even though it was the only other time I'd tried to go there!) until I pulled into the parking lot. Happily, as previously stated, it was in fact open, and though from the looks of things we may have been the only customers that evening, the sandwiches were in fact very good.

Recent events

2006-10-04T07:58:00.000-07:00

I'm here to beg forgiveness from my regular blog readers, and to blog more about recent events. Unfortunately, from the best recent event, the OBCL alumni association meeting in Anaheim, I have no photos. And I find it immensely difficult to write without pictures. Thus, I end up taking corny quizzes and posting things about frappuccinos. You have to admit, that mocha frap really does look inviting. How could one see that and NOT blog about it?

If I had some pictures from the meeting, and the events that followed, I'd say something smart about how wonderful it was to see old - strike that - young friends again, take midday Sam's Club runs to negotiate sandwich prices, and name watermelons (though I don't recall being consulted on the naming part). Or I might mention that the meeting itself went shockingly smoothly. (I think, though I cannot definitely confirm this, as I was preoccupied with a slideshow much of the time.) I would probably also say something about my grand dive off the Huntington Beach Pier, which most people missed (including myself), or that huge sea mackerel I watched one of the pier fishermen reel in. Hey, maybe not having pictures isn't so bad after all.

Well, I'm off to work . . . until next time! (Hopefully I won't be fully bald or gray by then.) (For the record, I do intend to post some pictures of recent travels over on lifescolors.blogspot.com, hopefully including some from this trip, if they ever come through.) (Also for the record, I do have a penchant for parentheses.) (That last comment was probably superfluous.)

I'm a Frappuccino?

2006-10-03T16:19:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this is cheesy, but I think the description is pretty stinkin' accurate. Unfortunately for the quizmakers, I rarely drink the mocha frap, preferring what one of my favorite baristas refers to as a "manly" drink, the venti iced Americano with room, occassionally with an extra shot.

Mocha Frappuccino

Hyper and driven, you'll take your caffeine any way you can get it. Frappuccinos are good, but you'd probably chew coffee beans in a crunch!

Surfer's ear

2006-08-01T11:13:00.000-07:00

No, I found a lot of shoes and flip flops on the beach, lots of rocks, sand, and sea shells, but no ears. I guess I'm fortunate in that respect.

There's nothing else quite like a roaring sea, an ocean breeze, soft sand between one's toes, and salty algae sloshing around in the head. Memories are made of things like these. They're probably erased by them, too. After being violently twisted and shaken in a wave like a sadly fated rag doll last night, and having ocean water forcibly infused into my head (through my nose and out my ears, I am quite certain), the thought occurred to me (this was encouraging) that . . . er, it'll come to me again. I hope. I call this water-and-junk infusion "surfer's ear." It's sort of like "swimmer's ear," but with a lot more living stuff and less chlorine. Now I can hear the ocean anywhere I go - even back in Sacramento - just by shaking my head!

As a side note, the vicious fish didn't bother me. I drink garlic and beet juice pretty regularly to keep insects and man-eating fish and wildlife away. It works!

Blinding cops is a bad idea

2006-05-29T18:00:00.000-07:00

I guess my car's brights are pretty bright. Coming down Old Priest Grade last night on the way home from Yosemite, I came around a corner and encountered an approaching SUV. Barely awake enough to concentrate on driving, I failed to dim my brights for the three seconds it took for the SUV to pass me.

(the daytime view)

A few minutes later, I looked in my mirror and noticed a officer of the law behind me flashing his happy SUV lights. I checked my speed - okay; my seatbelt - okay; was I weaving? - not really. Apparently, I'd blinded him with my brights and he wasn't terribly happy about it. Fortunately, after the normal checks of my license, insurance, registration, and penitence level, he decided to be lenient and let me off with a five minute lecture on the brightness of my lights and the courtesy of dimming them. He also mentioned something about moving violations and marks against my record.

Will work for . . .

2006-05-18T13:53:00.000-07:00

. . . dinner theatre tickets? A few days ago, I got an e-mail from Matt about a local dinner theatre that was looking for a real estate attorney. I called them up, and sure enough, they needed a lease reviewed - and asked if we could barter a dollar-for-dollar exchange of legal work for dinner theatre tickets. I figured that would be a lot of food (which is supposedly good at this place) and possibly fun, so I acquiesced. Who knows, I might even like it! :-)

Europe!

2006-05-10T06:32:00.000-07:00

After many months of anticipation and preparation, we finally traveled to Europe for the OBCL Reformation Tour, led by our law school dean, Roger Magnuson (and organized by the excellent Paul Harman). Check out my other blog and Emily's blog for trip photos!

Are you kidding me?

2006-04-04T15:56:00.000-07:00

"Tuesdays: closed" Was I reading that correctly? Yes, I was. Are you kidding me? It's a New York style sandwich shop in a strip mall and it's closed on Tuesdays. I mean, if they close for a Tuesday holiday, that would be one thing. Other than Independence Day, I don't anticipate any Tuesday holidays this year, so it would be a bit surprising, but not entirely shocking. Closed every Tuesday. I'm still not quite over it. It's bad enough that some hairdressers/barbers are still closed on Mondays.

Well, there are other places to eat. Instead of a deli sandwich and chips, I decided I was hungry for sushi (well, mostly for the ginger and California rolls) at this relatively inexpensive Japanese buffet not far from the New York sandwich place.

Can you believe it? "Tuesdays: closed" read the sign on the front door. Now, I'm not really a conspiracy theorist at heart, but I recognize a conspiracy when it's staring me in the face and punching me in the stomach (with hunger pains), and I'm not so naive to think the restaurant owners in Elk Grove are incapable of joining in a conspiracy. No, there's really only one possible explanation here; the American government has [ironically] increased its uncontrolled pork barrel spending and stooped to new lows by subsidizing small restuarant owners ("small" describing the restaurants, of course) to close on Tuesdays in an effort to combat the growing obesity problem in America. Someone should call Pat Buchanan and let him in on this inside information.

I'm off to go re-write my schedule. [Mondays: eat lunch; Tuesdays: get hair cut, etc.]

Will trade friends for coffee

2006-02-28T11:52:00.000-08:00

I finally got past the sentimental attachment to my old law school buddies, the Gilbert Outlines. Many fine hours we spent together at home or out at our favorite drinking establishment. In honor of their years of faithful service, I couldn't help but purchase a sort of memorial with the funds obtained from their passing. So, with respect and in their honor, I present to you the fully loaded . . .

Glad to be an American

2006-02-23T14:49:00.000-08:00

A wave of anticipatory reminiscence passes over me as I sit here listening to Alison Krauss + Union Station and consider the upcoming trip to Europe. I'll love it; I'm eagerly awaiting it; and I already can't wait to get home. Maybe the music reminds me too much of the south. I should go visit that country again soon too.

Sailing from the city?

2006-02-15T08:39:00.000-08:00

"It’s one thing to drift off course. It’s another to continue that course when half the crew and passengers are pointing out that nothing looks familiar, not to mention the tens of millions of Americans lining the shoreline screaming, 'You’re going the wrong way!'"

The Republican spending machine has been cranking out approximately 8.0% non-defense spending increases every year for the last five years. Are we merely "off course," or are we completely lost?

Rebecca Hagelin of Townhall.com argues that we are more than merely "off course."

Unveiling the hottest new blog on the net

2006-02-07T15:01:00.000-08:00

Okay, so that may be overstating things a bit, but I do have a new blog link dedicated to pictures and stories about my life and adventures. Check out the new life's colors blog for photos of friends, nature, and possibly even me.

The story of a grateful American

2006-02-04T08:34:00.000-08:00

I just read this article by Burt Prelutsky from Townhall.com. It's a story most of us could tell, but that's easily forgotten, so take a minute to read this heartwarming tribute and remind yourself why you're grateful to be an American.

2006-01-27T12:02:00.000-08:00

Only in America . . .

Pursuing the American dream. Gotta give 'em kudos for that. But what about the cats?

Eats, Shoots, and Blogs

2006-01-11T07:22:00.000-08:00

The book "Eats, Shoots & Leaves" prompted me to acknowledge that I am, in fact, a grammatical stickler. I am also an occassional blogger. This, to me, is a great paradox. It would seem that being an author of sorts and being a grammatical stickler would go together like hot cocoa and marshmallows. Not so, I have found. Why? Because I make mistakes. Stupid ones, ones I should know better than to make. And it seems I often miss them until I am myself surfing the web, which of course eventually leads to my blog, and of course when I arrive there I am compelled to read it to make sure nothing terribly new and interesting has occurred in the world since my last visit. (Note to self: self's blog hasn't announced any "terribly new and interesting" world occurrences in quite a while.) Nevertheless, I can never know for sure that my blog's as I last left it without reading it, so I make the visit and, voila, find that the byte bugs (or is it "bug bytes?") have apparently disrupted my perfect construction and demand immediate repair. It really is a disheartening thing for me to realize I'm not perfect.

On the other hand, if I were perfect, I'd have to be perfect all the time, and that's an even more discouraging thought. So, I thank God I'm imperfect and that He loves me anyway - even if my letters don't always line up right!

You know, it's like life. None of us has it all together. Our letters don't always line up like they're "supposed" to or like we want them to. Our commas and periods sometimes get lost when we really needed the break, or placed in the most inconvenient places. Sometimes the book ends just when we wanted it to go on forever, or we find a chapter needing to be put it out of its misery. Those are chapters and books of our lives. Imperfect as they are, though, they're ours, given to us and to no one else. No one has lived or ever will live our unique stories. And those stories, regardless of the mistakes we've made, the errant commas we've inserted, or the coloring outside the lines we've done, can be beautiful. It's through our failures and mistakes that Love can be revealed - the purest of all colors infusing the bleakest drawing and turning it into a radiant story. Jesus' love not only covers all sin, it colors every story - if we'll but let it.

I know it sounds pretty bizarre - most of us want to be perfect all the time - most of us want to be good enough to warrant justified love - but I think we should all take a moment to thank God that we're sinners - because without failure, we could never fully experience the overwhelming deepness of the love of Jesus.

2006-01-10T15:41:00.000-08:00

Believe it or not, I didn't really come here to write about anything deep or esoteric today.

Really, all I came to say was that I just had a great vacation home (aside from a football-related bite through my lip - healed nicely, though, with the aid of Super Glue - don't ask - think Marsha), followed closely by my first visit to Seattle for a friend's wedding. Aside from having a large contingent of young vocals apparently objecting to the blessed union, the wedding was one of the most beautiful I've been to. Small - but not too small, simple, and romantic. The following day, Adrian, Tiffany, David and I visited Crystal Mountain (thanks to those of you who recommended it!) and spent a day on the slopes. More precisely, Adrian and I spent an afternoon and evening on the slopes. The others didn't have quite the affinity for hypothermia and, instead, spent considerable time sitting in the warmth of the lodge observing the occassional toboggan coming down the hill with another frozen body strapped to it. After the sun went down at 4:00, the resort's three night lifts lit up and the day's three to four inches of fresh powder sucked us into staying a few more delightful hours. It quit snowing about that time, too, and we couldn't have asked for better powder.

Sunday, we paid homage to the original Starbucks, wandered the fish market, went shopping, stumbled over a few homeless people - woah, is it just me, or does Seattle have the largest homeless population of any city in the world!? I had to have seen at least twice as many there as I've ever seen in San Francisco! Anyway, I wouldn't make Seattle my first choice for a tourist destination, but overall it wasn't a bad place at all - especially for people who enjoy shopping, people-watching, and street-wandering. Oh, and street musicians! They were out en masse and pretty fun to watch. I was tempted to buy a couple CD's, but decided I needed to spend the money on stuff more critical to my immediate survival: coffee, for instance. I'd heard Seattle had a coffee shop on every corner. That wasn't exactly the whole story. Not only was there a Starbucks, Seattle's Best, or some other home-grown coffee shop on every corner, there seemed to be three or four per block. I realized this as I was sipping a carmel macchiato and thinking a coffee refill would be nice. I looked up and there was a coffee shop. A few sips later, there was another, and another, and another. At least the people of Seattle will never go thirsty.

Speaking of thirsty, I read a book while I was in Seattle at the airport called "Blue Like Jazz: nonreligious thoughts on Christian spirituality," by Donald Miller. It had been recommended to me by several friends, so I finally took the advice and read it. ("What does this have to do with being thirsty?", you ask. Well, not much, really.) This book is great. There are a lot of things I don't agree with the author on, particularly his political and social views - I haven't protested any war efforts recently, or attended any anti-Bush demonstrations, but his humor, openness, and love for the Lord and people are compelling reasons to read the book if you get a chance. It's a really fun one, and challenging in its own way. Besides that, it's helpful for closed-minded, white male, Christian Republicans like me to get a glimpse into "the dark side" occassionally.

The tapestry of a happy life

2005-12-30T09:55:00.000-08:00

12/22/05

I splashed my way through a puddle of water that was gathering in the light rain falling here at the airport. My luggage came out dry enough, and the rain was hardly enough to dampen my spirits. I pulled my new carryon into the covered station to wait for the next shuttle to arrive. The water in the station was an inch deep, but I hardly noticed and quickly became engaged in a friendly conversation with an elderly couple next to me. They were on their way to San Diego to spend time with their son’s family for Christmas. It was evident from the sheer amount of luggage they were packing that someone was going to have a happy holiday! We chatted about their recent visit to Seattle, my upcoming trip there, the climate in Texas, and a various other light topics. I enjoyed it, assisted them with their luggage, and when we stepped off the shuttle, bid them a cheery farewell and Merry Christmas. Afterward, as I thought about it, I realized that brief encounters like these are the apparently random wildflowers in the green fields of life. They provide hints – dashes, if you will – of meaning, importance, and beauty to that which often becomes monotonous.

A half hour later, I sit staring through finger-print smudged glass into the heavy gray fog that blankets the airport. My cell phone is my left hand, my Apple iPod in my right. As I type on my laptop, I drain the last remaining bits of cream from a peppermint mocha Frappuccino. And I wonder, is this fun? Technology has connected me to clients from an airport lounge; given me Tolstoy’s massive War & Peace via audio book in a slim iPod about the size and weight of a car key; and allowed me to access everything from client files to libraries of music, photos, and movies - not to mention every e-mail I’ve sent or received in the past couple of years (well, not every one, there were few that got deleted along the way – including a few I rather wish hadn’t, but I digress). Human creativity and ingenuity is truly an amazing thing. But honestly, given the choice, I’d rather be sitting in the wet shuttle station with a couple friendly old folks on their way to San Diego. They’re the threads of life – the colored strands that run through the blank tapestry of a life being woven. At its best, technology (and, yes, I still love technology), merely assists us in connecting those colorful strands, keeping in touch, recording our memories, and recalling the tapestry of life.

It’s relationships that count and no achievement or ambition of man will ever change that.

Thank you for your friendship and readership. I'm a little late in posting this to wish you a Merry Christmas, but I do wish you a safe New Year's and a blessed 2006. To those of you I work with, it is a joy. To those of you I serve with, it is an honor. To the rest of you, my friends and family, you are blessings, and I cherish you all.

Give thanks!

2005-11-23T13:40:00.001-08:00

Giving thanks isn't always easy. Feelings are fickle things, bent on hopes and chasing dreams. In the inevitable storms of life, they are tossed to and fro, often shipwrecked on some shoal of dissapointment. In response, some seek refuge by turning inward and denying love. Others despair on life, throwing theirs away.

But I ask this question: is such a life - centered around our own ups and downs, peaks and dissapointments - fitting for a human being - a human being inspired by God, created in His image, intricately fashioned beyond human imagination or comprehension, placed on an earth thriving with life exceedingly vast in form, type, and character - on an earth placed in a solar system that is beautiful, expansive, and yet small - in an amazing galaxy that is a mere "subdivision" in a universe so vast that man has yet to discover an end, if one exists?

In this gift we call "life," no dissapointment can conquer His love. Sorrow may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed by His greatness and love.

Perfectly hung in orbit, 93.2 million miles from a sun imagined by the God who gives source to its light, earth travels at 67,000 miles per hour in its year-long race to make it around the sun once. Last year (or was it this year?), we put a couple rovers on Mars and congratulated ourselves at our ingenuity and ability. Yet, Mars is virtually our next door neighbor in this little cul de sac we call our solar system, barely a blip on the screen of our galaxy. God is big.

And even though we're infinitely small, God saw fit, in His pleasure, to fill the earth with music, with color, with scent, with flavor, with feeling, and with spirit. Look around. See the trees with their turning leaves. Smell the gentle rose, the relaxing coffee, the invigorating pine, and the crispness of a cold mountain day. Listen to the story in every creature's unique song. Feel the waves lapping at your feet on a warm, sandy beach, or the thunder of a spring storm. When you taste, savor. When you see, absorb. When you hear, listen. When you feel, appreciate. Whether you hear a bullfrog or a bee, think of the One who created it and gave it a song. Be in awe with the Psalmist, who wrote, "what is man, that you are mindful of him?" Take every minute you've been given as the gift that it is, and live. Live well, and recognize how great is our God.

Life isn't about us, it's about the Giver of life. Sing with creation, a song of joy and thanksgiving to the Creator of the universe, the Savior of man. His glory is indescribable and he is infinitely worthy.

Did Big Government fail the Big Easy?

2005-09-20T09:09:00.000-07:00

Here's an insightful commentary from the Cato Institute on the true failure of Big Government. This Washington Post article by George Will about the true solution for poverty is also worth perusing.

The Death of Individualism

2005-09-19T18:20:00.000-07:00

I just need to rant a little. New Orleans was hit with unspeakable tragedy a few weeks ago, and rescue efforts have been slow. I sincerely feel the deepest sympathy for those killed, displaced, or otherwise significantly affected by the storm. It's sad that this tragedy was preventable. I've heard that for as little as a few hundred million dollars - though possibly more like $2B, the levees could have been strengthened to withstand the force of the storm. But New Orleans partied on, oblivious to or in denial of the dangers placing their city in imminent peril almost every hurricane season.

Cries are heard that the federal government didn't do enough to prevent the damage to New Orleans. Few arguments are less compelling to me. We are a nation founded on nothing if we're not founded on the principle of individual responsibility. Americans have proven their mettle time and time again. We're the nation that birthed the Wright Brothers, Thomas Edison, Henry Ford; we're the nation that put men on the moon; we're the nation the prides itself in its ingenuity, responsibility and strength. Thus, it's surprising that a city as large as New Orleans, with the tourist revenues it generates, was unable to manage to find the money to save itself from nearly total devastation.

I don't think New Orleans is unique in its irresponsibility, though. As a city, its lack of preparation is merely a reflection on the state of our nation. We're becoming a nation of people who are no longer able to handle our own problems. Individually, we look to others to tell us who we are and to protect us from all ill - we rely on the goverment in everything from food and drug regulations to housing. When disaster strikes, we start pointed fingers, whining, and blaming our fellow citizens for not better protecting us. We've become Schwartzenegger's "girlymen." Don't get me wrong, my heart breaks for the families hit by Katrina. I'm glad I wasn't living where it wreaked its havoc. I believe we should all lend a helping hand by doing what we can to help those people. But, ultimately, most of those living in New Orleans, and the south in general, made the decision to live there, despite the known risks. They lost an expensive gamble. Now it's time to prove whether the "American Spirit" still lives in the people of New Orleans. Will the residents return willing to throw their own energies into restoring the city, or will the rest of us bear the burden alone? I sincerely hope New Orleans can pull itself up by the bootstraps and rebuild itself again. Unfortunately, I expect that the rest of us will end up shouldering that city's problems ourselves and, for the most part, alone - not voluntarily, but involuntarily.

Which brings me to another question that remains in my mind. Should I - me, personally - and you, be forced to pay to rebuild a city that lies as much as 17 feet below sea level in a hurricane zone? Is this wise? The Wall Street Journal reported Saturday that in the past quarter the U.S. went something like another $185 Billion into debt. Our nation is already on a course of financial self-destruction. Should we really be pouring resources into an area that will be perpetually in danger of being hit with another hurricane? I don't think Californians should be forced to make that decision merely because New Orleans is a famous place. After all, when was the last time California or any state other than Louisiana benefitted financially from the existence of New Orleans? Our federal government has forgotten its role. Disaster relief is one thing; local development is quite another, regardless of the tragedy giving rise to its necessity.

It's time for individuals to step up to the plate. Maybe Louisianans can rebuild their own city, or maybe corporate investors can help do so - there's surely an incentive for them.

I know it may sound heartless and cold, but if my house gets burglarized tomorrow, I don't think you should be forced to pay for my losses, whether or not the burglary occurred because I left my back door unlocked like New Orleans did.

Too many people don't grow up anymore. They remain perpetual children, looking to their parents, friends, and governments to take care of them. And, it's hard to blame them since they're never forced to take responsibility for themselves. They claim their backgrounds prohibit them from becoming useful, contributing citizens, but quite frankly, I've have three good friends who came from the worst and poorest family backgrounds and pulled themselves up by the proverbial bootstraps and have become honest, responsible, and contributing citizens. One is a lawyer, one is a paralegal, and one is a chef and all around handyman who "immigrated" from Mexico 20-something years ago at the age of 15. These individuals have proven to me that life isn't about what we're given, it's about what we make out of what we have. And until we're forced to start making something with what we've got, we'll always be looking to be given more.

Desiring the undesirable

2005-08-25T17:11:00.000-07:00

This is not an epiphany, but . . .

Why is it that the biggest hurdles in our lives - the things we most want to avoid if at all possible - are almost always the sources of our greatest pleasure? And conversely, why is it that all too often the things we want most are those things that bring the least fulfillment?

This morning I quarterbacked my first arbitration as plaintiff's attorney. Like law school exams, I wished I could just make a phone call and postpone it a day or two - heck, a week, or a month, or more. I'd rather not do it at all. Why don't these obviously responsible defendants just roll over for me? (Maybe my bar number provides an answer to that question.) Like law school exams, though, I couldn't get out of it. Someday I'll do my first jury trial, and I'm sure I'll feel the same way. It's that feeling that I don't want to ever handle another litigation file. It's that not-so-euphoric experience of desiring to go jump off a bridge. A really, really, really tall one.

While the arbitrator's award isn't in yet, I feel really great about the way it went. Not so much because I think my client will get everything he wants as because I did a good job, stayed calm, and felt on top of the game. Which is exactly what it is - a game. Sure, people's lives are significantly affected by it, but it's still a game. It's not life. Christ is life. It's not reality in the ultimate sense. It has no eternal significance. So, it's a game. Opposing counsel, G. Russell Clark from Kenney & Markowitz, a big-time San Francisco aviation firm, is a little like the legal equivalent of Kobe Bryant; kinda shady, but not a bad player. Taking him on wasn't half as bad as I expected, though.

But back to my premise. Now that the arbitration is over, I feel like litigation, arbitration, mediation, trial - whatever comes my way - I'm ready for it - and I want the challenge.

It's those daunting things in life that, when we deny our base desires to avoid them, and confront them head on, bring the greatest sense of achievement, fulfillment, pleasure. It's those simple things like going to the gym, tackling a new hike, accepting criticism, daring heartbreak. And it's denying those things we desire - I doubt Carl's Jr. or Burger King would agree with me on that point, but that's okay. :) It's in denying the sinful urges to follow the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the boastful pride of life - denying the urge to make myself "happy" - that brings true happiness.

So, push yourself past that last boundary. Ride the biggest rollercoaster you can find. Skip that next piece of cake. Take up your cross and follow Him down that path of certain uncertainty. It'll be retrospectively one of the greatest things you've ever done.

There's the paradox. Doing what we don't want is more enjoyable than doing what we do. And for all my bloviating on the matter, I cannot even offer a postulation as to why. Naturally, any postulations from my readership are hereby solicited. :)

-Jonathan

"There exists in the economy and course of nature, an indissoluble union between virtue and happiness; between duty and advantage; between the genuine maxims of an honest and magnanimous policy, and the solid rewards of public prosperity and felicity; since we ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which Heaven itself has ordained." --George Washington

Doing the unexpected

2005-08-15T12:40:00.000-07:00

For a change . . . I thought I'd drop in and just mention how life is going in general . . . for those of you who used to know me, and for those who still think they do. :)

Since moving to California with little more than the clothes on my back and an old but reliable car, which I managed to wreck a few months after moving out, a lot of water has passed under the proverbial bridge. The first few months out here (July '03 - December '03), I spent covering court appearances for other attorneys, doing landscaping, and searching for permanent work. For various reasons, it was the most difficult time of my life, but not altogether unenjoyable. (Doesn't God always turn our sorrow into joy if we allow Him to? What a picture of heaven.) I learned a heck of a lot about life, people, and what it means to be reliant on God. It was actually a beautiful time. When things seemed like they couldn't get any worse, I was on my way to a job interview at a bakery and wrecked my car. Not being able to afford to fix it, I took off the broken parts and kept driving it for a month or so until I upgraded to an '85 Volvo that leaked transmission fluid like like a siv and had no A/C.

Between January and March of 2004, I worked at Pacific Justice Institute in Sacramento as its staff attorney. While the experience there was a mixed bag, it was definitely interesting and I got to meet and work with a lot of great people. In March, 2004, I started transitioning from PJI into a solo practice arrangement with the attorneys I now work with. In June, I bought a new car (a silver Honda Accord V6 with black leather and the bells & whistles) and in September we moved into a new office building. Somehow I ended up our suite's second floor corner office. Both of the attorneys I work with are Christians and having access to their resources and knowledge is an absolute blessing. When I consider where I was a few years ago and where I am today, I am literally awed.

This summer, I started taking flying lessons and will likely fly solo for the first time this weekend. Flying's a trip, no pun intended. Eventually, I'd like to get a plane of my own for both business and personal use.

On the church front, our guitar-playing Sunday School worship leader left single life a couple weeks ago and is moving on to the young married's group, so it look like I'll be trying to fill his shoes for a while.

Since buying a new tennis racquet a month or so ago, I've been getting out and playing with friends pretty regularly. Matt McReynolds, a Georgia native who now works at Pacific Justice Institute, is my most common enemy on the courts. It's a good thing I'm not a sore loser when I play with him, 'cuz I'd be really sore by now if I was. :)

Along with a ton of other literature I've read lately, I read "The Great Divorce" by C.S. Lewis the other day. A very interesting book it is (my best Yoda impersonation there). While I think his metaphoric approach could create some confusion among young Christians, there are some excellent points in the book. One of my favorite illustrations in the book was that of the artist visiting heaven, seeing its glory, and in his artistic ambition, failing to accept and recognize heaven's reality. How applicable that illustration is to our own lives. How often we take the ministry God has given us and become obsessed with the ministry itself, and not with Him who has given it to us. Our love for Him is derailed in the daily jungle of life's tracks and we end up pouring our lives into an empty shell named "ministry," "employment," "acheivement," or such like, rather than into the Creator for Whom those goals and occupations should bring glory.

And, for one last morsel of news, I decided to try a full goatee and have been getting a lot of positive feedback - mostly from females. I found that interesting. I'm still in the "demo" mode and haven't decided yet whether or not to keep it. Comments are welcome - pro and con.

And there you have it, the condensed version of two years of my life.

2005-07-21T21:50:00.000-07:00

Clothespin tree

2005-07-21T21:49:00.000-07:00

Telescope tree

2005-07-21T21:46:00.000-07:00

David and me

2005-07-21T21:43:00.000-07:00

David

2005-07-21T21:37:00.000-07:00

Melody & Hannah

2005-06-30T10:36:00.000-07:00

"Contemplate the mangled bodies of your countrymen, and then say, 'What should be the reward of such sacrifices?' ... If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude than the animating contest of freedom, go from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains sit lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen!" --Samuel Adams

Thank you Justice Kennedy

2005-06-24T10:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's Kelo decision by the Supreme Court was as result of Justice Kennedy flip-flopping over to the left on the issue of property rights. The essence of this decision is that wealthy developers now have almost unlimited access to force unwilling individuals to sell their property if the sale is approved by a city council that finds the sale to be in the best interest of the community. It is a sweeping change that truly undermines the foundations of our free enterprise system of equal opportunity and private property ownership. The potential abuse of this new power by cities and developers is staggering.

Anna Karenina

2005-06-14T17:56:00.000-07:00

I recently finished Leo Tolstoy's provocative look at Russian society near the turn of the century, "Anna Karenina." For those of you who haven't read it, I highly encourage doing so. I don't consider myself a huge reader, but thankfully there are audio books these days and I was able to make it through that mega-work in only a month or so. (If you know me, you know I have many books sitting around half finished, so this is quite the accomplishment, if I may so shower accolades on myself.)

Tolstoy begins with the famous proposition that "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Actually, he begins with the epigraph: "Vengeance is mine; I will repay." Those propositions are dually and integrally woven into the theme, which, ultimately, appears to be that in the eternal struggle between self-will and God's ordered design, the pursuit of selfish desires inevitably leads to unhappiness and ruin, while those who recognize an ordered existence greater than self - and respect that order - will find meaning and happiness. That simple explanation, however, offers no justice to the depth of the book. Throughout, there are numerous issues of great significance in Tostoy's day - many of which continue to be important social issues - that are debated in great detail, with very stimulating and persuasive arguments for each position. What I found most stunning, though, was the incredible accuracy and detail in the character studies and interior monologue of the plot's main characters. Sometimes offering multiple chapters to describe a few hours of an ordinary day, Tolstoy often leaves little room for conjecture, describing even the innermost thoughts in minutia. (On occassion, he even offers a brief monologue on behalf of Levin's hound dog, which I found to be rather entertaining.) Unlike another famous Russian author, Tolstoy's minute character depictions are not only plausible, but stunningly accurate, and leave the reader with a the truest sense of identification in a fresh world they regret to close the pages to.

A thorough and excellent review of the book can be found here.

Favorite non-words

2005-06-08T10:37:00.000-07:00

According to Merriam-Webster.com, the top 10 favorite words that aren't in the dictionary are:

1. ginormous (adj): bigger than gigantic and bigger than enormous

2. confuzzled (adj): confused and puzzled at the same time

3. woot (interj): an exclamation of joy or excitement

4. chillax (v): chill out/relax, hang out with friends

5. cognitive displaysia (n): the feeling you have before you even leave the house that you are going to forget something and not remember it until you're on the highway (My personal favorite)

6. gription (n): the purchase gained by friction: "My car needs new tires because the old ones have lost their gription."

7. phonecrastinate (v): to put off answering the phone until caller ID displays the incoming name and number

8. slickery (adj): having a surface that is wet and icy

9. snirt (n): snow that is dirty, often seen by the side of roads and parking lots that have been plowed

10. lingweenie (n): a person incapable of producing neologisms

Like words that have recently preceded them into the dictionary, watch their stock. I'd buy call options for these.

Why is it?

2005-05-26T22:14:00.000-07:00

Why is it that I lose my best blog posts ever because of server errors? (In case you're wondering, these were the posts that never appeared, which is arguably why they were the best ones ever.)

Unfortunately, this isn't such a post. At lunch today [Ed. you may have noticed that I have especially enlightened thoughts when I eat, which is one of the reasons I try to eat often; in the words of Descartes, vesco ergo sum - "I eat, therefore I am." Or, you may not have noticed that.] /hijack As I was saying, at lunch today, the thought occurred to me that it didn't make a lot of sense for me to be spending $8.83 for a plate of food I didn't order, didn't need, and that wasn't all that good. So, I sold my undivided interest in the yet-unserved plate of food to the patrons at the table next to me for $7.50 and walked out feeling like I had made the healthy choice. Actually, it wasn't quite like that. As I sat in the car afterward, trying digest the taco that was supposed to have been a burrito and contemplated the restaurant's service in general, I concluded that: 1) I would try not to eat there again, but then realized I didn't have any other conclusions (though a few hypotheses) and had to ditch the list idea.

Life goes on. I'm currently finishing my second Russian Lit read: "Anna Karenina," by Leo Tolstoy. This guy was a genius. I have never read any book that so accurately catches and snapshots human personalities, strengths, weaknesses, and prejudices across so wide a spectrum of classes. It's been a long time since I read Dickens, but I think Tolstoy leaves him far behind. Maybe writing 1000+ pages instead of 300 helps, but every one of the 1000+ is worth reading.

Dear Mark,

2005-05-04T19:56:00.000-07:00

From young ladies everywhere.

Lunchtime in America

2005-04-08T12:15:00.000-07:00

I sit here enjoying an array of foods that the Queen of Sheba would have marveled at. Solomon may have had quantity, but this is variety!

Thanks to my favorite place in the world to shop, Trader Joe's, I am now free to dine on fresh sushi (well, California Rolls - kinda like Tex-Mex, only it's Cal-Jap or something) with Wasabi and Ginger.

Next, I make a quick venture from Japan over to Greece, where I enjoy a delicious Greek Salad, heavy on the feta, and, thanks to American obesity, I can, unlike the Greeks, top my salad with low fat dressing.

And finally, I end my feast with good ol' hometown organic yogurt with plump, sweet, juicy blackberries freshly imported from southern Mexico. (That's pretty much anywhere south of San Diego.) Doubtless those unfortunate berry-growers were well trained here in California before being deported, but I digress. Besides, it's not like they ever actually get deported . . .

In 30 minutes of sitting in front of my computer and staring out the window at a rather dismal day, my taste buds have been virtually transported around the world. And all at half the fat, to boot. What a time to live in.

Did I mention my Columbian coffee or my Italian tea?

Vincent van Gogh

2005-03-30T11:14:00.000-08:00

It must be the anniversary of van Gogh's death or something. For the past two days, Google.com has been using a rendition of his "Starry Night" on its website.

It amazes me how many people are infatuated with so-called "modern art." Not being especially familiar with the development of this stuff, I decided to give van Gogh the benefit of the doubt and do a little research on him to figure out what he was all about. You know, "what's the deep, esoteric meaning underlying this deceptively simplistic and curiously abstract profundity called, merely, 'art.'"

A quick Google search (is this starting to sound like a Google infomercial?) revealed enough about the artist to fully explain his style. Sadly, it seems van Gogh was doomed from the start, born exactly one year after his stillborn older brother, also named "Vincent." (Come on, mom, what were you thinking!)

Throughout life, van Gogh was notoriously unsuccessful in his relationships with women. My guess is that the paranoid schizophrenia was a turn-off. Or, it could have just been they didn't fully appreciate his overtures. Once, in a gallant attempt to prove his undying love for his cousin, van Gogh tried to burn himself with an oil lamp. Her father coldly blew it out. Another time, after cutting off part of his left ear in an effort to stop the voices in his head, our loverboy presented the now-detached organ to a woman, insisting it was a priceless gift. (He may have had more foresight than I can give him credit for.) She was apparently unappreciative and refused his offer, though I doubt she was unaffected by it.

van Gogh wasn't even much of a success at suicides. The first time he tried it he had his painting privileges taken away. (In those days, eating tubes of oil paint was considered a sign of mental instability rather than artistic expression.) On July 27, 1890, van Gogh again tried to kill himself by shooting himself in the chest. He then went back to the inn where he was staying and went to bed. Apparently, there were no Kavorkians around in those days to help him out. A couple days and a siezure later, van Gogh took another step in his sad life.

"Sad" really is the best description of van Gogh's life, his choices, and yes, his art, the secret of which we should briefly consider. In his own words, "I throw myself headlong into my work, and come up again with my studies; if the storm within gets too loud, I take a glass too much to stun myself." Aha! Eureka! The secret to artistic success! To make matters worse, the glass he is referring to was often absinthe, a drink that combines the potency of hard liquor with both the thrill of a dangerous poison and a trip as exciting as any other drug's. Perhaps his absinthe-induced psychotic wanderings were the source of those halos and aurorae depicted in so many of his works.

Not so random thought of the day:

If history tells us anything, chances are good that a hundred years from now, everyone will recognize the name of that ragged bum you tripped on in the streets of San Francisco, while your memory will be a page lost in the wind.

Why is it that the same people who have such a fascination with and appreciation for the abstract drug-induced "art" of a one-eared suicidal psychopath are the same people who caustically dismiss the incredible order and unspeakable intricacies of creation as being merely a product of chance? Why do they go to such lengths to finding meaning in a world of unreality, when reality is sitting, unexplored, on their doorsteps? What are they running from?

Graffiti artist adds to NY museum collections

2005-03-24T16:32:00.000-08:00

According to Reuters, a graffiti artist known only as "Banksy" was inspired by his sister's lack of appreciation for his art to hangs several of his pieces in famous museums around New York city. The pieces, which were hung with strong glue, were displayed for up to several days before being noticed. Read the MSNBC report.

No Fear

2005-03-24T10:21:00.000-08:00

A couple years ago, it was hard to make it through a day without seeing at least one t-shirt or bumpersticker grandly proclaiming "No Fear."

(Sidenote: they were such popular items, that even Congress and President Bush decided to jump on the No Fear bandwagon with the No Fear Act of 2002.)

Fearlessness quickly became the "in" thing. Today, Fear Factor, and shows like it, are some of the most popular shows on prime time. Ironically, it seems a large percentage of those who proclaim their own fearlessness are inordinately fixated on fear, and their own alleged lack thereof. It's amazing the things people will do to prove that they have no fear.

"I dare you." Those three words from our childhood invoke a panoply of images, thoughts, and fears. Yet, intellectual honesty reveals that actions based on dares really didn't arise from a lack of fear, but rather an embracing of fear.

Someone should come out with t-shirt that says "I love fear." It would be more accurate that those other ones.

Really, there's only one way to be fearless. That is to truly love.

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love." 1 Jn. 4:18

Imagine yourself on your death bed looking back on your life, and looking foward to the future. Were you afraid to love? When you stare death in the face, will you have peace in your heart, knowing that Love conquered fear in your life? Let the love of Christ conquer you and conquer your fear of men. Then, you will truly have no fear.

Kindergarten Cops

2005-03-18T16:10:00.000-08:00

"A 5-year-old girl was arrested, cuffed and put in back of a police cruiser. . ." Moments after her arrest, the suspect was quoted as saying, "I don't want to go to jail." Read more.

Some of my recent excursions

2005-03-17T14:50:00.000-08:00

Below are a few pictures taken last week when my sister and a friend were visiting from Texas. We visited the coast north of San Francisco, including Bodega Bay and Fort Ross. The girls then spent three days playing in the snow at Yosemite and I went down for one day to document their exploits, as you will see below. Later on, we spent a day in San Francisco and finished out the week with a gold mine tour (not pictured), a drive through Tahoe (not pictured), and a little snow sledding (definitely not pictured).

2005-03-17T14:47:00.000-08:00

Yard sale. Notice the steep terrain. :-)

2005-03-17T14:46:00.000-08:00

First day on the slopes

2005-03-17T14:43:00.001-08:00

Fort Ross

2005-03-17T14:43:00.000-08:00

Bodega Bay

2005-03-17T14:42:00.001-08:00

Golden Gate at dusk

2005-03-17T14:42:00.000-08:00

Fish for dinner

2005-03-17T14:41:00.000-08:00

Riding the cable car line

2005-02-16T20:25:00.000-08:00

So I just "borrowed" this from another blog. Enjoy. It makes me feel homesick for the good country.

Rules in the Southern States

If you are going to live in or visit the South, you need to know the rules.In an effort to help outsiders understand the rules of the Southerner's mind,the following list will be handed to each person as they enter a SouthernState.(These actually should be the rules in all states.)

1.That farm boy you see at the gas station did more work before
breakfast that you do all week at the gym.

2.It's called a "gravel road." No matter how slow you drive,
you're going to get dust on your Lincoln Navigator. Drive if or get out
of the way!

3.The red dirt – it’s called clay. Red clay. If you like the
color, don’t wash your car for a couple of weeks – it’ll be permanent.

4. We all started hunting and fishing when we were seven years old.Yeah, we
saw that Bambi movie, too.We got over it the first time we tasted fried
deer steak.

5.Go ahead and bring your $600 Orvis fly rod.Don’t cry to us if a flathead (that’s a catfish) breaks it off at the handle.We have a name for those little 13-inch trout you fish for…bait.

6. Pull your pants up! You look like an idiot.

7. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of mallards are making their final approach, we will shoot it. You might want to ensure it’s not up to your ear at the time.

8. No, there’s no “Vegetarian Special” on the menu. Order steak. Order It rare. Or, you can order the Chef’s Salad and pick off the two pounds of ham and turkey.

9. Tea – yeah, we have tea. It comes in a glass over ice and it’s sweet. You want it hot? Set it in the sun. You want it unsweetened? Add a lot of water.

10. You bring Coke into my house,it better be brown, wet, and served over ice!

11. You have a sixty-thousand-dollar car. We’re real impressed.We have a quarter of a million-dollar combine that we only use two weeks a year.

12. Let’s get this straight.We have one stoplight in town. We stop when its red. We may even stop when it’s yellow.

13. We eat dinner together with our families. We pray before we eat – yeah, even breakfast.We go to church on Wednesdays and Sundays, and we go to high school football games on Friday nights. We still address our seniors with “yes, sir” and “yes, ma’am,” and we sometimes still take Sunday drives around town to see friends and neighbors.

14. We don’t do “hurry up” well.

15. Greens – yeah, we have greens, but you don’t putt on them.You boil them with salty fatback, bacon, or a smoked hamhock.

16. Yeah we eat catfish, bass, and bream. You really want sushi and caviar? It’s available down at the bait shop.

17. They are pigs. That’s what the smell like.Get over it. Don’t like it? Interstate I-65 goes two ways.Interstate 20 goes the other two. Pick one.

18. Grits are corn. You put butter, salt, and maybe even some pepper (or cheddar cheese and bacon) on them. If you want to put milk and sugar on them, then you want cream of wheat - go to Kansas. That would be I-40 West.

19. The “Opener” refers to the first day of deer season or dove season. Both are holidays. You can get pancakes, cane syrup, and sausage before daylight at the church on either day.

20. So every person in every pickup truck waves? Yeah, it’s called being friendly. Understand the concept?

21. Yeah, we have golf courses. Don’t hit the water hazards.It spooks the fist and bothers the gators – and, if you hit it in the rough, we have these things called diamondbacks, and they’re not baseball players.

22. That Highway Patrol Officer that just pulled you over for driving like and idiot –his name is “Sir,” no matter how young he is.

23. We have pine trees. The have sap. It drips from them. You park your Navigator under them,and they’ll leave a souvenir on your hood.

24. You burn an American flag in our state, you get beat up. No questions. The liberal contingent of our state legislature – all four of them – enacted a measure to stop this. There is now a $2.50 fine for beating up the flag burner.

Microsoft/Phizer rise to the occassion

2005-02-10T09:12:00.000-08:00

Finally, the free market goes to work. This time, the spammers are going down. Government regulation of spam hasn't seemed to help my inbox much, but I suspect this litigation will. Wouldn't you know it? It's the free market that comes through once again.

The genius of Bruckner

2005-02-02T10:51:00.000-08:00

So this is probably common knowledge to many of you classical music buffs, but Anton Bruckner was genius. Symphony No. 0: with that simple title, Bruckner took the least honored number of the Arabic system and revealed its beauty and value.

In the numbers continuum, zero generally gets no respect. In fact, unless it is preceded by some other number(s), it is typically despised. I mean, who wants to be a zero? A "zero" is a nothing, a nobody, it's someone or something associated with the most meaningless number in the world. Does zero deserve this maltreatment?

Apparently Anton Bruckner didn't think so. He saw the veiled worth of the unloved number. He saw that deep within, "zero" has immense significance far beyond what most of us ever dream. Without zero, numbers would have no meaning, but would be lost in a sea of relativism and insignificance. Without zero, men would have no standard to measure by. Without zero, chaos.

Zero is the standard that holds all numbers in check. It is the point at which the infinite numbers continuum is balanced. Zero is the only number absolutely necessary to the mathematical system, and hence, the most important.

Anton Bruckner recognized the incredible worth of this powerful number and used it appropriately as the name of one of his most beautiful symphonies. A symphony which, like its number, seemingly provides life to all others.*

*This post is acknowledged to be revisionist history (or historical fiction, if you prefer) and, aside from the name of the composer and a common name for his unnamed D-minor symphonies, the statements, opinions, motives, and arguments herein are the author's creation only. However, if Bruckner had thought this thing through, he most certainly would have agreed with me.

2005-01-25T22:33:00.000-08:00

After recuperating from numerous things that needed recuperation from, and getting somewhat caught up on work, I have a moment to share a few more of my innermost thoughts with you all, my faithful blog-reading audience.

I could tell you about what I did today, or I could tell you about what I didn't do. I could tell you about what I thought today, or about what I didn't think, though of course that would be impossible because, of course, I would have to think of something I didn't think to state what I didn't think and I would thence make myself Jim Carrey, or something.

Speaking of "or something," isn't that a great line? I love that line. It's almost the ultimate catch-all vague and ambiguous phrase, only slightly superseded by "that's interesting."

Of course, we all know that maybe it truly wasn't interesting, and the very interest derived from whatever it was came from the deep contemplation of how utterly un-interesting it actually was. Again, we have a terrible anomaly. That which by virtue of being uninteresting becomes interesting. I love thinking about this stuff.

But I digress from the original ideas behind this post. Or maybe I don't. Sometimes I wonder if anyone even reads my posts. I mean, obviously they do, or else I wouldn't write them, right? (See, my logic is impeccable.) Not that I would blame you for not reading my posts. (But, of course, the only people to whom this forgiveness is extended will never know - at least not from reading it here.)

Nevertheless, to again attempt to return to a footing more solidly founded on substantive thoughts and actions, I will make effort.

Lately, I've been reading John MacArthur's book "Ashamed of the Gospel: when the church becomes like the world." It's a great book and highly recommended to all of you. The driving concept behind the book seems to be that the fear of God should be more thoroughly considered and meditated on in our lives individually and as a corporate church. With the modern day church growth movements that encourage "user-friendly" philosophies that stand in clear contradiction to the church growth movements of the early church, there is a definite need for a return to sound doctrine and godliness. No longer is the sinner afraid of the wrath of God, nor does he stand in awe in God's presence. Rather, the sinner is given a watered down version of the Gospel, and his church attendance is quickly noted. In response, MacArthur made a statement that I found profound, yet simple, and which I have been thinking a lot on: "it's not what men think about the severity of God; it's what God thinks about the iniquity of men." The very sinfulness of sin has become almost a joke, even among many professing believers. We have become accustomed to living like the world, and in fact enjoy it. As a result, we are uncomfortable confronting sin as Christ did, but instead work on creating a palatable Gospel and the fear of God is lost on us. However, a proper fear of God must be in our hearts, or we will never truly love Him for his mercy, and without love for Him, we will never serve Him, and if we fail to serve Him, we fail Him and will not hear "well done."

When I realize, to the extent my incredibly finite mind can do so, the infinite majesty of God's power, I stand in awe. What pleasures of this world hold the smallest candle to the pleasure of hearing Him say "well done"? Those who lay up for themselves treasures of this world are bound to the wood, hay and stubble that will certainly burn. May God cut those bonds from each of our hearts, and release us to unfettered devotion to Him.

To whom much is given, much is required. I have squandered much time in the pursuit of fleshly desires, fun, and entertainment. At the risk of plagiarizing Solomon, this too I have found to be vanity. We have been given much. May we fear Him and love Him as He desires.

It is my hope that you have been encouraged by this post. Thanks for reading.

The next post may deal with my thoughts on the majesty of the universe, the grandess of creation, and yet, the recognition that of all God's creation, we are His prize, His truest pleasure, and the only created being with the power to fellowship with Him. If you ask me, that's a humbling thought.

Musings on the greatness of God

2004-12-23T23:21:00.000-08:00

I'm writing from my old bedroom, home of many memories.
As I write, I listen to Bach's Choral "Nun Komm' der Heiden Heiland." Enter: the reflective mood. I contemplate the brevity of life on this earth, the speed at which it is lived, and the memories that fade as we pass them by. As I was flying into Phoenix, then Albuquerque, then Midland (yes, Midland, as in Midland/Odessa, Texas), the view was magnificent, with much of the plain coated with a fine blanket of powder. Everything below looked so small. And I wondered. How small are we, really? God, who created all of this universe, and the infinite universe beyond our comprehension, is incomprehensibly Awesome. Truly, He alone is deserves that title.

Today I enjoy one of the days that He, in his mercy, has granted to me. Yet, so easily do I lose consciousness of the reality that every day I live is truly a magnificent gift of the Almighty. So easily do I get caught up in the trappings of this life and allow the little foxes to steal the treasures of heaven that lie just beyond my sight and grasp. So easily do I let relational fires sputter as I single-mindedly run the race to obtain that which makes empty promises to satisfy and please. As a member of the body of Christ, it's almost always easier for me to choose to be (or at least pretend to be) the appendix, than it is to look at fellow humans with the awe-inspired sense of compassion that comes from true recognition of our God's magnitude, majesty, and love. As with Christian and Hopeful in The Pilgrim's Progress, it's hard to take the difficult road, when an easier path appears to run parallel to it. Only when, a fair distance down the path, we are faced with life's storms do we realize there is a great fence separating the path we chose from the true path of life. It is then that we must retrace our path with tears and seek the true way.

My prayer for today is that: a) the desire for ease and the pursuit of personal gain will never control my life, and b) I will bask in the greatness of the Lord, and serve those around me with reverence and adoration for the One who gives each of us life.

Stuck

2004-12-15T15:47:00.000-08:00

I'm enjoying the privilege of working an 80 hr. week and wondering if this is a mine and not a tunnel. I can't see any light yet, but I can't complain about the gold. I am probably going to go insane soon. Send your condolences to my family and your money to my mental institution. Hoping to get back out to Tahoe before the snow melts.

Civil War Revisited

2004-12-11T13:43:00.000-08:00

I never realized the direct affect the Civil War would have on my life. But here I am, a Texan by birth, torn in the century and a half old struggle betwixt the north and south. It all started when my brother asked for a Civil War sword for Christmas and I went online to look for one. Half an hour later, I'm still sitting here struggling with the decision. Do I buy the Union version or the Confederate? After all, some of the Confederate blood that was shed belonged to our ancestry. But he asked for a Union sword. Yet, Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson are heroes of the faith. Of course, rebels have taken advantage of the Civil War banner and those favoring the South tend to have a rebellious streak . . .

Light Filters

2004-12-04T09:16:00.000-08:00

The blinds for my new office were finally installed yesterday. Since I have a second floor office on the southwest corner of a new office building (with no trees), and about 50% of my walls are composed of glass, the last month of working in the sun - all day long - has been somewhat of a small trial. However, I did hang Persian rugs over the windows to block the sun. Or maybe those were trash bags. Whatever.

Now that the blinds have been hung, however, I'm not so enthralled with them either. While they do block a lot of the sun, they're the see-through variety and the sun at this moment is heating the back of my neck and creating shadows on my computer screen. Oh well . . .

As was contemplating these matters, I thought of an analogy to spiritual life. We hang blinds in our hearts and minds to filter the Light of Truth. It's not that we want to block it out entirely; yet without the filters, its light blinds us and its heat cuts through our flesh. The filters provide a way for us to be warmed and to be in the presence of the Light without experiencing its full convicting power. I, for one, am guilty.

"This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." John 1:5-7

Power to the People

2004-11-23T23:12:00.000-08:00

Capitalism works. This week has seen two of the most prominent news anchors of my generation leave the professional careers that made them famous. I suspect we all find the latter resignation the more interesting one. Apparently, CBS and Dan Rather agreed last summer that the best time for his resignation would be after the November 2 election of W. Bush. While I find it doubtful that a Bush election was an explicit term of the resignation agreement, I'd like to imagine Mr. Rather throwing his weight and trying to convince top CBS execs that his little snafu earlier this year really worked in Kerry's favor, and trying to convince them to let him stay on as anchor if Kerry won the election. I guess he'd also then need to explain why his subtle and not-so-subtle biases over the years have placed CBS convincingly in the bottom slot of the ratings race among non-cable news organizations, and why young voters seem to have much more confidence in the honesty of Comedy Central host Jon Stewart than in Dan Rather.

What I find intriguing is that Rather is going to stick around as a 60 Minutes correspondent. Hey Dan, take a hint, it's time to get out of the business. Cut your losses and run. Go hang out with your buddy Michael Moore. I guess CBS finally mustered enough chutzpah to push him out of the anchor role, but didn't have the heart to fire him altogether. After several decades as a news anchor, I guess Rather has earned enough professional capital to pretty much go or stay where he chooses.

Yet, not even several decades of professional capital were enough to overcome the will of the people. Capitalism rules.

P.S. For fair and balanced reporting . . . you already know where to go.

Much Ado About Nothing

2004-11-13T11:30:00.000-08:00

Well, last night I attended my first Shakespearean play, presented by the Patrick Henry College students in Purcelville, Virginia. Aside from being incredibly amused by the actors' seeming inability to suppress half-cracked smiles that may or may not have been part of the performance, I was very impressed with the quality of the presentation. It's interesting that such passive pleasure as I experienced could be derived from much ado about nothing. Or, for that matter, that such gleefulness as was exhibited all around last night could be derived from such tragedy. Ahh, the perverse society we live in!

Beltway Boy

2004-11-11T00:46:00.000-08:00

This morning, as I passed by the Pentagon in my red rental car, I experienced a very surreal feeling. You know, the "I've gotta pinch myself" feeling. After 17 years as a politically active American citizen (my first bumpersticker was a Bush/Quayle sticker in 1987, which I put on my bicycle), I finally made my first pilgrimage to the epicenter of American politics, and in a very real way, the epicenter of world evolution. Appropriately enough, this pilgrimage is closely associated with the Mayflower. The Mayflower hotel, that is.

As I sit here at Starbucks, about three blocks from the White House, I feel strangely drawn to this city, like a homing pigeon at the end of its journey. Maybe it's the novelty of the experience, or it could be the politically and intellectually stimulating nature of the Federalist Society convention I am attending, yet, the lure seems almost tangible - like a magnetic power beyond my control.

Like the Pilgrims of 1620, only a few survive the brutal social and politcal environment of this city. But those who will succeed cannot be deterred by failure. If pulled as hard as it is pushed, the great saw of change will eventually make its cut into even the toughest wood. Whether from an office just south of Sacramento, California, or from a ranch in Texas, or from a home in downtown D.C., may I have the courage of conviction to pull the saw of truth as hard as I push.

A scary Specter

2004-11-05T09:46:00.000-08:00

According to recent news releases, the recently re-elected Senator for Pennsylvania, Arlen Specter, may be the next chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee. Such a selection could well undo much of the progress that was made, and cripple the efforts of those who seek a strict constructionist judiciary, however.

Personally, I don't think it's unreasonable to ask that Justices appointed to our highest court to interpret our nation's constitution, do just that: interpret it, and interpret it as it is written, not as they may wish it was written.

Senator Specter, on the other hand, has indicated by his past words and actions that he will impose a litmus test to prevent conservative nominees, such as Robert Bork, from being ever getting past the judiciary committee. In describing himself, Specter said: "I would characterize myself as moderate; I'm in the political swim. I would look for justices who would interpret the Constitution, as Cardozo has said, reflecting the values of the people."

Whatever does that mean? "Reflecting the values of the people" - wait a sec, Arlen, didn't you just say you would look for justices who would interpret the Constitution? Does that mean the Constitution is a "living" document, which easily warps to appease the will of the majority?

If men like Arlen Specter continue to get their way, as they have for much of the past century, our Constitution will soon be little more than a hollow document, echoing the whims of whomever it is currently manipulated by. The ramifications of diluting our seminal document like this are scary.

Hopefully the Senate Republicans not be bullied by one of the leftist members of the party, will stand up for those who laid down their lives for this nation, and will choose a judiciary chairman who supports the constitution, and will not denigrate its authority.

Au revoir, Mr. Daschle

2004-11-03T13:38:00.000-08:00

This election season, voters across America voiced their desire for change in no uncertain terms. While many, including myself, were predicting a so-so election result for Republicans, the outcome of this election rivals the Congressional take-over of 1994 as one of the greatest Republican victories of the last century. True, Republicans didn't pick up that many seats, and merely held on to the White House. Yet, in an election where Democrats were supposedly going to take the White House and possibly retake the Senate, the victories are huge.

One of the most thrilling victories of this election cycle to me personally, is that in the South Dakota Senate race. Tom Daschle, the outspoken Senate Minority Leader was tried in the balance by South Dakotan voters, who finally found him wanting. This victory for the Republicans is much bigger than a victory for one Senate seat. It's a defeat of one of the most prolific instigators of political faction in Washington. In hard numbers, it's just one seat, but in practicality, it's a victory that will likely give at least a few Democrats more freedom to vote freely, particularly on some of the qualified judicial nominees selected by the President.

Thanks, Tom, for your service, but it is with great glee that I bid thee au revoir.

Got Snow?

2004-10-28T18:57:00.000-07:00

Whoopee! Four feet of snow just blanketed the Lake Tahoe area ski resorts and the ski season is officially underway, with one resort opening last week, and the nearest resort opening tomorrow at noon.

The first time I skied - less than two years ago, I found myself in various and sundry places and positions of less than flattering quality, particularly in close proximity to the lifts. After a few more trips, however, I finally learned how to stand in line without falling over, and now proudly pronounce my practice a rousing success. In all seriousness, I've happily gotten steadily better (trust me, I was awful the first couple times out), and now thoroughly enjoy hitting the slopes, er . . . skiing the slopes.

In other news, the weather out here is incredible right now, with temps in the 60's during the day, with sunny skies. The only problem with that is that it makes it hard to get much work done, especially when sitting in the window office. :-\

It's a cold world

2004-10-11T20:05:00.000-07:00

Blogger awakes as faint light begins to filter in with a rather cold chill through the dark mesh screen separating his repose from the harsh reality of human degradation lying not too far beyond his bedroom window. Drawing his covers over his head in an attempt to snatch one more moment of innocent peace before facing the day, Blogger feels that the warmth offered by mere cotton blankets leaves the warmth offered by the vast masses of humanity somewhere near the Titanic's icy grave.

Blogger drives through the mindless masses of drivers making their way to the city like ants compelled to strive endlessly and without conscious purpose until their dying day.

One deposition down. One to go.

Blogger feels the cravings of nature directing him feed his appetite. Blogger drives back and forth like a disoriented bumblebee seeking a parking spot. Finally sighting an exiting vehicle, Blogger allows emotional excitement to begin to stir, but as he nears, he is greeted by mocking blue sign marked with a “disabled” symbol. Blogger notes the empty space is littered with filth left by the resident pigeons, along with chewing gum that appears to have been disgarded in another era.

Blogger recalls two individuals he has known who took their own lives and wonders if this is how they saw the world.

(Note: This post was written by an optimistic Blogger and does not reflect Blogger's true feelings. Blogger also acknowledges this post may have been influenced by watching the movie Croupier.)

Downhill mountain biking

2004-10-09T09:45:00.000-07:00

Recently I discovered a new and easy way to experience certain joys that should probably not be sought out by those without good health care plans.

A friend and I took our mountain bikes to Northstar at Tahoe and rode the ski lifts up to the ridge before biking down some of the roughest trails I've ever been on. I was amazed to see most of the other riders bedecked in quasi-body-armor of the fullest variety. I mean, these guys had everything from full motorbiking helmets to chest protectors, knee and shin guards, elbow and shoulder guards, full pants and shirts, and probably a few items of protection that were non-visible to external viewers.

On our one (and only) daring run down a double black diamond trail, I began to see some of the logic behind dressing like a twelfth century dude. The trails were comprised of primarily vertically situated sand, which left braking rather impotent, and there were, at semi-regular intervals, large drops with tight banking turns at the bottom. Rather than risking my life (since I still don't have health insurance), I chose to walk around some of these drops. (My prize for exercising such wisdom is that I still have a full set of teeth.) At the bottom of on of these jumps, I looked up and saw a real biker flying down fully garbed. As he was flying full speed through the air, he managed to perform a perfect bank, land, and headed off in the other direction. Impressive. And I was just trying to make it down alive.

All in all, it was a great trip, and despite spending most of our time on the single black diamond runs, we made it out alive with nothing more to show for our efforts than a few scrapes and bruises and one busted chain.

A couple of days later, we took the bikes out again to a nearer location where we rode for a few hours on some much tamer trails (despite some of them being only a couple feet wide and on the edge of a very steep cliff). This ride was also a lot of fun and a lot less nerve-wracking and body-rattling than the downhill-only jazz. And the cold mountain lake located around the halfway point made for an incredibly refreshing swim on the way back!

Life on the edge. It's more fun than any other place I've been.

How to make a cat fall in love

2004-09-21T22:31:00.000-07:00

Until earlier this year, I never had a cat, and had seldom been around them. (I cannot say that this was a great loss.) On the other hand, during my formative years, I spent a considerable amount of time with dogs. I learned that they are generally easy to please: pet them, hug them, feed them, and you become god to them. They will love you and be forever loyal to you if you do these things.

Cats, however, are different. They are very different. For example, I am not the real owner of my cat. The real owner of my cat loves my cat very much. He adopted her, feeds her, buys her toys and scratching towers, takes out her . . . well, you know, and otherwise ensures that she has a warm, safe, and clean environment. In addition, the real owner of the cat loves her very much. He seeks to cuddle her, pet her, and occassionally pick her up. For his love, he is treated with utter contempt. I believe my cat despises him.

I, on the other hand, have taken a different approach to building a deep and loving relationship with my cat. This approach does consume a fair amount of time each day, but the results are definitely worth it. It goes something like this:

11:00 pm - cat is cleared from room and door is shut. Sock is placed in door to ensure that door does not rattle when cat scratches on it.
3:00 am - cat somehow got into the room and is walking over my face. Pick cat up, toss her on the floor and tell her to go OUT.
3:05 am - cat decides to sleep on my bed. I decide cat should not sleep on bed. I get up, pick up cat, bodily remove cat from room, and shut the door.
3:45 am - cat scratches on door
3:47 am - cat is still scratching on door
3:49 am - I get up, open door, and pour water on cat. Cat runs away.
3:50-4:00 am - previous process repeated several times.
4:30 am - cat has now been in "time out" for enough time to consider how precious time with the I truly is.
5:00 am - cat returns to door, but seeks to obtain entrance through pulling at the I's heart strings by cautiously, yet plaintively, meowing outside the door belong to the I.
5:30 am - I arise and greet cat warmly, yet am careful to keep the encounter brief. I then flippantly toss her on the floor to make sure she doesn't decide to leave of her own accord.
8:00 am - after sleeping for a few more minutes, showering, eating breakfast, and having a devotion, I am ready to leave. I can't reach the cat, which is presently centrally located under my bed, so I lift the bed, frame and all, and say "OUT" in the most convincing manner possible. Cat reluctantly cooperates.
6:30 pm - I arrive home and sit down at my desk. Cat has been worriedly waiting for me all day, hoping that she has not completely fallen from my good graces. Cat attempts to win my favor by walking back and forth between my arms and my keyboard and making loud purring sounds. Cat further seeks to win my approval by sweeping her tail across my face.
6:32 pm - The I's patience is running thin. The I gently picks up cat and throws her out the door.
6:33 pm - Cat is undeterred, though a bit more concerned, and leaps onto my keyboard and sticks her pink little nose in my face.
6:34 pm - the I is touched by this show of love and responds with a little scratching of the whiskers (hers, not his).
6:35 pm - The I throws cat on floor.
6:35.25 pm - Cat jumps onto desk.
6:35.30 pm - The I removes cat from desk.
6:35.35 pm - Cat seeks alternate route, and jumps under arm onto lap, then onto desk.
6:35.40 pm - I place cat under desk and guard her with my feet. Cat responds my chewing my toes in a clear attempt to escape from confinement.
7:00 pm - Cat now has come to fully appreciate all that the I is. He is a master, a king, a ruler. He doesn't feed cat, he doesn't take out cat's litter, he doesn't pet cat. The I is truly above the dominion of cats. He is supreme, he is all powerful, he is majestic, he is the one to whom all honor is due. He is the I, incarnated in human flesh. (Actually, it's just me, but don't tell my cat.) Therefore, my cat does all my bidding, and lets me hold and pet her for hours if I so choose. In my hands she is awe-stricken and goes limp. She sits like a dog at the door and waits for me when I come home from work, and I often find her sitting outside my bedroom door in the morning. She's my cat, and she loves me. Weird animals.

Cool Parks

2004-08-26T10:15:00.001-07:00

This morning, in Sacramento County Superior Court department 39, the following conversation took place:

Judge Parks: I'm a little troubled here. As far as I can tell, the defendant has still not been served, and it's now been over a year since the case was filed.

Attorney: Your honor, I have good news.

Judge Parks (interrupting): You just saved a lot of money on car insurance?

Poolside Lessons

2004-08-23T23:54:00.000-07:00

Nah, you don't want to see it, so I won't post a pic . . . (See, the moderator of this blog does have some control over its contents, which he arbitrarily chooses to assert.) Instead of a picture, we have applied the Fleming approach to analyze the weekend's main lesson, and break it out as follows:

AVOID CONSPIRACIES: when at a party where a pool is present, avoid participating in any conspiratorial schemes that involve the premeditated tossing of an individual or individuals into said pool.

WATCH FOR LEGS: when participation in aforementioned schemes becomes inevitable (when self control, common sense, and adult behavior are overcome by the more base, or at least childish, desires), and you feel inwardly compelled to volunteer your efforts to accomplish the object of said scheme, remember to go for the head, or at least the upper portion of the target individual (hereinafter referred to as "victim"), particularly if the victim has been known to possess very athletic abilities in the thigh, calf, and knee areas, and particularly if the movement of the victim appears akin to a horizontal break dancer. Grabbing the feet of such a victim has potentially hazardous consequences, and one who does so impliedly assumes any risk associated with such hazardous behavior.

NEVER GIVE UP: never give up, even if you've been kneed in the mouth. Especially if you've been kneed in the mouth, because you should at least have something to show for it.

WATCH YOUR BACK: when you have reached the line of demarcation, the point of no return, the near culmination of the actus reus, the point where the preliminary swings have been completed and the final act of swinging and releasing is imminent . . . watch your back, particularly if you are surrounded by non-conspirators, and particularly if you are fully dressed in non-swimming apparel.

Jonathan's Thought of the Day: The lips of the wise tendeth to life, but in the mouth of fools is much pain.

Jonathan's Other Thought of the Day: Before furthering water-related conspiracies, become appropriately appareled.

This public service message has been brought to you by the partnership for an injury free America, a public non-partisan organization aimed at taking away the spice of life and creating liability for any activities that may potentially result in harm or injury to any individual.

Mission Accomplished

2004-08-16T18:43:00.001-07:00

Today I've been in recovery from an incredible weekend at Yosemite. Saturday morning, our group of eight motivated individuals set foot for what was for most of us the longest, most arduous hike of our lives. 8+ miles and 4800 feet in elevation later, we reached the top of Half Dome, one of the highest points in Yosemite at nearly 10,000 feet. At the top, there were a few energetic persons taking pictures and hiking around (it's actually quite a large area up there), but others of us pretty much collapsed and rested. Personally, I tried to cram down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a Power Bar, but the fact that we were all out of water rather hampered my efforts. After an hour or so of rest, we turned around and headed back to camp. Happily, hiking back was definitely easier than hiking up, though the descent on the cable section was pretty scary at points.

All eight of us made it to the top (and back to the valley) without injury, which in my estimation was quite amazing considering our overall fitness levels. Praise the Lord!

At this point I'd say I'm aching to go back, but maybe I'm just aching. Actually, I am looking forward to the next trip up. Cut that; I'm looking forward to the next journey up. It's beautiful up there . . . If you're interested in seeing more pics, just e-mail me at jonathanhuber@att.net and I'll send you some.

The Last Battle

2004-08-16T18:43:00.000-07:00

The final ascent to the top of Half Dome. Check out the 900 feet of cables to help the daring hiker take the top. The link is to a CNN article discussing the cable section of this trail.

Blogger camp launches massive e-mail campaign, then surrenders campaign control

2004-08-12T22:39:00.000-07:00

Today, Blogger launched a massive e-mail campaign targeted at a primarily middle class audience in a shameless attempt at drawing them into his camp on the worldwide web. While it is unclear what the response to the campaign will be, Blogger anticipates a growth in the number of average daily visits to his online existence.

Despite Blogger's strong record of campaign success through personal contact, however, Blogger acknowledged today that "I will soon be turning over control of this campaign to my grassroots volunteers. I have done all that I can do."

While Blogger's reasons for suddenly given up control of his campaign activities remain somewhat of a mystery, inside sources have reported that Blogger intends to hike the challenging Half Dome at Yosemite National Park this weekend, and will be beyond the range of all but satellite phone communication.

Stay tuned for the latest breaking news.

Day Two of the New Deal

2004-08-12T11:41:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s my second day in the domain of real, live, flesh and blood virtual humanity. It’s my second day as a real, honest to goodness blogger. It’s a bittersweet day for me. On one hand, I’m jazzed about catching up with the times, but on the other, I realize how far behind I am in the race to achieve the biggest, brightest, boldest, best blog out there. Then again, if my only purpose in life was creating the GigaBlog, said blog would probably be about as interesting to read as the care instructions on the average t-shirt.

Me, a blogger? Some things are truly amazing.

2004-08-11T22:56:00.000-07:00

8/11/04: Wow, I'm blogging! I hope to turn this boring little page into a work of art that every viewer will leave feeling enlightened and invigorated. What will I post? Everything from legal notes to musings* on the meaning of life in general and mine in particular.

I hereby embark on my voyage to the world of blogs! Grab a friend and a cup of joe and come along for the ride!

*Caveat Lector: These musings are likely to contain a fair amount of humor and sarcasm.