Some people wonder why I love basketball. Those people have not seen this:

Some/many/all of you may know that I'm taking language courses at the local community college. I won't write about my first day in detail, but know this. The German professor was organized, orderly, fairly stoic, logical, and concise. The French professor was very touchy-feely, not terribly organized, emotive, and not particularly logical (at one point suggesting that grammar is "inside you" and you just have to "let it flow out"). It will be interesting to see if these cultural stereotypes continue to be embodied in my professors/classes and to see if they rub off on the students. (I'm pretty sure I need to get back to psychological analysis...)

I haven't blogged in a few days, but I'm sure you realized that already. If you didn't realize that, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. (You can probably tell that this is going to be one of those posts where I don't really say anything). There's very little going on here. Did you hear about the 30-car pileup in Lapeer? Me either.

Last night I slept fitfully for 14 hours. You might think that seems like an oxymoron. You'd be wrong. In fact, you'd be the oxymoron. Tonight I'm going to bed early. I don't expect to sleep much. On that note, I really don't have anything more to say (not that I've said anything already). Okay then. Bye bye now.

So, I'd posted all of the above, but then I came across the following headline. "Eagle lugging deer head causes blackout" Interesting.

Today I have some sad news. A few months ago, I mentioned that a 9-year-old boy from our church was diagnosed with an inoperable and untreatable brain tumor; his doctors gave him six weeks to live. On Wednesday morning, he died.

Our pastor had this to say (via our church's website),

This morning (Wednesday) @ 7:20 AM, Anthony took his final breath here on this earth. In the hours that have followed, the reality of his death is finally beginning to sink in for me.

As I sit here at my desk, having just left the house and wanting to post something...there are two passages of Scripture from the Bible that occupy my thinking. Both are promises from God's Word:

"Can anything," the Bible writer asks, "ever separate us from Christ's love? Does it mean He no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or are hungry or cold or in danger or threatened with death?

No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from His love. Death can't, and life can't. The angels can't, and the demons can't. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, and even the powers of hell can't keep God's love away.

Whether we are high above the sky, the Bible says, or in the deepest ocean, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35, 37-39 (NLT)

Pretty cool, huh? That no matter where we are, or what we face, we cannot escape the touch and love of God. As you process Anthony's death, I can't help but ponder if you are leaning on God for strength? Are you leaning on God for comfort? Are you leaning on God for hope?

In another place the Bible says..."God loved the people of this world so much that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who has faith in Him will have eternal life and never really die." John 3:16 (CEV)

The Bible tells me that God the Father knows what it is like to have a loved one die. God watched His Son Jesus die on the cross for your sins and mine. And it says that in the same way that He lifted up Jesus, His Son from the dead…to live with Him in heaven, so too does He lift up those who believe in Jesus.

That reality causes me to ask the questions: "Do you believe in Jesus? Have You invited Jesus to have a place in your life?"

I know that Anthony loved people. I also know that he loved Jesus. Based upon the promises of God's Word, I can hold onto the hope that Anthony, like Jesus, will live in heaven for all of eternity.

In the raw moments of this hour, I confess that I may never understand fully God’s purposes...why He allows some things to happen. In the midst of the unaswered questions, I can, however, choose to believe that God is in control and that God still loves us through all of life's experiences.

Today, I am holding on to the promises of God's Word. What about you?

Today I cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the microwave. I cleaned the toaster. I cleaned the stove. I cleaned the refrigerator. I cleaned the sink. I cleaned under the sink. I cleaned the drains. I cleaned the floor. I cleaned the counter. I cleaned the dishwasher. I cleaned the kitchen.


(Note how the repetition of the phrase, "I cleaned...", reflects the repetitive nature of my day's tasks. Also note how you're bored, and yet, somehow, you're slightly satisfied that it's over. I'm sure the literary technique wasn't lost on you.)

The news: Yesterday, at a border crossing in Texas, agents found 500 bricks (1,200 pounds) of cocaine under the floorboards of a broccoli truck. The drugs were worth an estimated $40,000,000. Read the story here.

My commentary: Today's price for gold: $646 an ounce. There are 16 ounces in a pound. By my calculations, 1,200 pounds of gold is worth $12,403,200. In other words, cocaine is worth slightly more than 3 times as much as gold. Interesting.

Sarah and I planned to get a dog this weekend. As there are no pictures of dog's on either of our blog's, you'll infer that we didn't get one. Just as we were about to head to the shelter to pick out someone else's discarded and/or lost pet, I called our landlord to be sure about the pet policy; it turns out that dogs are only allowed in first floor apartments. Does that seem arbitrary? Yes. Is it arbitrary? I'm quite sure. In any case, no dog. And it's not worth it to pay $50 extra a month (the price added to rent for a pet) for a cat, so don't even think about it. Sorry all you cat lovers, you know who you are, a dog is called man's best friend for a reason.

And the answer is...

C

That's right folks, I got a nasty gash in my finger while opening a yogurt. Let me explain. This particular yogurt was a fruit-on-the-bottom type, having a plastic top as well as a foil lid underneath (in my experience the pre-stirred variety have only a foil lid, hence the distinction). In any case, with this brand of yogurt (store brand--Stater Brother's, we're coming after you...), the plastic top is very difficult to get off. The trick to a successful opening is to run your fingers under the rim of the plastic while prying upward. I've done it hundreds of times (with no ill effects, mind you), but on this unfortunate occasion, as I quickly ran my fingers under the plastic, a piece of the foil caught my middle finger (and sliced it).

Think paper cut. Think aluminum. That's right, think metal cut. The foil caught my fingertip at a slight angle, and, as it traveled through my flesh, it cut deeper and deeper. All the fingers on my left hand have thick callouses from playing the guitar, but I don't think they offered any sort of protection: the foil slashed through the callous (nearly lopping it off), and cut deeply into the skin underneath. After three days, it's finally starting to heal and is no longer an open wound. Yogurt eaters beware...

Since there were no correct guesses, I'll make it multiple choice.

Max nearly cut off the tip of his middle finger while

A) Chopping an onion
B) Shooting a basketball
C) Opening a yogurt
D) Checking the oil in the car

Tune in some other time for the exciting conclusion.

I've gotten a lot of question lately about my life. To answer them all, let me just say, "no, I don't know how I became so interesting, and, no, I can't make you as interesting as I am."

Yesterday night, I almost cut off the tip of my middle finger. Do you know how? Of course you don't. Try and guess though. Go ahead, try. You won't get it.

The Pistons lost their first game with their new lineup. What a disappointment. I demand a change.

Have you ever wondered why potpourri is pronounced poe-per-ee? What's that? I've just been mispronouncing it? Interesting.

Pienso ir a practicar hablar espanol. Es muy bien, no?

Sixteen.

For those of you (Mom) wondering if I suffer from bi-polar disorder (manic depression) and am in a manic phase, the answer is no. I just didn't have anything interesting to write today (or yesterday, as evidenced by my lack of a post). The fragmented thinking is actually the result of some very careful planning.

In news that you've all been waiting to hear, the Pistons just signed Chris Webber. If he's healthy, and the rest of the Pistons are motivated, they will not lose very many games for the remainder of the season...

In other news, I can't really think of anything interesting that is happening. Today, I played the guitar for several hours. I also made some vegetable soup. I even played vegetable soup while eating the guitar. Something about that wasn't quite right...

Oh yeah, you shouldn't eat and play at the same time. You might get guitar in the soup.

The big news here is still the weather. All the newscasters keep using the phrase "arctic blast" to describe the temperatures that hover at or near freezing (at night--still around 60 during the day...). I wish they would stop; I really think that it makes them look stupid--especially when they say, "we've been hit by an icy, arctic blast: the high tomorrow is only 56; oh, and the rest of the country has been covered in ice by a winter storm--but it's only going to be 56 here!!!!" Someone should write a letter.

Today, our governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, declared a state of emergency in California due to, and I'm quoting here, "conditions of extreme peril to the safety of persons and property ... as a result of extreme low temperatures and freezing conditions." Tonight's low is 35 F.

Tonight's low in Barrow, Alaska is -13 F and -47 F with the wind chill. Tonight's low in Bismarck, North Dakota is -20 F and -37 F with the wind chill. After considering California's situation, the governors of ND and AK have declared states of Armageddon.

I know you were all curious about the trip to Costco. It went fine. I got 40,000 rolls of paper towels, 900 cans of green beans, 900 cans of re-fried beans, 10,500 yards of plastic wrap, and a hot dog. Not bad for $1.50.

Again, not much to say today. I suppose that's probably a good thing. Mediocre maybe. Oh, you'll be interested to know that I just took a shower. Hmmm...

Breaking news!

The LA Galaxy of Major League Soccer (USA) have signed David Beckham for 5 years and $250 million dollars. That's $50 million a year. $1 million a week. $137,000 a day. $5,700 an hour. $100 a minute.

First off, I'm trying to break into the wrong profession. Secondly, LA has the highest population of people who are homeless in the United States, yet they can pay a guy to kick a ball $100 a minute. Talk about disordered priorities. Someone should do something.

Oh well, I'm off to Costco.

(Please tell me you caught the incisive barb)

Yesterday it was 88 degrees. Friday the expected high is 53 with a low of 35. What is this? Michigan?

In other news, there's not really much news today. Sarah is getting back into the swing of things with school. The only thing I'm thinking about swinging is a golf club. Although a bat might be nice. Maybe both.

Today I spilled food on my shirt at least four times.

Have you noticed the jagged feel to this post? Me neither. Anyway, that will be enough for now. Perhaps something else later. Perhaps not...

Sarah goes back to school tomorrow. It's too bad both of us can't mooch from the other; I feel guilty staying home while she works. Not guilty enough to get a job, mind you. I've not chosen the right career path for a job to be worthwhile. I'm sure that statement would draw ire from many. Not Sarah though; that's why I'm not getting up to go to a job in the morning. Maybe someday...

Tonight, Sarah and I watched The Devil Wears Prada. Sarah enjoyed it, but I had to eat my way through it. And when I say, I had to eat my way through it, I'm not using some sort of euphemism: in order to make it through the movie, I had to continuously eat so that I wouldn't get bored. I ate a bagel, two scoops of ice cream, some watermelon, a few nerds (hard candy, not dorks), a handful of chocolate covered raisins, the dinner leftovers, and a couch cushion. Fantastic.

We said goodbye to Sarah's parents today. They take off for Seattle in the morning. Peter leaves as well for APU, so Sarah and I will be empty nesters. Maybe we'll get a cat. Or perhaps a real pet, like a dog.

Sarah says to stay tuned to her blog, because she'll be posting Saturday or Sunday. I'm not sure if I would believe her. It's almost like she thinks she's on vacation or something.

Some people have asked me about Stranger Than Fiction. It's an interesting movie: it has elements of comedy, drama, mystery, and romance, and I'm not exactly sure how I would classify it. I would say that it is not a completely typical role for Will Ferrell, who sometimes plays a wide-eyed idiot, and, overall, I thought everyone was well cast. So, Grandma, to answer your question, I would imagine that you would at least not hate it... (I liked it; Sarah liked it a lot).

I know you were all very concerned, and my thumb is doing much better. In other news, Sarah, Peter, and I all went to a theater in Huntington Beach and saw Stranger Than Fiction. We enjoyed it. I mostly enjoyed the fact that the movie cost $2. We will be frequenting that particular theater on many future occasions...

Tonight I played basketball with Randy, and things were going swimmingly until about the third game. It was then that I was karate chopped. In the thumb. Really, it wasn't a chop; it was more like a pile-driver. To the thumb. In any case, I dislocated my thumb.

I was all set to show you pictures of a dislocated thumb, but, oddly enough, I kept playing; five plays later, I instinctively stuck my hand out to steal a pass, and the ball smacked into my hand and re-located my thumb.

What are the chances of that?

I should also note that it wasn't horribly dislocated--it wasn't as if I did something terribly irresponsible and kept playing when my thumb was at a right angle. In reality, it didn't look all that bad (a little bump on one side), I just couldn't move it in one direction. Anyway, it's not really swollen, but it does hurt. Maybe I'll sit out for a while...

I have to get up early tomorrow to take Hannah and Travis to LAX (the airport), so I think I'll try and be brief.

I did it.

More later.

(Quite a post for the last one of the year. Dork.)