The gift of space

I read this passage in Surprised by Joy at my neighborhood bar, Ten Stone, tonight and thought it was pretty fantastic. Almost as fantastic as the blond brownie with vanilla ice cream I had there.

The truest and most horrible claim made for modern transport is that it "annihilates space." It does. It annihilates one of the most glorious gifts we have been given. It is a vile inflation which lowers the value of distance, so that a modern boy travels a hundred miles with less sense of liberation and pilgrimage and adventure than his grandfather got from traveling ten. Of course if a man hates space and wants it to be annihilated, that is another matter. Why not creep into his coffin at once? There is little enough space there.

Makes me want to sell my car and buy another bike. But then, I have "enough" bikes, and sometimes it's nice to shorten distances, especially to visit family and friends.

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Now playing: Coldplay - Amsterdam
via FoxyTunes

You might be a hopeless romantic if

I bought some new winter running gloves recently. A lot of different gloves these days come with plastic hooks so that you can keep your gloves together and prevent one of them from wandering off to that place your socks keeping making a break for. These gloves actually came with magnets sewn into small little pouches hanging off of the wrists, so there is no fumbling around to hook or unhook them. It works really well.

Tonight I threw the gloves into the wash, one at a time. When I pulled all my laundry out of the washer, I discovered that they were stuck together. And all I could think was, "awww, they found each other."

It's ridiculous, I know. Shhh.... Don't tell anyone.

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Now playing: John Mayer - Wheel
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Open-faced Eggo

I ate dinner tonight in front of the TV while watching Lie to Me. I'm not a big fan of most TV shows , but Lie to Me captures my interest every time. After the show was over, I started to clean up and noticed that my fork and knife looked like they had been untouched. They were gleaming clean and perfectly arranged on either side of my tray. For a few seconds, I was very confused. Had I, in some TV-induced trance, put my dirty silverware in the dishwasher and grabbed clean silverware after I had eaten? Then it occurred to me:

I didn't have any clean dinner plates, so I put my Eggo's on a salad plate. Problem was, the plate was too small, so each of the four waffles was precariously hanging over the edge. Eating them with a fork and knife would have been nearly impossible, and almost certainly would have ended in tragedy. Imagine a waffle covered in syrup and butter, upside down on my beautiful new rug. My solution? I ate them with my bare hands, like an open-faced sandwich. It worked really well, too. The secret is that you make sure not to pour the syrup over the edges so that the waffle holds all the buttery-sugary goodness, and it doesn't drip over the sides.

I think I'm starting to get the hang of this whole bachelor thing.

A date for the ages

A friend recently told me a great "date" story, which reminded me of this date I went on that I've been meaning to write down for some time:

I think it was around February 2008. She (we'll call her Hope) had never been to Philly before, so I thought it would be a fun date to surprise her by driving her there for an evening. I didn't tell her where we were going - just that we would leave late afternoon and wouldn't return until probably fairly late. In retrospect, since she didn't know me that well at the time, it's pretty amazing that she was willing to just get in my car and drive down the highway to who knows where. We got to Philly with no major issues, had a little trouble parking, and that's when the night really started to get interesting.

The first item on the agenda for the evening was to take her ice skating at the rink beneath the Benjamin Franklin bridge. Hope had mentioned she liked ice skating, but hadn't gone in a while because her friends and family hadn't wanted to go when she was home. I love ice skating (not that I'm any good), and I thought the prospect of taking a date to a rink outdoors, beneath a beautiful bridge would be awesome. We walked over to the rink, and it looked fantastic. The trouble was, apparently a school group had rented out the entire rink for the only time slot we could manage with our schedule, so we had to throw up our hands and walk back to my car. I was a little disappointed - it seemed like a great idea that had been spoiled by the unexpected.

This is where the fun really began. Believe it or not, I couldn't remember exactly where I had parked. (And if you know me well, this is not hard to believe at all). I think I was so excited about the date, it had not crossed my mind to memorize the street. We wandered around for quite some time, until it seemed like we were just walking in circles. Then I got the idea to grab a cab and have it drive us around the area - it seemed like a more efficient way to search for my car (plus it was cold, and Hope did not seem terribly comfortable hiking around in her shoes, even though she was playing it cool).

Once we got in the cab, we found my car literally only half a block away. How ridiculous!? I paid the cabbie, and then we crawled out and walked over to my car. As we neared my car I reached for my keys, only to realize that they were not there. I tried to play it cool, and wave down the cabbie, but he was already far down the street and didn't notice my motioning for him to stop. Apparently, I had taken the carabiner my keys were attached to off my belt loop before I paid, so I had put them down to grab my wallet. Then I just got out of the cab, taking for granted that my keys were securely hooked to my belt loop. But they were just loose at that point. Oops!

We discussed what to do on the street for a little while, and then decided to go to a bar down the street to get warm and come up with a plan. I was pretty frustrated, not only because I didn't have the keys to my car, but because we were supposed to be at a dinner with some friends soon, and I didn't want to miss that, but I also needed to get us home eventually (not to mention the first part of the evening had been somewhat of a disaster). We tried calling a few cab companies, but I was met with a half-hearted "good luck" by most of the phone receptionists. We couldn't even remember what color our cab had been. Who pays attention to that? And Philly is not like New York - there are lots of cab companies, and they each paint their cabs differently. We finally decided we thought it had maybe been yellow, but we kept second guessing ourselves since maybe we only thought the cab was yellow because we automatically visualize cabs as being yellow.

Eventually we decided to at least go to the dinner to salvage the evening. We could figure out how to get home later, or crash at my friend's place if absolutely necessary. To get to dinner, we had to catch a cab, so we decided we would at least try to catch a cab that vaguely reminded us of our first cab of the evening. We actually let a few available cabs go by, but then saw a yellow cab across the street. We waved at it, and even though it seemed like it wouldn't be able to make it across in such a short distance, it somehow precariously made it's way across several lanes to get to our side of the street. I opened the door and, remarkably, there were my car keys, laying there in the back seat! It seemed impossible. The cabbie had no idea the keys were even there. We were absolutely shocked. How on earth could we have hailed the exact same cab twice in the same evening? I gave the cabbie a tip just because, grabbed my keys, and then we just laughed and danced on the sidewalk for about ten minutes. It was quite the moment to share with someone.

The rest of the evening was fairly quiet- we had a nice dinner, with a great story to share, and then drove back home late in the night. And before things fell apart between Hope and me, we did manage a trip back to Philly to go ice skating. And it was terrific.

Must love long walks

It's become a cliche, a joke people make about dating classifieds or online dating profiles - "must love long walks." I used to think it was sort of silly myself. Long walks sounded overly romantic, or just plain corny. That is, until I discovered I really like them. My move to Philly has solidified my love for long walks, in part because it's so easy now - I can literally walk right out my front door.

I often go on walks late in the evening, maybe a couple hours before I go to bed. I like that time because the night gives a different perspective on the city, and often my walks can help me clear my mind or work something out. I'm frequently surprised how few other people I see walking through the city in the evening. Is everyone really just sitting at home, watching TV, or sitting in a bar, drinking? It's true that on the weekend I see many people walking about the city, but during the week, in the evening, so few people seem to be wandering about.

Maybe everyone else is going for walks earlier in the evening; maybe I'm a fool for walking through Killadelphia late in the evening. I'm not really sure, but I think I'll continue to enjoy my late night strolls around the neighborhood. If only I could trick someone into keeping me company...

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Now playing: John Mayer - Edge Of Desire
via FoxyTunes

The smile

As I was leaving the grocery store a couple weeks ago, I saw a sweet little old lady who was handing out coupons. As I walked by, my eyes met her eyes, and I gave her the slightest of smiles, a mere upward turn of the corner of my lips. I looked away for a half-second to see where I was going and then looked at her again, and I noticed she was starting to smile a little as well. Encouraged, I broadened my smile. I looked away a second time, and then looked towards her one final time before I passed, showing her a full on smile. As I broadened my smile, she smiled back at me with an expression so full of joy and kindness, I felt like I was walking on air.

I walked away with a big grin on my face, and I couldn't stop smiling afterward for quite some time. Even now, as I think of it, I can't help but smile. I hope my smile did for her what hers did for me. She absolutely made my week.

(This post has been revised to avoid further reader misinterpretation)

Au revoir, Dr. DS

Today I was deeply saddened to learn that Dr. DS had passed away early this morning. Dr. DS was a very special and loved man, who I'm sure will be missed by many. I know my family will sorely miss him, including me.

As my mom put it tonight, Dr. DS was one of my "biggest cheerleaders." I think he sincerely thought more of me than I ever thought of myself. I can still remember how impressed he was that I went to Amherst. While most people back home didn't have the slightest clue about Amherst, including those who thought I was going to community college in a nearby county, Dr. DS seemed to hold my accomplishment in attending and graduating from Amherst in the highest esteem. He would often observe something to others about my talents or intellect when I was home. This was coming from a man whom I was always humbled to be around - a man who had many accomplishments to his name, including a PhD, and the presidency of several colleges to boot. And that dear man always seemed mystified that I didn't have a young lady to bring home.

Dr. DS was a close friend of my grandfather, and thought very dearly of my mother. When I last saw him this past Christmas holiday, he took my mom and I out for lunch at the restaurant at which I used to work. At some point in the trip, I made some error in my manners regarding holding open the door for my mom. He chastised me, but later apologized, and said that he simply couldn't stand to see anyone mistreat her in any way. When I got back to Princeton, I wrote him a short note thanking him for taking us out to lunch and his movie recommendation (Doubt - as a theater man, his tastes for the stage and film were impeccable). He was so proud of my letter that he showed it off to my mom and then, as best I can understand, actually gave the letter to my grandparents.

Dr. DS, you will be missed. I am truly humbled to have had you believe in me, and I thank you. God rest your soul.

Procrastination and iTunes

Psychlist: You should take things slow and methodical.
Me: I totally agree with you. I'm really good at procrastinating, so this way I'm playing to my strength.
...And then I laughed, half at my silly wit, half at the fact that I was trying to legitimize being a goofball - see my September 28 post for more...

On a related note, I recently discovered that, according to iTunes, I Don't Trust Myself (with Loving You) is the most played song in my entire music collection. Psychoanalyze that!

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Now playing: John Mayer - I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You)
via FoxyTunes

Hosting

To at least some of my readers, it's no surprise to hear that I grew up in a less than perfect home environment. I'm not going to dive into all the details in this forum (but I'd probably be willing to talk about it in person if you asked), but for the purpose of this post, I want to make the point that my family never had guests over to my house. From a pretty early stage in my childhood (circa mid-80s), we literally never had any guests: no dinner parties, no cocktail hours, nothing. There was one exception - my next door neighbor, with whom I was good friends during high school, would come into one room in the basement, through the basement door, to play video games with me occasionally.

For essentially my entire childhood, I never knew what it was like to host a party or really have friends over. This may sound odd, but just having people into my dorm room when I first started college was sort of a thrill - it was basically the first time I had really had anyone "over". On a side note, my grandparents lived pretty close to me, and they were more than happy to let me bring my friends over for dinner or games or what have you. God bless them! But it was still only an occasional event, and it still wasn't my place, my home.

When I moved to the Farm after college, I finally had a place where I could invite people over, and it was awesome. I had no idea what being a host entailed, or how to do it right, but it really was a thrill. I finally learned that it is incredibly gratifying to open up your home to others, to put their comfort and enjoyment as your primary goal. Needless to say, when my landlord pulled the plug on me having more than a few people over at a time (at no fault of my own), I was seriously disappointed.

All of this really hit me last night, when I had some church friends over to watch the Phillies game. I was filled with this sense of joy and fulfillment at seeing friends having fun in my home, watching my TV, and drinking my beer. I think I finally got what it is to host people - now I understand why people go out of their way to make others comfortable in their home. It reminds me of stories in the Bible when people would wash the feet of guests who had come to their home. There is this deep feeling of love and community in sharing the place you live with others and serving them before yourself.

None of this is to say that I'm a particularly good host, or that I did much more than grab a few beers for people last evening. But it suddenly clicked, and it only took me 27 years.

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Now playing: John Mayer - 3x5
via FoxyTunes

Emma

I finished re-reading Emma tonight. I rank it as my second favorite Jane Austen, next to Pride and Prejudice. It's really quite a shame that she did not live longer - I often find myself wishing there was another novel of hers to read and discover, but I must "settle" for reading her existing works again and again. I'll have to revisit the movie later this week to see how it stands up to a fresh reading of text.

Favorite line this time through:
"If you think me in a way to be happier than I deserve, I am quite of your opinion."

The call of TULIP

I've been having a semi-crisis of faith recently. My church has been doing a series on doubt, which has really gotten me thinking. I've found it on the whole to be quite interesting, honest, and thought provoking. But I feel like there are fairly good answers to most of the difficult questions that have been raised. What keeps me up at night is the question of freewill and predestination. See, I'm starting to think God is a Calvinist, and I am very uncomfortable with that idea. It makes grace so much more amazing, and yet makes God seem fickle and preferential. This would all be so much simpler if St. Paul hadn't gone a written Romans. I'm going to over-simplify this because it's late and I don't even know if I fully understand the problem. I simply don't understand how a loving God could knowingly create condemned people. Maybe I'll just have to talk myself into open theism, an idea that, 2 years ago, I would have told you I would never even seriously consider. We change in ways we can never predict.

By the way, for those of you not familiar with the TULIP acronym, it is often used to summarize the beliefs of five-point Calvinists.
Total Depravity
Unconditional Election
Limited Atonement
Irresistible Grace
Perseverance of the Saints

I'm not even going to try to cover all of my struggles with TULIP here, because on the one hand it's absurd (for instance, what is the point of the Great Commission if there is Irresistible Grace), and yet incredibly logical and Biblical.

Here's to someone digging up Jesus' Systematic Theology somewhere near Bethlehem. In the meantime, I'll just keep slogging it out, even though it's unclear if I'm gaining ground, or losing it.

One more fry

I love that feeling when you get fast food to go, finish all the fries in the little cardboard container, and then find a few precious more scattered about in the bottom of the bag. I always know there will be a couple more fries somewhere in that bag, but I still feel surprised and lucky when I find them.

And yet I know one day I won't find any little greasy potato wonders buried in my bag, and I will be overcome with disappointment.

Blogger complaint

I just realized that when I publish a post that was begun previous to the day published, the date shown is when the post was started, NOT when it was published. This is really annoying! Sometimes I write down ideas, but don't get around to fleshing them out until weeks later. I don't want my post to be lost in the past. Google, you rock, but this is just silly.

The transition has begun

When I moved to Philly, I had half jokingly, half seriously told my friends that I was going to introduce myself to people by my middle name, Heath. Up until the last week, I had pretty much chickened out whenever introducing myself to new people. But as I have become more involved in my new church, I have discovered that there are a lot of Pauls in this church, and everyone is confusing them with one another. This circumstance has provided me with the perfect excuse to ask people to call me Heath! I tried it tonight at my Small Group, and it has already begun to start catching on (except for the one girl who wants to call me Dan?). I'm pretty excited; I just hope I realize that when people say Heath, they are talking to (or about) me :-)

Bikes, coffee shops, and the perfect album

I love biking around the city, and I especially love being able to get around the city faster on my bike than by car. Admittedly, this requires running some red lights, sometimes hopping up curbs, and other slightly illegal things I swore I wouldn't do when I moved to Philly. But it's soooo gratifying to beat cars.

It is unbelievable to me that I can't find a coffee shop in Philly that stays open past 10PM. In a city this large, especially with this many students, you would think late night coffee shops would be all over the place. I mean, Princeton had a coffee shop that stayed open to midnight, and it was sleepy Princeton!

I have recently been giving Kings of Leon another shot, and I've come to realize this go round that Only by the Night is pretty close to a perfect album. I don't mean the perfect album, and I do get sick of Caleb Followill's squealing after a while. But there are some really great songs on this album, and it all fits together so nicely that if feels like a complete package. Not your typical modern record with a couple good songs and a lot of songs that still needed work. Sometimes you just have to give things a second chance.

I think too much

This was pretty funny, especially when I realized that guy is me.

http://xkcd.com/642/

Life lessons: Amazon edition

When you move, make sure to delete your old address from your Amazon account. Otherwise, when in the frenzy of compulsive online shopping, you may inadvertently have something sent to your former address.

This is particularly frustrating when you addictively check your order status and get really excited when you see that it has been delivered, only to be severely disappointed when you realize that it was delivered to a place you no longer live!

New excuse

Because people keep asking me, I've tried to come up with creative and yet more creative responses to the question: "why aren't you dating anyone?" Tonight, I think I came up with a really great answer.

"I'm allergic."

It's like my good friend who is allergic to some fruits so he can't eat them, or my friend who loves guacamole, but can't eat it because she is allergic to avocado. Just because you like a thing doesn't mean you can have it.

(Or maybe they are allergic?)

Breath of fresh air

At my new Small Group this evening, I overheard a (rather cute) young lady saying to another young lady something along the lines of, "...purposeful dating. The idea is that you should be intentional about dating. You don't just do it for fun or to hookup, but in the context of the search for a spouse."

Wow, I was starting to think I was one of the few single people who actually tried to approach dating in this way. I'm not really sure if she was advocating this approach, or simply stating that it is one way of looking at things, but it was refreshing to hear it expressed, nonetheless.

The awesome thing about dating someone with this perspective in my mind is that you know that person would be treating you with respect, love, and seriousness. They would not be dating you purely out of boredom or loneliness or just using you for a season. It means that, if they dated you, they would actually be considering you as a potential spouse. Things would either grow and develop into marriage, or as soon as it became apparent that you were not the one, they would break it. While it could still happen, there would be a concerted effort made on both sides not to use one another, keep one another around till something better comes along, or discard one another as soon as things get serious.

I guess if we were to put this in the golden rule framework, we might say:

"I'm not playing you, so please don't play me."

Note: I realize there is a whole lot underlying this that you may not agree with, such as that dating should always be intentional. I believe it should be, but you don't have to. At the very least, I think it is important that a couple be on the same page. If one person is dating intentionally and the other is just dabbling for fun or because they are lonely, there is bound to be heartbreak.

Never give up

Yesterday I went on my first group ride in several months. I felt good at first, despite the fast early pace. But after about 15 minutes, the cool air started to get to me, and before long I felt like I was breathing through a straw. Even on the downhills, as my heart rate would recover, I could barely catch my breath. I soon found myself dropped and wondering if I was in much worse shape than I had thought (despite my recent climb of the Manayunk . I putted along for a few miles and was considering just turning around, going home, and licking my wounds, when a group of about 10 came by and invited me to jump on the back. I tried my best, but I couldn't really hold on since I couldn't get any air. I was at my max just trying to keep them in sight, often losing 50 yards to them and then catching them at a lucky red light.

I zipped everything up as much as possible to try to warm up my throat and lungs, and very slowly my throat started to open. Finally, about an hour into the ride, I started to feel ok and was able to hang onto the wheels at the back of the group. And I continued to improve. Before much longer, I was feeling almost good. For the last 2o miles of the ride, I was pulling hard, breaking away, covering breaks, bridging gaps, and even led out the final sprint.

The whole experience was quite amazing. The evolution of my "sensations" over the course of the ride covered quite a spectrum, and I was very happy by the end that I had not given up and managed to actually impress myself as to my fitness level.

Interesting side note: this ride is supposedly featured in Bicycling Magazine every year as a top ten US group ride.