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| On the anniversary of my first week in the UK, I thought I would type up a few thoughts, observations, and experiences I've had so far. Well, and this is really the first chance I've gotten to do so :)
Leaving was tough. I am very bad with goodbyes, and this was by no means any exception. However, Lydia is getting to come visit soon, so that makes it much easier on us!
The flights themselves were quite uneventful, and thankfully so. I was entirely unable to sleep, which is not at all normal for me. I have paid for it every day of this past week.
After going through immigration and picking up my bags, I head out. The first step outside was surprisingly normal to me, almost as if I had been there before. The brick street was wet with a recently ceased fresh rain, mist and a high fog still hanging in the air, and small, boxy cars with thin, rectangular license plates shooting by in their respective left lanes. I was to meet up with two guys from our SC office who were flying in just after I was, and would hitch a ride with them from Manchester out to our hotel, roughly 25 miles away. We were told to meet at the Avis hired car desk. So I found it, and waited. I overhead a couple being instructed that they needed to be at the Avis desk in Terminal 1. As we were in Terminal 3, I began to worry. I found out there were actually 3 Avis desks, and had no idea which one the other guys would be at. I jogged my memory, and was pretty sure they were flying Delta, which was Terminal 2 - so off I go. I had a cart for my bags, which made it much easier, but was still a challenge rolling over wet brick. I finally locate a sign directing me to Terminal 2 - a 15 minute walk away. I turned the 15 minute walk into an untimed run across Manchester International. I arrived at Terminal 2, minus an Avis desk. At this point, I should mention that the people I met who work at the Manchester airport were all top-notch friendly, and very helpful. A gentleman answered my query with the directions "Ah, i's downsturs n' o'er da rood - cheeurs!"
Downstairs - cool. But I'm pushing a cart. I manage to eventually locate a lift (elevator) and make it across the road to the desk just in time to meet Adam and Paul leaving for the car. Keep in mind I'd never met either before, as we work in different parts of the country. They had no idea that there were multiple Avis desks, either, and had thought that I had just gotten tired of waiting for them and hired a cab. Paul grew up in the UK, so he quickly became the driver. He set off with the words "Don't worry, I used to live here........ten years ago."
We passed an indoor ski slope:
I think AC/DC wrote a song about this road:
After arriving at the hotel red-eyed and scraggly-tailed, I get settled into my room. With a direct view of the office of my client where I'll be working until Christmas:
and our next-door neighbors, the Reebok Stadium, home of the Bolton Wanderers - one of the UK's professional football teams. The white beams are the stadium - not The Harvester Pub :)
That's soccer in the US, by the way. American football is called Gridiron here.
A hard cookie is called a biscuit:
And the crisp (potato chip) flavors are quite different:
Although it's not "real Turkish Delight," I couldn't pass up the chance to finally try it:
"Full of Eastern Promise".....???
Monday was Brandon's brithday, so we had some drinks at the nearby pub and then went bowling:
I asked Baz, one of the guys from our London office, if bowling was any different here. He quickly responded with "Oh, we use the left lane."
Now - the drinking over here. It's a bit different. I mean, they still ingest alcohol orally from glass containers, but the etiquette is not the same. When you go out with a group, you don't just buy a drink for yourself. It's customary that someone buys a round for every that they're with. The next round is on someone else, and so on. I've noticed that people don't really drink liquor as much when they go out here, just beer and wine. Apparently when making mixed drinks, they don't just eyeball the measurement like in the US, which usually makes a drink more stout, but instead have small measuring cups (more the size of measuring spoons) that they use. One of the US guys got a Jack & Coke, and even after it became a double, he still could barely tell it was there.
The local ales here are quite different than US beer, as well. I've heard stories about them being warm, room temperature, etc., but honestly, I would describe it as mildly chilled. Not disgusting at all, and for the type of drink it is, I think it fits very well. A cask ale is hand-pumped from the keg without the use of nitrogen or carbon dioxide. When you get a pint of this, the server will physically lean back and pull down on the tap to use their force to draw the liquid up from the keg, cask, or barrel - the lack of a propelling gas keeps the ale as unadulterated as possible. These ales are also cask or bottle-conditioned (much like Boulevard Wheat does) to continue fermenting, which keeps the beer "alive" until you drink it.
Our client took us to the Bolton Beer Festival on Thursday night. Yeah, our customer :) Again, very different than you'd expect in the US. No fights, no rude attitudes, didn't see anyone obnoxious, beligerent, or vomiting. All the ales were made locally, and the folks are quite proud of that. I can't say that I blame them, either.
It begins with you being issued a card or cards of vouchers for a certain monetary amount that you use to buy your pints or half-pints. You also get a brochure that lists each Brewery and the respective Ales, Bitters, and Ciders that they brought with a description of each. And last and most importantly - your own pint glass for the evening.
This is the left half of one side of one wall:
And to the right:
It wrapped around the end and halfway up the other side. Nobody went home thirsty.
The had food, too - Brandon's Spicy chicken and my Hog Roast:
When we all meet up to go to dinner, we customarily meet at the pub across the parking lot:
When someone goes to get the next round, they really don't wait for you to finish the previous one :)
I've found that fast food here is even worse than in the US - at least my experiences so far have been. But if you go to a nice restaurant, the food is typically pretty good. I'm trying to sample as many local dishes as I can, beginning with The Brinsop's Steak & Ale Suet Pudding with chips and a George Lyon cask ale - brewed and distributed only locally, of course.
Soooooooooooooooooooooooo good. We then had cheese for dessert, which is customary. I tried a locally made Lancashire Crumbly, British White Cheddar (which the name Cheddar comes from the town it was created here), a French Brie, and another locally made Stinton, which had veins of blue mold all throughout. Honestly, I think the Stinton was my favorite. A very strong, slightly bitter aftertaste - and here I never thought I'd ever eat cheese with mold growing in it....afterwards, I could smell my own breath, and it reeked of nasty feet. They also include celery and grapes on the patter, thankfully. We also got some Brinsop Sundaes for dessert, which ended up being almost entirely creme - which is different than US cream - not sweet at all, and honestly somewhat bitter. I think everything is bitter here, including the people :) As I was waiting for someone to cross the street, Baz just said "you're in the UK now, and it's allllll about 'me' here." That's a big adjustment from Southern Missouri living.
I've been having English Breakfast every morning, and I must say it's pretty awesome. The bacon is different here, too - kind of halfway between US bacon and ham. The sausage is shaped like small brats, and are called bangers. Eggs are the same, but the breakfast also contains tomatoes, mushrooms, and baked beans. I'm still not sold on the beans yet, but the mushrooms are awesome. And yogurt here - whoa - very different. Thick, dense, unrefridgerated, and bitter.
I've also had some interesting sandwiches at lunch, particularly Minted Lamb and Turkey & Cranberry. They also put only butter on the bread with the meat - nothing else. Apparently there are customs of what you garnish different types of meat with - Mint with Lamb, Horseradish with Beef, Applesauce with Pork, and Cranberry with Chicken or Turkey.
After a long week of working and eating, and since all the UK folks went home for the weekend, we took a trip to Manchester by rail yesterday.
Someone thought that this building was in a movie - does anyone know?
Had to get a photo of the Starbucks for Lydia:
We had lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe, where I took this photo from my seat - Liam Gallagher's suit and guitar, in the Gallagher Brothers' hometown of Manchester. It was awesome.
As we exited the Arndale, we looked up to see the huge Ferris Wheel:
And then across the street to The Shakespeare:
One of the stores had their entire storefront lined with old, classic Singer sewing machines:
And I even got my own double-decker to drive around!
We happened upon a huge protest going on, against Muslims being in the UK:
As the thousands of protestors made their way by, escorted by police on foot, in riot gear, in cars, on horseback, and with German Shepherds, apparently a fight broke out, and people just started running like mad - so we decided it was probably a good idea to run, too. Things quickly quelled, and the march proceeded, slowly allowing us through to the train station. We just decided to stop and get a cup of coffee while we waited, instead of following behind the procession :) Another part of city life that I could easily do without.
And that brings us to today, where the sun has just now decided to peek out amidst the dark clouds and give us a break from the seemingly incessant rain. Still quite windy and cold, though.
We'll see what I get into next - oh, nevermind - that will be work :)
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| As usual, much has happened since I last wrote here. This time, though, some major life changes were involved. I don't do well with minor life changes, even, so my world has been quite out of the ordinary lately.
It all started when I played a show at Borders with some friends of mine.
While playing, I noticed a cute dark-haired little lady looking at me, and then taking some pictures. I didn't think much of it, since she had a camera, and that's what photographers do. She also happened to be one of Amy's (bass player's wife) best friends, so after I left that night, the teasing began. We were later introduced, kept in touch, and starting hanging out together.
I have been told before that I would never meet a girl at a bookstore. Not only did I meet a girl at a bookstore, I met a girl at *two* bookstores. The night of the concert, while we didn't actually talk, was at a bookstore, and the place where we decided to meet up a few days later was a different bookstore. I can't tell you how cool it was to walk by the classic literature section and have conversations about the books - not just that we liked them, but in detail about why we liked them. So there.
To date, I haven't managed to scare her off, no matter how "boring old-man-ish" I get. I'm very excited about this, and really get along well with this girl.
Shortly after this all began, I was walking down the hallway at work, returning to my desk with a cup of coffee. I passed one of my supervisors, said "good morning," and was met with "Can you move to London in two weeks?" Now, my brain typically takes some time to warm up in the mornings, especially after 6:30am conference calls to multiple other countries. I think my mind instantly went into overload-mode, and has yet to fully recover.
Since then, things have been changed, worked out, negotiated on, and arrangements made, so it's official. On Oct 3, I'll be flying to Manchester, to live in Bolton for the remainder of the year, with weekly trips to our London office on Fridays.
As I have never been out of the country, and rarely even leave Missouri, this is quite an adjustment. Especially considering that I have just recently met a wonderful girl who I'm not too fond of leaving for three months, and just bought the guitar amp I've been wanting for several years now.
The matter of dress clothes has come into play. You see, in our office, the typical work day attire can contain shorts, jeans, flip flops, tennis shoes, boots, tshirts, hoodies, or baseball caps. In the UK, though, it's considerably more "professional." Lydia helped me pick out some suits, shirts, ties, shoes, etc, etc, etc last weekend. They look great, and it's really kind of exciting and fun - just very, very expensive. I'm supposed to pick them up from the tailor on Monday, so hopefully I can get a few photos in them.
Another interesting fact - the town of Bolton, where I'll reside for the rest of the year, was where several generations of my ancestors lived in the 1600s, prior to coming to the US. Neat, huh? There's a pub there that dates back to at least 1251, which is the earliest existing legal record that can be found of its existense. I can't help but think that my ancestors spent some time there in their days, as it's not a huge city, by any means.
And with that, I need to get busy getting things together for the trip.
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| Last weekend contained two very big and meaningful events: Friday night attempted to contain Andy's memorial show, and Saturday saw the wedding of JR and Manda.
Aside from being a good excuse to hang out with a lot of old friends I hadn't seen in quite some time, I hear there was a good bit of money raised in Andy's name for cancer research, all while having a lot of fun with some live music. Although StereoStatic just wasn't the same without him, I think he'd get a kick out of how well the guys did, and would be proud that they'd still do a show for him. Jason said it best with the words "In the last year, Andy has managed to make me do two things I swore I'd never do: cry in front of people and sing in front of people."
Jeffy or Nikki Sixx?? Hmm...
Then there was Saturday. I even wore a suit!
It was a beautiful day to drive across Missouri
Club Ink was reunited for the first time in several years. Darryl had to leave before we could all get a photo together, but we did manage to get one with 3/4 of us present.
Hebrew on the left arm, Greek on the right. You can tell we're tough, mostly by the fact that Chris is still clutching his lollipop stick in the photo....
Which reminds me - the food at the reception was awesome: hotdogs, sno-cones, cotton candy, popcorn, and large bags of assorted candy. Low cost, easy to make and serve, and well, just...fun! The sno-cones were definitely my guilty pleasure of the evening. I don't know Manda extremely well, but I can say that JR has never been one to lack creativity, originality, or fun. Their wedding exemplified this very well, and I'm sure their marriage will all the more.
Add to this the beauty of the setting sun viewed amidst the rolling hills of a Mid-Missouri farm situated a few miles outside of Columbia, and you just might have yourself a good time.
Being that most of my friends were involved in the wedding party in one way or another, I ended up at a table by myself as seats were being selected for the reception. As I sat, two middle-aged women came by, looked around, and acted as if they were going to take some chairs from the table. I invited them to join me, as I was sitting alone. What I didn't know was that they had brought friends...."GIRLS!! OVER HERE!!!" Before I knew what was going on, I was surrounded on all sides by a group of 70-something-year-old women who were very eager to shake my hand and find out every miniscule detail of my life.
Backtrack a couple of days here. Some of you may recall my Facebook status displaying that I smelled like mothballs. So I have an open box of mothballs in one of my cabinets. I was using them as an attempt to keep squirrels out of my garden (without the desired result). I went to said cabinet to retrieve something, and...well...mothballs happened. That smell doesn't easily leave you, so I have learned. Now back to the wedding - amidst an array of introductions and figurative cheek-pinching, it came to me - "Mothballs. They're attracted to the mothball smell." I mentally pictured one of the little ladies placing her hand on top of mine and shaking her head in emphasis while stating "Young man, I just love that musk you're wearing."
Ok - so all comedic effect aside, this group of ladies was actually not creepy at all, and they weren't hitting on me in any way. They were actually really sweet and thoughtful little ladies. They kept trying to go get food for me, and were really interesting to talk to. One even went so far as to get up and physically lead a girl with an umbrella over to where I was sitting, which was when I heard her say "Here, dear, hold this umbrella over this good-looking SINGLE young man's head to keep the sun out of his eyes. Did I mention he's single? Oh, and just look at him, you two look so great together!" All the while, she's pulling the girl's arm, opening the parasol for her. This girl could not have been more than twelve years old, and had a look on her face that could best be described as the fear of impending death by mothball inhalation. I couldn't help but chuckle as I assured her that I was fine without an umbrella, and thanked her for her toughtfulness. She then brought her husband over - a man named Barney who I'm pretty sure is a 30 year old in an 80 year old body...which is very ironic, since just the previous day, Jeff had referred to me as an 80 year old in a 30 year old body.
So yeah, Barney. He told me lots of stories, ranging from his education, to some of the jobs he took over his lifetime, his military service, and all of the countries that he and his wife had visited together. Please note, this was not "boring old man chatter" - this guy was seriously a real deal adventurer, and he knew his stuff. He and his wife also had to leave the reception early, due to the fact that he was getting up early the next morning to run a race at the Show-Me Games, which is Missouri's version of the Olympics. I hope that I have at least half of his ambition when I am his age. The world needs role models like he and his wife.
After dark, the dancing began. As you may or may not know, I am not a dancer. I do not like to dance. I typically don't even like to be around it. Especially if there is karaoke involved. And oh my, was there karaoke - kicked off by none other than JR himself, serenading his new bride to the seductive tune of "La Bamba." I think I nearly swooned, myself :) While still slightly uneasy at my proximity to the dance floor, I at least took comfort in the fact that not once was I pressured into joining in. I was able to watch, laugh, and chat with old friends over a sno-cone or three. I can also attest to the fact that you have not truly lived until you have heard Chris Jospeh sing karaoke, immediately followed by a breath-taking performance of the Robot Dance:
As with all good things, the night had to come to an end. I was lucky enough to get a quick photo snapped with the couple. I'm really not sure when I'll see them next, as they move to Ohio in a little over a week, but it will be a joyous day when it does arrive.
They also have done something that I don't think I've ever seen before. They both changed their last names to a new common name - Forasteros. An explanation from their website: "We chose 'Forasteros', which is Spanish for 'stranger, alien, sojourner'. We want to extend hospitality to everyone we meet, to become known for welcoming and including especially those who are different from us. We want to become students of other cultures, to learn from everyone we can. And most of all, we want to learn to extend love and grace to everyone we meet just as God has extended it to us, even when we were strangers to him."
Although I'm just a touch on the traditional side and would probably not do this myself, it's still a really neat idea.
Speaking of neat ideas, I think that going to bed early tonight is one I will participate in. I hear that makes rising with the sun slightly less un-fun than normal.
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| ...which will almost instantly, in nearly any conversation with my fellow local residents, be augmented to "Thoughts on pushing 30 in Baptist Land....and you're not married?!?"
At this point I picture the scene in one of the all-time cinematographic masterpieces - UHF - where George personally delivers a package to the owner of the network affiliate, and instead of "Mr. Fletcher," refers to him as "R.J." The room completely freezes in shock - including telephones which silence mid-ring, only daring to finish their ring once the tense conversation is complete.
It seems to be commonly viewed around here that if you aren't permanently (in theory) bound in matrimony by your late 20s, then there is apparently something seriously wrong with you. I'm talking a dire, heinous crime against humanity. Let's discuss this.
Start with the demographic - my town is located in southern Missouri, has a population of around 10,000, is about 30 miles away from a college town of about 150,000, and is home to a semi-popular University.
This University is a Baptist University - albeit very liberal for a Baptist University, but Baptist, nonetheless. What I discovered in the years I attended was that a scary amount of the enrollment could care less about an education, but instead are there to pair up. I have even seen instances where this was the intention/mandate of the parents funding the education - or in their case, 4 year social mixer. The most notable (to my eye, at least) were those going into "ministry," or those wanting to marry into such. I was told by a number of girls that they draw towards guys training to be pastors because they are so much closer to God than us "other" guys. Not all girls, but enough to make me afraid to ever marry a preacher's wife. Good thing they're all already taken :)
A few of those girls found out quickly that their place (according to their particular Man of God) was to keep their mouths shut, and their purpose was now to make dinner and babies. You had your wedding, congratulations, this is now what a godly wife does, end of story. Kind of dismal, huh? Gladly, this was the minority (I think/hope) of those I encountered.
This is not meant to look down on those training for the clergy, married or unmarried. I know of many who I feel have a good grasp on things, mainly because they're the first to say when they don't understand something, and won't try to make you feel guilty if you disagree with them on something - instead, they turn to reason, logic, intuition, intelligence, philosophy....those things you're supposed to learn in school. You know, in your spare time. They admit that the more they learn, the more they realize they don't know. This is called honesty - something I feel much of the pulpit is lacking, and something that much of the church has no stomach for.
Some of those in my mind as I wrote the above were married while in college. I don't have a problem with that. I was actually pretty ecstatic for them. These people didn't shove it down everyone's throats. They didn't act like they suddenly reached a level of enlightenment that those unbound could never know. They didn't expect their friends to drop everything and take care of them. They simply continued their lives together, worked very hard to make ends meet, and were the same really nice people throughout the process. I am still honored to call them all friends.
So what makes so many people so condescending and arrogant to those who haven't joined their elite rank? My thoughts are that within the church, marriage is placed upon the untouchable altar of sex. You're flooded with it incessantly as you grow up, but are taught that you're not to even think of it. When we're told that we can eat the fruit from any tree but this one - which one do we itch the most to get at?
This leads us to a curious fork in the road - one we'll call "Do Christian young people often get married so that they may indulge in sex without guilt?" Let's skip the "Oh-not-us-we-are-so-holy-that-we-fasted-from-breathing-the-same-air-for-four-years-while-we-recited-sacred-verse-in-descant-and-it-was-amazing" facade and answer like we actually watch movies without Kirk Cameron in them.
Is this really what it is that makes people question those who haven't partnered up in the supposed due time? Do you assume that they're cold emotional voids, sexual deviants, or the type who like to turn their neighbors into a gruesome fashion statement via a pit in their basement? (It's a movie reference - I'm not speaking from experience. My house has no basement.)
Or is it a need to feel superior over others, and once you have acquired your "Holy Grail," you've got a license to judge?
Being that a good number of my friends have not fallen into this category of hyper-self-righteousness, it could be argued that this topic is totally out of line, as said friends are mainly the ones who will read this. However, I enjoy hearing the thoughts of my friends and learning from them, so if you have insight, let it rip. The insight.
To completely throw any sort of literary order out, I'll now compile a brief and non-exhaustive list of things that really piss us "other" people off to no end:
1) Say "You're not married - you wouldn't understand." This increases exponentially when paired with you dumping your responsibility on us.
2) Treat us as your exclusive dedicated babysitting service. It's no problem to ask a favor. It's even better to appreciate the favor. Kids are a joy, even for those who don't have their own. However, there is a line, and it's bad to take advantage of others. You chose to be a parent - we did not. Even if unplanned, when you had sex, you made the choice.
3) Complain that you only get to watch 2 hours of TV instead of 3, because you have to do a whole entire chore all by yourself...while your spouse does all the rest of them for you. I dare you to try doing it ALL yourself, and then take note of how much leisure time is left over. You might find that it's now considered a luxury that you refer to as "sleep."
4) Set quality, desirable single people up with those who have no business being with them, let alone who aren't fit to be in a relationship in the first place. This tells us that it's not our virtue that you look at, but rather which sport we played in school or where we purchase our clothing. If your reasoning is that one of the people can't seem to care for or be responsible for his or her own self and "needs help," consider the burden you are placing on the other. If someone is incapable of being responsible for their own person, what makes you think they'll be there for another, in addition to themself? The leech has two daughters....a principle proven true time and time again throughout history.
5) Try to set us up with people just because they're single. I suppose I cling to my idealist principles here, but I really think it takes more than avoiding loneliness to make a relationship work for a lifetime. I don't mean that you should compare dental records to find a close match, but at least think about it enough to be able to tell me why this person is a good idea. Even something as seemingly simple as a pleasant personality can go a long way - you'd be shocked at how rare that is to find. "I just want to see you with somebody" is not a good idea. "Well, you probably won't find them attractive and their personality may need to grow on you, but you're both single, so that's something you have in common" is even worse.
6) Complain about not having sex for a couple of weeks while your spouse is away. You will get no sympathy here, and quite honestly might risk a middle finger.
7) Talk to us as if we should be wearing sackcloth and ash in grief and mourning. Extra negative points if we're expected to shout "Unclean! Unclean!" as you pass us in the street.
People often tell me that I need to move to a huge city in order to meet someone nice. I really don't see why this is so - people in gargantuan cities seem to tend towards being more abrasive, rude, and dog-eat-dog. Not ideal for me. I also don't picture myself spending the rest of my life with someone whose idea of a quality night on the town involves being mugged and sacrificing my car's fenders to the parallel parking neighbors. I also figure that my match would enjoy more wilderness and fresh air than Central Park has to offer. I realize that some people enjoy those things. Likewise, please realize that I am not one of them.
So why force myself into living in an environment where I'm uncomfortable and unhappy in order to meet someone who will keep me there indefinitely, and who I am probably very incompatible with in the first place? I've learned the hard way that people who take the greatest pleasure in something due to the displeasure it causes another are definitely ones to avoid. At all costs. Run. Hide. Now.
In thinking about this, it seems that this type of relationship ends up being "Give and Take." The word "Take" infers acquiring from another without the other willfully giving. It would be miserable to be stuck with someone who I'm constantly having to fight just to give up/take affection, assistance, companionship, and the like. I would much rather be 'stuck' with someone where it's an even flow of "Give and Receive." Receive infers (in my mind) that someone first offers something to you. Their giving is as much a part of the process as you receiving, and vice versa from you to them - I see this as a good sign of a healthy relationship with genuine concern for the other.
So in summary, here are my thoughts: if someone is unmarried, happy, and enjoying their life, please don't make it your personal mission to try to make them miserable. What good does this do you? If you do extract pleasure from this, then you need to deal with some issues that are hurting yourself as well as those around you. If you know of people who could enhance each other's lives, then by all means introduce them - this should result from genuine motives with good reasoning behind them, not sympathy, self-induced guilt for being happy in your own relationship, or a desire to vicariously write your own cheesy romance novel with your friends as your pawns.
So there you go. I really do want to know your thoughts on why this cultural phenomenon is so prevalent here. However, please actually read what I wrote, and not what you assume I "really meant between the lines." Remember - it's ok to disagree. I'm writing this simply from my perspective, with the intention of learning what it looks like from other people's perspectives.
In addition, I apologize for the disorganized format of this tirade. It's very late, I'm very tired, very stressed, and I just wanted to get this out before turning in.
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| After 10 years, I believe that this was my favorite Cornerstone ever. Excellent weather, awesome campsite, lots of fishing, and seeing some of my favorite bands is just tough to beat. Here's a not-so-quick run through with some photos along the way.
I picked up a hitch hiker around Osage Beach, but didn't realize it until I was at the front gate and two guys pointed it out.
Set up camp in the spot where I intend to camp from here on out, if at all possible.
The view from my camp chair:
Caught some softshell turtles as wide as me - the ones I have always caught before are about 5-6 inches in diameter:
Tuesday morning, I landed the fish of a lifetime. 18 1/2 in, 3 lb 8 oz white crappie. If you don't fish, suffice to say that adult crappie normally don't exceed 9-10 inches.
Compared to a normal sized crappie:
His scales were the size of my thumbnail
Andy and H.L. hosting a large fish fry that night by the Gallery stage - catfish, turtle, crappie, vegetables, and pepto:
Went to Main stage for MewithoutYou with some old friends and new friends:
Rosie Thomas:
Jeff Shoop:
Louis from Gasoline Heart:
David Bazan:
Stavesacre:
The Crucified:
James, Butch, and JJ got to sing on one of their songs:
Living Sacrifice:
513's usual campsite, minus 513:
Mud:
I see that VW bus around there every year:
Taking the long way back to camp:
A peaceful afternoon back at camp:
A "goodbye" photo of the Lake and I:
Me, JJ, James's friend, James, and Butch getting a quick photo before we head our separate ways for another year:
Farm King! That store has everything.
James inspecting the Macomb skate park:
A really neat bridge across the Mississippi at Hannibal - I think it's for railroad, but not entirely sure. I was driving, so the automobile bridge railing kind of got in the way. Oh well.
Other notable events were:
Austrian Death Machine - a joke metal band created by Tim Lambesis that features Ahhhnold Schwarzenegger impersonations as vocals, and memorable quotes from his movies as song lyrics. I believe this band to be my new crack cocaine. But come on, with songs like "Cybernetic Organism - Living Tissue Over (Metal) Endoskeleton," "Get To The Choppa!," "Who Is Your Daddy and What Does He Do?," and "It's Not A Tumor," how could you possibly not be entertained?
The Square Peg Alliance - a group of songwriters from Nashville who got together and took turns performing their songs and telling stories, often accompanied by one of the other members. Honestly, I went just to see Andy Osenga, but discovered the duo that is Andy Gullahorn and Jill Phillips, two songwriters who happen to be married, and who also happen to be excellent songwriters. When I saw that Andrew Petersen was a member, I was less than thrilled due to overexposure to his music at my last job, which I found to be mediocre at best. I can say, though, that he really impressed me live. Another shortcoming of the Christian music industry - notorious for taking really good songwriters and musicians and watering their talents down so much that you'd never recognize them if you met them face to face.
Derek Webb - I honestly wasn't going to see him, but I was already there, had a good seat, and had nothing else to do. His music is actually pretty good, and I have no dispute with his lyrics that I know of - I'm just burnt out on his fans (read - mindless sheep followers). I suppose I group that into the people whose faith is seemingly based on trend and fashion, with little to no regard to why they say and believe the things they do other than they are told to by people who they think are cool. But that's another rant that is neither here nor there, but I will say that I'm not sure I get why Mr. Webb is so controversial. I understand that he says "whore" in one song, and "shit" in another, and I do understand how that is controversial to many...but really, we're beating a dead horse here. This has been done before by many who went before the almighty Caedemon's, we've all fought, yelled, cried, and some of us apologized and made up, and others aren't speaking to others anymore - but we've done this before...seriously. If a guy wants to say "shit" in a song and you don't like it - don't buy the album. I'm not sure there is a better way to get your point across - the label does not care what you think, only what you will buy.
Some independent French film that really had no meaning - either I missed the point entirely, or it just wasn't that good. Maybe neither, maybe both.
I went to a philosophical seminar on a few Church Fathers - but it was way over my head. I usually find the seminars to be either way over my head or beating a dead horse. There's more than plenty to do there, though, so I really can't complain - plus, I had some very deep and meaningful conversations with a few of my new friends. Good times.
I can't think of much more at the moment, so until next year, I'll leave you with that.
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