It’d be just like Y2K to sneak up on us when we least expect it. And when will it be less expected than mid-January 2009?
I’m a fairly levelheaded guy, but I have some soft spots. Things like this can get a tear out of me.
- Kids, especially mine (Sam and anticipated future ones).
- Things related to patriotism or the military.
- People who have been married a long time. (For example, Melissa and I both cried at the end of the John Adams miniseries. I guess that would encompass #s 2 and 4.)
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Things like this help you see there’s still hope for the world.
Most days on NPR or elsewhere, I hear a few stories that go about like this:
- The Dow is going straight to hell. The Great Depression was a day at the beach.
- A billion more jobs were cut yesterday, and yours is probably next.
- The only solution is for the government to suspend habeus corpus, sell 12 or 13 states and give the money to car companies.
I think we’ve all settled that the economic news is going to get worse for a while before it gets better, so I have a suggestion.
Stop reporting it.
Seriously, how many of us really need to know what the Dow is doing? Does it matter how many people lost their jobs? Seems like it only really matters if you’ve lost yours, and if you have you probably heard about it before Carl Castle. And goodness only knows what Congress is going to do, other than lose more even more approval points.
I say leave it be. No sense dwelling on the unpleasant. No more financial news until after the first quarter of 2009. If we’re having a recession, depression, meltdown or whatever else, just wake me up when it’s over.
I’ve been working on my trying to develop some Adobe skills. Here are some recent projects.
First, a little welcome present for Dave Latham, who took my place at the bookstore. This was done with lots of consultation with Reid, my design guy (and who’s glad I’m actually learning to do some of this stuff myself, instead of producing and directing him). I decided this would be a good use of a sizeable chunk of my Wednesday.
Next, a little more down to earth: We’re making magnet pictures of Sam’s out-of-town friends so he can learn their names. Lucy is of course at the top of the list.
I like my Mac a great deal (witness the recent burst of videos on Blue Sky). And most of the stuff that was weird at first isn’t weird anymore. But there are a few lingering things I wish I could have brought with me when I crossed the great divide.
- The Home and End buttons. Did you know, for example, that End takes you all the way to the bottom of a webpage, and Home all the way to the top? Also very helpful when editing type.
- The Control button being all the way over to the left, in a very pinky-accessible spot. I’m having real issues with my typing flow. I have to pull my hands all the way off to hit the Command key. I’ve tried to use my thumb but I think it gives me carpal tunnel or something.
- The number pad. I realize this doesn’t exist on most PC notebooks either, but still, I miss it. It sits there at my work computer like an old friend you know is always there for you, and then I run home every night with the hot new model. Sorry, old chum.
- Picasa. Although iPhoto and I are getting along better the past couple of weeks. I had a great system set up in Picasa, where everything was automatically set up in folders, one for each month. I’m sure I could do that with “events” if I wanted to, but it’d be a workaround. I’m learning that iPhoto is a ridiculously advanced program by comparison, but there’s still a good bit of Picasa nostalgia.
- Bibleworks. This is really my fault for not having set up an emulator yet. But come on, Bibleworks. Just delay the next upgrade a couple of years and put out a Mac edition. (I’m reviewing Accordance soon, though, so this all might be moot. But I already know Bibleworks.)
Not bad though, especially when 3 of my 5 are keyboard issues. Vive la revolución.
Not an exhaustive list.
- Failed a class my first semester of college
- Got into a fight with my wife over the lyrics to William Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire”
- Cleaned out a coffeemaker with Pine-Sol
- Scraped my finger repeatedly on the same place on a cabinet
- Run over our laptop
Making a list like this can help you remember not to take yourself too seriously.
(If you’re adding to my list in the comments, be sweet. I didn’t make a list about you.)
- Athens, GA. Any of it. All of it.
- Outer Banks, NC. What the beach is supposed to be like.
- The Great Aunt Stella Center in Charlotte, which our church all but owns.
- My grandparents’ house in Elberton, GA. It has a hundred rooms, many places that haven’t been touched in thirty years, and lots of fun summer memories.
- Prague. Our next home.
What are some of yours?
For some reason I thought of this story this morning, and I thought you should enjoy it too.
A Jehovah’s Witness once came to the door of Dr. Don Fortson, one of my seminary professors. Dr. Fortson invited him in and they began to talk. JW’s, of course, do not believe in the Trinity, and so mistranslate John 1:1 to read “the Word was a god.” So they’re going back and forth on this, and of course Dr. Fortson’s not giving up any ground. After a while things start to get a little heated, and the JW gets agitated and exclaims, “Don’t you know the doctrine of the Trinity is a heresy invented by men in the 4th century?”*
You have to feel kind of bad for the guy at this point. Because he probably was just working his way down the street, and knocked on Dr. Fortson’s door because it was the next one up. He had no idea he was about to go head-to-head with a seminary professor. And when he trotted out the fourth-century line (which probably works on lots of Christians), he definitely had no idea he was talking to a professor of church history.
But anyway, he blurts out the line, and Dr. Fortson (who’s one of the nicest, most friendly people in the world) calmly responds, “I hope you repent of that statement before you meet your maker.” At which point the JW stands up, points, and says “You go to hell!”
Dr. Fortson replies, “You can’t tell me that. You don’t even believe in hell.”
I think that was the end of the interview, and Dr. Fortson probably doesn’t get many knocks on the door anymore.