Here in this one night out of the last 21 where I didn’t have something happening, have somewhere to be, or have someone to be, I finally have a little quiet time to read some of my old favorites:

Honey Roasted Peanuts. Ingredients: Salt; artificial honey roasting agents; pressed peanut sweepings.

I know some of you doing-all-the-time types might step over your own mother just have a quiet night away from all the busy-ness, but careful what you ask for. I’ll bet you “twenty dollars can buy many peanuts” that you and me both on a suddenly open night are a little like the mule with a spinning wheel… no one knows how he got it, and danged if he knows how to use it.

Actually... I figured it out. I’ll use it for laundry. Because the only thing I’m hunting for is an outfit that looks good.

Throw up your hands, and raise your voice.

So I know that there’s been a surge in recent years of naming children after little-named-after Biblical people. In my limited experience, names like Caleb, Noah, and Seth are more common now than they used to be. I don't have a problem with that. None, whatsoever. In fact, the cutest kid you're going to meet (okay, okay... he's at least in the top 4) is named Seth (seen on the right).

But when’s the last time you heard of parents naming their kid Tamar or Amminadab?

I will give you $50 if you name your daughter Abishag.

Technology can be wonderful and make life easier. For examples: last.fm, internet banking, and Hot Pockets and news about nailing jelly to a wall.

It also gives us tax return software.

But don’t get me wrong. It’s not the tax return software that’s the problem. In fact, the software I used was useful and helpful, and it employed a decent interface. It allowed me to gracefully render unto Caesar, and for Caesar to give back that which he kept interest-free over the past 12 months.

Here’s the problem: With the proliferation of tax return software, and E-File, and all that, there is little hope that we will ever have any kind of serious tax reform. The best argument we used to have against the current tax system is that “taxes are too complicated.” Now the best argument we have against it is, “I have too many software providers to choose from.”

What would be better? No income tax. Failing that, a flat tax. But for now, we’re stuck. Land of the AGI, Home of the Schedule A.

Crank up the burner, folks. That frog won’t jump.

So I was heading home yesterday about 5:30pm and, whaddyaknow, there was enough sunlight, in between the dark clouds, to show an orange sunset.

To me, this indicates two highly significant things:

1. The sunny parts of days are getting longer. Not only that, it’s actually noticeable to the 9-ish to 5-ish office crowd. (Lamest Day of the Year award goes to: toss-up! Dec 22 (shortest day) or June 23 (when the days start getting shorter))

2. Spring and summer are indeed coming. God promised we would not be deluged again, and he keeps his promises. Also noteworthy: We went a whole 23 hours without precipitation the other day. Praise the Lord, and pass the sunscreen.

Kalloo, Kallay! Tomorrow is garbage day!

Out with the old, the older, and the oldest:

Wait till you hear how long I go between oil changes...

I need to pray more.

Jesus told us and showed us how to pray. See Mt 6.

Allow me to provide a few extra-Biblical tips on how NOT to pray, taken partially from recent incidents and apocryphal examples.

1. During the singing part of corporate worship, prayer should not be used as segue from one song to the next. That’s not to say that it couldn’t be something that happens in between two songs; it most certainly could (and should). But I have to question the genuineness of a prayer that begins by echoing the last line of the previous song and finishes with the text of the first line of the next song. To me, that’s not always a prayer; that’s like a scripted part of a show.

2. Prayer should not be used
2.1 to provide information to other prayer participants

Good: “... we pray, too, for Roberta who will be having surgery ...”
Bad: “... we pray, too, for Roberta, who most people here don’t know but who is Rosaline’s mother’s cousin, who had been battling cancer for years before it went in to remission, in your sovereignty, and which has returned...”

2.2 to practice politics or to preach

Good: “... thank you for your forgiveness. Please forgive me for my sins of...”
Bad: “... please remind us all that forgiveness is only from you, even for the Democrats that are on the wrong side of the political issues...”

2.3 to give stage directions

Good: (to the audience) “You may be seated.” (to God) “Lord, please hear our prayers.”
Bad: “Dear Lord, we are here to lift up your name, as we may be seated...”

We’re praying to God through Jesus. We should talk to him, not each other.

3. Prayer time should not be used to generate holier-than-thou blog content by easily annoyed people.

Truth helps us; truth comforts us; truth warns us. The truth will set you free.

Despite its benefits, though, we often like to avoid the truth. Why? Because the truth can hurt.

How you deal with the truth and/or hurt can show your own level of maturity.

Tonight I head to bed with the satisfaction of knowing that at least one local supermarket employee has grown a little today. She faced the obvious hurt of the truth and is better for it. She now knows that canned baby corns (aisle 7) are not the same as green peppercorns in brine (which, apparently, are not available at all).

I learned some truth, too: Peppercorns? In brine? Boy, am I snooty.

If you're ever flying through Minneapolis and have a 6-hour mid-day layover, I can hook you up with a guy who just might take you geocaching if you buy him a pulled-pork lunch.

Until that happens, maybe you can come out with me (and/or whoever I'm sponging off of for GPS access). I went out geocaching today, and Justin wrote up a thing about it here.

In a related note: I realized that I could stand to own some water-proof gloves.