The Bionic Bathroom

I am in awe of how automated bathrooms are becoming. You really have very little to do anymore. When you are finished doing your thing (and sometimes before) the toilet will flush itself. Stick out your hand and there’s a dollop of hand soap. Another motion and soothing water flows in the sink. With a final wave, the paper towel dispenser will roll out a totally insufficient quantity of drying material. I have found that the proper amount of paper towel takes two and a half waves, but the final half wave requires great coordination.

There are even some rest areas that combine the soap, water and hand dryer in one place under the spigot. It takes quite a lot of practice to get the timing and movement right for a successful hand cleansing.

Another favorite are the industrial strength dryers popping up at some service stations. They employ a small jet engine with enough power to actually move the skin around to the other side of your hand. Watch out, small children may be blown clear across the room.

Technology is great and I’m all for convenience, but I think we’ve gone far enough. Any other activities I do in the restroom, I’d rather not have assistance with. Some things should remain “hands on.”

Blueteeth???

I don’t understand the whole “Bluetooth” thing. I get the wireless connectivity part, but where did they get the name “Bluetooth”? That sounds like a dental condition in Arkansas, or maybe the result of drinking too many grape slurpees. Whatever the case, I have joined the Bluetooth generation.

I have teased, joked and complained about people with little silver headpieces hanging from their ears, but the other day our Office Supply store had a great sale and I couldn’t help myself. I reasoned that Pam would be pleased at me not holding my phone while driving and the safety issues alone made buying a wireless headset the only responsible choice.

The first step in using a bluetooth headset is to “pair” it with your phone. This is a time when the two devices get to know each other, have a little dinner, maybe a movie, and decide if this relationship is worth pursuing. I felt a little embarrassed and almost left the room to give them a bit of privacy. All went well and they are now a couple.

Everything was going fine until I realized that my laptop also has Bluetooth. I’m thinking, “What for? It doesn’t need to make phone calls.” Now I’m starting to suspect my computer and my cellphone have a little thing going behind my back. I feel violated. Does the headset know? How are we all supposed to feel about this? I thought marriage took a lot of work, technology is killing me!

Did Ya Hear The One About...

My seventh grader cornered me last night with an interesting question - "Dad, I need a joke for school tomorrow."

Apparently her assignment in Speech and Drama class was to tell a joke to the class. Wow, this is my kind of homework! At least a dozen jokes instantly flooded my brain. Now it was time for some filtering. It needs to be appropriate, clean and something a seventh grader would understand. First I knocked out all the religious jokes so no one would be offended and that would not be appropriate. Next I considered the jokes pastors share with me, but I couldn't think of any clean ones. I also dismissed anything relating to body parts or bodily functions. I was starting to worry, my list was getting pretty short. Finally we settled on this one.

-----
Two guys were talking about their favorite restaurants. The first guy says, "Oh, I'm so bad with names. It's a flower... comes in bunches... has thorns..."

"You mean a rose?"

"Yeah, that's it. Hey Rose, what was the name of that restaurant we ate at last night?"
-----

My daughter practiced, got all the inflections just perfect and shared it with the class today.

They didn't get it. And these are the leaders of tomorrow? I'm scared.

The Glamorous Life

OK, this blog is supposed to be about me the songwriter and I've hardly mentioned anything musical since I started. Never fear, the waves of inspiration have tickled my toes a bit. Here are a couple of verses I wrote last week. Of course they came at one o'clock in the morning! I didn't want to wake everybody, so I shut myself in the bathroom. There I was, sitting on the toilet scribbling lines on the inside cover of a Bible word-search book. The glamour of it all!

-----
The hand that writes my life is unseen but not unfelt,
Sometimes I snatch the pen to write a line myself.
The words I write are grand, but oh so hard to rhyme,
And the rhythm of my heart is often slightly out of time.

So I relinquish and release my tight grip on the pen,
It’s not long before I see the pieces fit again.
The melody is sweet and the harmony is strong,
When the savior of my soul is the writer of my song.
-----
© 2007 Phil Morgan - Jammin' Gentile Music, BMI.

This will probably be radically altered and edited when it transforms into a song, but I like the idea. Thars some truth in thar, matey!

Spel Chek

DISCLAIMER: I’m not mad, sad, happy, frustrated, judgmental or vindictive toward any event or person in the following account. I’m also not trying to build anyone up or put anyone down. This is just a perfect example of how life can be ironic...

My oldest daughter handed me her graded social studies test this evening. She got a “B”. The good news was there was only one question she actually missed on the entire test. The bad news was that correct spelling counted and she had some trouble with words like Australia, Antarctica and equator. I told her I was very proud that she had mastered the content, and this was a good lesson that spelling is important.

The one question she did answer incorrectly was this - "When it is winter in North America, what season is it in Australia?" She answered, “winter”. The teacher marked that out and wrote in “sumer”.

Life On The Cutting Edge

Today I decided to redesign the inside of my equipment trailer. Every few years the efficiency guru hiding inside me comes out for a check-up and today was the day.

The morning started out a bit rough. While unloading the trailer, one of my two-wheel carts locked up. I tugged and tugged and it finally broke free, taking a big hunk of the end of my finger with it. This would have probably been a good time to consider the fact that I make my living playing the piano and working on the computer, both of which are fairly finger intensive activities. Nope, that never crossed my mind. I washed off the blood, stuck most of the flap of skin back where I think it was originally, slapped some tape on it and off I went! (Before you freak out on me, it wasn't really that serious an injury and I'm sure it will heal fine in a few days... I hope.)

I decided some shelves would add a nice touch along one wall, which meant only one thing... I got to use my POWER TOOLS!!!!! Most of the tools I have once belonged to my father. Dad was also an efficiency buff and knew all those safety guards just slow you down, so he took them off. It's pretty cool - big, sharp saw blades spinning right out in the open like a James Bond finale. It's easy to see what you're doing, because there's nothing between you and impending injury but sawdust-filled air. You must pay close attention or it's bye-bye gloves, hello mittens.

As I sit here at my desk at the end of the day, I think back on all the boards I pushed through the table saw, by hand of course. (No further injuries, praise the Lord!) I just realized something - I'm not very smart. Anyone who does what I do should be a little more protective of his phalanges (that's finger bones in case you were wondering). Why does that seem so clear to me now that I'm finished? Maybe I should blog BEFORE I build. There's an interesting idea...

High (Tech) Rollers

Our local roller rink has WiFi. Who would have thought? Tonight is PTA skate night and here I am with my third grader. I asked if it was OK for me to take my laptop and do a little work while she was going around in circles. I got the go-ahead. Imagine my surprise when I opened my macBook and up popped a wireless internet connection! How cool.

I can't chat long, there are important things to do. The limbo contest just finished, I'm bopping to "Hey Mickey" and waiting for the evening's highlight - the Chicken Dance/Hokey Pokey marathon.

Maybe tonight will be the night when they call our ticket number and we'll win the big pickle! Life don't get much better than that!

Greetings from the Road!

It is a beautiful, cool Sunday afternoon, Pam is driving and I am sitting beside her with laptop on lap. We had a great concert this morning in Blairsburg, IA and are headed home. No concert tonight so we get to see our kiddos! Yeah!!!

Pam and I just filled up with gas in Des Moines. (Here's a picture of us in the car at the station!) > > > > >
We had an interesting discussion about Esther, our GPS. She (Esther that is) gets upset when we make stops off our designated route. She rattles off a constant stream of “RECALCULATING”, “RECALCULATING” and gives us updated directions to get back on track. She doesn’t say anything else, but you can hear the contempt in her voice. I know what she’s thinking, “Stupid humans, can’t you even follow simple directions?” Sometimes she gets so worked up we have to turn her volume off until we get back on the highway.

Anyhow, Pam and I were pondering why GPS units have female voices. We decided it must be something like this. Men are so used to having women tell them where to go they follow without question. Women, on the other hand, know that men never ask for directions even when we’re lost, so why should they trust a computerized man to get them to the right place. I’ve seen Pam argue with our GPS about a better way to get where we are going. A male GPS would probably just say, “Yes, dear.”

Whatever the case, Esther is our friend and we love her. Which brings up another question. Why do people name their GPSs? Hmmmm...

Are You a Chip or a Dip?

This morning I went for a walk with the famous bible teacher J. Vernon McGee. He wasn't actually there, since he passed away in 1988, but he did share his thoughts courtesy of my mp3 player. JV said something that really stuck in my head. He was talking about Matthew 5 when Jesus called us to be "salt of the earth." He added, "salt is supposed to make you thirsty." What a great thought! Our job is not to meet everybody's needs. Our job is to make them thirsty for Jesus, the "living water," who is the only one that can meet all their needs.

My favorite salty food is chips. Any kind, any flavor, any time of the day. I especially love Mexican restaurants where you get a big bowl of chips the moment you sit down. You can't help but dig in. That's what I want my life to be - a big bowl of tortilla chips. You may prefer to be more of a pretzel, Frito or even the ever popular cheese puff. It doesn't matter, we're all appetizers and Jesus is the meal. Yummy!

Light My Fire - NOT!

First it was exploding gas stations, then smoking sewers, and now...

I received a recall notice in the mail for my van. Apparently the company has discovered a defect in the cruise control switch which they will fix it if I take my car to my nearest dealer. No problem, that sounds pretty minor. I read on in the letter and found that the repair will involve installing a fuse and will only take a few minutes. Then I come to this sentence, "Until you have the recall service performed, park your vehicle away from structures to prevent a potential underhood fire from spreading."

Wait a minute! This is the same van that has been parked in my garage for the last seven years. Have we been living with a "potential fire" right under our roof all this time? My family, hovering on the brink of a fiery death and totally unaware. That's somewhat disturbing.

Trust me, I'm not the paranoid type. I haven't rushed to the car dealer, quaking with fear. I'll stop in sometime this week when I'm out and about. It does make me think that there is probably more danger around than I'm aware of. That makes me glad God is watching over me. I'll sleep sound tonight, even though the van is parked in the garage.

Keepin' It Between The Lines

I have a new book to read. Before bed tonight, my oldest daughter brought me the 14th and final book in the "Remnants" series. This is a sci-fi book about a small band of survivors after a huge meteor has destroyed the earth. Bummer. For the last year and a half, we have been reading these books together. It became kind of a friendly competition to see who would finish the next one first. Many times she has gotten frustrated with me, because I'm a faster reader and would pull into the lead. For this final book, I was the gracious dad and promised not to start until my daughter finished. Reading a story big enough to fill 14 books is quite an accomplishment, and I didn't want to ruin it for her.

The best part is, these books have been another way for us to connect. My reading shows her that I am interested in her world. Better yet, it gives us something to talk about that is just between us. Nobody else has a clue who Jobs and MoSteel are and who will be next to go worm. It is our own special world, as big as our imagination, but small enough to be cozy for two.

It's not really the words we read that are important. The important ones are not in print at all. I hope my sweetheart looks close enough to see the real message. For you see, there is an "I love you" between each line.