The county fire chief’s last name is Smoke.

There is an NFL kicker with the last name of Longwell.

A family in a neighboring church has the last name of Tall.  Everyone in the family has a really long face.

Our mechanic at work is named Miles.

One of the coordinators for the local Salmon Festival has the last name of Fish.

You get the idea.  So I’d like to hear some of yours.  And I’m still looking for what this phenomena is called.

So I got to thinking and if any of my future family members ever dig up this blog 200 years from now, I’ll fill them in on a story or two from my past that I hope they find interesting.

When I was in 2nd grade, my family moved from Seattle to Phoenix.  This was because Boeing went into the tank financially and everyone lost their job.  This directly affected my dad who was a plumber and so he had to find work elsewhere to keep us in Toughskins.

The move to Phoenix was hard for me.  All my friends and cousins were in the northwest and I never really bonded with anyone in Arizona.  We lived there for only a year until things turned around enough with the economy to return to Seattle.

In Washington, we lived in a nice house out in the country, but in Phoenix we had to live in an apartment which was right next to the school I attended.  I can still remember the walk which was only a block away, but seemed a mile in the 100+ degree heat.

In our apartment complex, we lived right next to a nice single lady whom I shared a bedroom wall with.  Across the grassy area lived my 2nd grade teacher with her husband.  This part of town was pretty rough and we were always getting our stuff stolen.

One morning I got up and my parents were all abuzz with excitement about what had happened just a few hours before.  It seems that the neighbor lady got a knock on her front door early in the morning so she got out of bed to investigate.  Looking through the peep hole, she didn’t see anyone but when she returned to her bedroom, there was some guy crawling halfway through her window.

What this dude didn’t realize was that she slept with a loaded shotgun and upon seeing the weapon pointed at him, he scrambled back out the window and ran down the sidewalk.  She went to the window, took aim and let him have it.  I don’t know if she hit him or not, but I’m sure she left an impression.

What was interesting was that she unloaded her gun about 6 feet from my head just on the other side of the wall, and I slept through the whole thing.  My whole family woke up from the noise, but not me.  Even my teacher mentioned it in class; how her wall got sprayed by the neighbor, but to me it was only a dream.

That’s basically how I feel about writing this week.

On Sunday I finished my latest project and didn’t have anything in the near or far future to work on.  Monday came and I got another job being the IT person at the local church school.  So instead of doing 3d stuff in the evenings, I now stop by the school after work and spend a couple of hours reviving computers and programming phones.

Instead of hiding in the corner of my home office at night, I now work with the people who teach my kids each day.  I get home at a decent hour and have my evenings free; wandering the halls wondering what to do with myself.    For now, I kind of like this transition.  Things are new and challenging.  I’m trying to survive the next couple of months by not erasing any critical data or wiping out the buttons on staff phones.  If I can make it to summer vacation time, I will be able to work without stepping on so many egg shells because if I screw anything up, I’ve got time to fix it.

For the past year, I’ve been looking at job boards for something to take the place of my failing business.  I believe God plopped this right into my lap as an answer to many prayers.  With 5 kids needing tuition each month, things were getting pretty tight as the royalties kept falling.  Now, there’s not as much need to tighten the belt and we can get back to saving for college.

As jobs go, it is ideal.  10 to 15 hours a week.  I work with many of my friends.  There’s no set start or stop time.  And it is something I enjoy.  What a blessing.  It’s a new day with new challenges that need to be conquered.

They left mid afternoon so they’d have plenty of time to find the place. Half an hour before the concert started, I called to see if they arrived ok. I’ll pause the story here to let you in on a couple of necessary points.

My wife is an aspiring singer and loves to attend small concerts like this one to enjoy as well as learn from the artists she listens to. So before the concert started, she and my daughter were invited back stage to hang out with Paul Colman as an extended meet and greet thing.

Back to the story. The phone rings and this heavy Australian accent greets me;

Paul: Hello, who is this?

Me: Oh, hi. I just wanted to see if…(I can hear my wife and daughter laughing in the background)

Paul: I’m sorry, but your wife can’t make it to the phone right now, can I leave a message?

Me: Is this her agent?

Paul: Yes, that’s right, now how may I help you?

Me: I wanted to ask her if we could book her at Wembley Stadium in London for a show.

Paul: Hmm, I just don’t think that is going to work.

Me: Why, is the venue too small?

Paul: That’s it exactly, we need something bigger.

Me: What?

Paul: I’ve got to go now, it was good talking with you. Click

My wife told me later that he started laughing after he hung up and said, “Boy, he’s a sassy one isn’t he?”

From what they said, the show was great and they had a wonderful time.

The only problem is that it attracts hikers. And since the trailhead is just outside the front door, there is a constant stream of cars, kids and dogs invading what is normally a very peaceful and secluded neighborhood.

Parking has always been an issue between the neighbors and hikers. Signs have been posted and torn down. Neighbors are constantly yelling at hikers that they can’t park here or there and hikers tell the neighbors to take a hike.

The city fathers in their infinite wisdom have proposed a solution that will be embraced by both sides; a parking lot with picnic area and toilet. The hikers thought this was a grand idea, but the neighbors thought, “There goes the neighborhood!”

So for the past few years, we’ve had meetings where we plan and scheme our next moves to thwart the efforts of the city to put in a new Lover’s Lane or Drug Drive. For the most part, we’ve been successful. As city budgets go, there isn’t any money to build and the county fathers hate the city planners, so there’s been that support also.

What I find interesting during these meetings is that there seems to be two camps of people. Those who won’t let go of the past and those who want to work toward a decent future with boundaries in place.

Those that live in the past will tell the same stories at each meeting. “Back about 20 years or so ago, a dog came off the trail and into my yard, killing one of my chickens.” Or, “When I was a kid, we had a guy ride his bike through our yard to get to the trail. Can you believe it?”

The future people will talk about their discussions with the city planners and how they wouldn’t mind a parking lot, but would deny the right to access it if a toilet were installed. And on and on it goes.

The whole reason I bring this up is that when I look at the personal relationships that these people have, it mirrors the stories that they tell at these meetings. The ones who have been divorced several times are the same folks who are always bringing up the past bad experiences with the trail users, and the ones who are willing to compromise are the folks who seem to have their marriages solidly in tact. Coincidence? I don’t think so. If you pound someone about their past failings year after year, there’s bound to be a breaking point somewhere. Yet if you’re willing to listen to the other side even though you don’t agree with them, you’re more likely to move toward instead of away from that person.

In two weeks, the trail will open to bikers, hikers and families taking their dogs for a walk (most of which will be leashless) all trying to find a place to park. And me, I’m greasing up the bike to dodge all of them.

I never got what that meant back in the 80′s when I first saw the movie, but boy do I get it now.  Life seems to be like hair color.  The younger you are, the more color flows into the follicles.  As you get older, the life seems to drain from your head and you go gray.

What is it about getting older that seems to drain your life away?  I can remember just 10 years ago the things that I liked doing and what got me jazzed up.  When I think about that stuff now, I can’t imagine why I was so interested.  The more honest people in my life will come up to me and say stuff like, “You used to be funny, now you’re not.  What happened?”.

I talked to my dad tonight as it is his 76th birthday.  I asked him what he did for the big day, and he said he vacuumed the house and went to Costco.  No cake, no presents, no nothing.  A few decades ago, all the relatives would come over and we’d have a huge party.  Fast forward and it’s just another day.

I don’t want to sound like I’m coming off depressed or anything.  I’ve got a great life and family.  I’ve been greatly blessed, but the rose tint is starting to come off my glasses.  It takes more energy as I get older to be involved with my kids and marriage.  It takes more effort to be funny and clever.  It’s taking more time to be interested in people.

In Matthew 18 it says;  “For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, ‘I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.’”

That is where I’d like to be.  Full of hope and wonder about what God is going to do in my life today.  I don’t want my heart to die and miss out on anything.

What about you?  Do you notice that as you get older, the world gets more gray?

What I found interesting is that many of the minimum wage employees who come from difficult backgrounds have a fire that drives them on to success even though they have no means to get there.  Many of the younger ones work odd hours so they can attend college or trade school during the day.  The CEO’s take notice and end up giving them an internship or scholarship because they can spot someone with potential.

Right or wrong, I end up comparing my older kids to these TV kids and I can’t help but wonder what is the catalyst for motivation?  Why is it that a comfortable life leads to a lackadaisical attitude?

When I ask my teenagers what they want to do with their lives, they can’t think past sitting in their rooms in front of a computer chatting with their friends.  Career talk brings only blank stares.  But the kids on TV know what they want and have a plan to get there.

So why does motivation come from agitation or irritation?  When a natural pearl is formed, an irritant is covered with layers of calcium carbonate that over the years produces a translucent object of beauty and value.  Are kids the same way?  Do they need some kind of irritation to spark them into looking past the next dinner bell?

Last year my oldest daughter who just started college was given an opportunity that fits her perfectly.  It has a huge potential for profit and could go a long way in paying for her school bills along with launching a successful career.  Even though she loves the subject matter, a very minimal amount of effort has been put into it.  If I ask how she’s doing, a string of excuses flies out about how she needs to do such and such before so and so happens and how busy she is with school etc. etc.  Like I said before, most of her spare time is spent online chatting with friends.

So my plan is to create an irritant.  I’m going to tell her that the next year of community college will be on her and that mom and dad won’t be able to help out next time.  If she were to get a minimum wage job all summer and work a few hours a week during the school year, she’d have it covered.  If not, then too bad.  Her brother is next in my sights;  mom and dad are tired of making up the difference in the mission trip fund, but that’s a story for another time.

Does God do this also?  Sin places an irritant inside us that he covers over time to produce something beautiful?

So stay tuned and I’ll let you know how it goes with her.  Do you have an unmotivated person in your life that needs agitation?

Both skiers are excellent at what they do and are basically even when it comes to accolades and medals.  So why does Marcia, I mean Lindsey, get all the attention?  Pointing out the elephant in the room, it is because of her looks.  Julia wasn’t asked to be a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model nor does she get the same amount of face time on TV.  Why?  Because she isn’t as cute as Lindsey.

What drives me nuts is that every aspect of our lives is governed by how tall, thin or good looking we are.  Here’s another elephant for you, and please know that I’m as conservative as they come.  For the life of me, I can’t figure out why Sarah Palin is so popular in the conservative movement.  She doesn’t seem to know what she’s talking about in any of her interviews and yet the media is falling all over themselves to get her on TV.  Why is that?  It’s because of her looks!  If she resembled Mother Teresa, do you think that anyone would give her the time of day?

My co-workers just love her and even have a poster of her on the wall.  Do you think they would put up a picture of Alan Keyes?  No way!  If looks were off the table as far as political (or athletic) points go, would Palin still be around?  Definitely not.

So the next time you feel butterflies in your stomach the next time a handsome or beautiful leader wants you to follow them, take a moment and ask yourself this question.  How would Jan feel?