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I'm really having trouble coming up with new content.. But let me share this moment of my day today.

Bright and early, on my way to work this morning, I was riding with my Aunt Paula, who also works at the Minnehaha Academy. (MA) In the middle of the road, there was a duck, litterally standing there, not moving at all. When we drove a little closer, we noticed that it's beak was tucked in behind the feathers on its back, and was sleeping. Right there. In the middle of the road.

Thought it was kinda weird.

I'm trying to come up with some spiritual warning against falling asleep in the middle of the road like this duck, but I'll let you draw your own conclusions about that.

Card Key Gymnastics

As an employee at Minnehaha Academy, part of my job is to sit at a desk and watch a monitor that shows security cam footage of the front door. When people come, I have been instructed to click two buttons, ask then what they are at the school for, and then let them in based on how they reply. Then, if they seem to check out, I click another button to unlock the door and let them in.

However, this is not the only means for people to enter the building. Full time employees at Minnehaha are given card keys that broadcast a very short distance signal to the receiver on the side of the building, requiring the carriers to bring the key within inches of the wall. Often times, these workers will be carrying a purse, bag, or other miscellaneous objects, making it difficult for them to get at their key card. As a result, they will not bother getting it out, and will try to activate it without removing it from, say, their front pants pocket. Then, they will lift their leg up a little and swing their leg towards the wall to touch it to the receiver. Sitting here, watching the monitor, I've seen people: hip check the wall, turn around and poke their butts against the key card detector. Also, people have jammed purses, wallets, and bags against the receiver, and even hold it in their teeth bending over to waist-height to open the door. Because of this, I, almost sadistically, wait to see how they would open the door with their card key.

I'll prolly keep a running commentary of all the ways that people have "carded in."

Comments and Updates

Two things:

I had a sad experience the other day. Seth P. told me that he read an update on the blog he thought was really funny. Shortly thereafter, I asked him if he had left a comment. He replied negative. It was super depressing, because I rely on comments and feedback in order for (1), knowing when people have read the entry, and (2), improving my writing for your enjoyment. So, you should leave a comment, even if it's just, "nice." or something like that. o.0

Also, I've been thinking about setting up a contact list in my email, and adding "subscriptions" so that you can know when I've made an update. If you want to "subscribe," lemme know, and I will add you to the list, and send you updates when I make a new post. This way, you don't have to check back every time, you can just jump straight to the post. :)

Thanks a bunch,
Paul

Stylin'

A guy walks into a store and starts searching for a new shirt to wear. Confronted with many decisions on what color, size, and shape the shirt he wants will be, he chooses a particular article. Taking his clothing to a dressing room, he tries it on. Admiring it for a second, he murmurs to himself, “This shirt just isn't my style.”

I've come to believe that an attitude and phrasing of a personal style is false: without a preconceived view of someone's “style” there cannot be an article of clothing out of style for an individual.

We are especially swayed by our own opinion of what our style is. For instance, a v neck t-shirt is slightly different from a crew cut. Since I've only ever worn crew neck, I tend to believe that v neck isn't my style. If I were to put it on, I know that would be out of the ordinary to wear such a thing. Also, if people I knew were around me saw it, they would also think it wasn't my style.

Here's the thing: without a preconceived notion of what my style is, bystanders who've never seen me before would not suspect anything, and decide that v neck was my style. Thus, if I wore a crew neck around them after a while of wearing nothing but v necks, they'd see me as though I was breaking my unwritten “code.”

I've attempted a few social experiments of my own, going to movie theaters or dinners dressed in ways that I normally wouldn't even consider wearing to a party with my closest friend, and every time, I've received the same reaction: none. I wasn't out of my style in their eyes.

Therefore, why are we so afraid of changing it up a little bit here and there? Why don't we make it a style to not have one?

Big, Orange, and Pointy

Katie and I decided the other night that we would grab a McFlurry from McDonalds, and then run over to Centennial Lakes park to immediately walk off the extra calories. While there, we noticed a swing that we had sat on once or twice. On it were two, large cones. With a coy smile, I pointed out that it would be pretty uncomfortable to sit on.

Katie replied with a chuckle, "What do they call it? A.. Col-.. Colonoscopy!"

I turned around with a smile, "No, not in this case, this would be a coneoscopy!"

She's Pregnant?

While monitoring the front door at Minnehaha academy as a part of my summer job with the school, I was waiting around for people to come to the door when amazing news struck the main office: Tommy's wife was pregnant.

Who Tommy was or what he was all about still evades me, but as soon as the receptionist broke the news, shrieks, squeals, and screams of joy and wonder flooded the rather large room. Even so, up to 45 minutes after the fact, the ladies in the office picked up the office phone and called more and more people, re-emphasizing the excitement time and time again, even justifying a few long-distance “business-calls” to express their exuberance with others.

Why is this? Certainly it is a joyous occasion, but how could it elicit such a reaction? Had it have been a room of guys, I would presume the reaction would have been something more like, “Mike.. That tiger.. Rawr.” This would come along with some fist bumping, or something of the sort.

At the same time, I envy women this ability to express their joy and excitement; often I find it extremely difficult to do the same. I would imagine that it would be taken in the wrong way if I were to run around with my guy-friends, yipping, yelling, and “YES!-ing.” How do we get away with it, guys? How would we express our joys that “She's Pregnant?”

Keep Lookin'

In order to celebrate my long-awaited graduation from high school, my friend and I, Jonathan Wormgoor, celebrated an open house a couple days ago. I was chatting with my dad, when I noticed a frisbee. Turning around to find someone to throw it to, I noticed a little boy expectantly waiting for me to throw it to him. How could I resist?

Keeping in mind my relative size and strength to him, I carefully calculated the precise power that it would take to gently throw it to him. As the frisbee lofted through the air towards him, everything was going seamlessly. At least, until it did until he looked away.

About a foot from him, he cringed, turned, and altogether missed the frisbee. Being a baseball player, I am very well versed in the “keep your eyes on the ball” adage, but nothing could be farther from the truth. After one more try, hoping he would get it on his own, I grinned, walked to him, and taught in a gentle, loving way what he was doing wrong.

“Make sure that you never look away,” I explained, holding the frisbee a few feet from myself, slowly moving it closer, simulating the flight of the disk, “If you keep looking, you can catch it better.”

That was all he needed. With a small, shy nod from the little boy, we were off again. I stepped back to my position a few feet away as he scampered away to his. With another precision toss, I wafted the frisbee back towards him. As it got closer and closer, I saw he understood what I had carefully taught him. He reached forward, maintained his vision, and snagged the frisbee out of the air with the confidence of a pro.

Huge smile. He flung the frisbee right back, even more excited than before.

After a few more minutes of calm tossing, the young boy's friend noticed what we were doing and decided to get in on the action. Golden hair bouncing in the summer sun, he trotted over, requesting permission to join in. With a quick, affirming glance towards the former participant, I tossed the disk towards the newcomer.

Like the first boy, as it arrived in his hands, he backed down and failed to catch the frisbee. Realizing his obvious blunder, the first boy ran to his side immediately, picked up the frisbee, and held it out, as I had, moments ago, telling him that, “No! No! You gotta keep lookin' at it whole time!”

How often have I not noticed that I have such a great power as to affect not just the person that I am interacting with, but also those of the ones that they mix with? Measuring words has such a great meaning when we keep in mind how many people we can affect.

We gotta keep lookin'.