His Today (Dedicated to...)

Don't hide your face

There is no need for you to be ashamed

God sends his grace

To everyone who calls upon his name

He will leave the ninety-nine to come and find you

There is no one so far gone he can't redeem

And the joy of his salvation will bring purpose to your life

And the hope of resolution for your dreams

 

(Chorus)

You were broken as a child

And the pain has grown inside you

While the ones supposed to care for you

Just looked the other way

Let me lead you to the Lord

And the love that's waiting for you

Will pour upon you like a flood

And wash your tears away

Come to Christ and listen to him say

You are his today

 

I can't begin

To be the friend I wish that I could be

I have my sins

And I know I let you down repeatedly

But I'll lay down my life if I have to

To keep you safe and free from harm

How could I do less when that's what Jesus did for me

So let him be your shelter from the storm

 

Chorus

 

Christ knows your pain

Cause he bore it on the cross

And conquered the power of the grave

He lights the way

For the weak and the lost

And there is no one that he cannot save

 

Chorus

 

Always Faithful

Long before I knew myself
You knew me
You gave me more than life itself
You saved me

When I stumble, when I fall
You will see me through it all
Always faithful, always true
All I can do
Is live for you

Without you Lord I cannot stand
You lift me
Your love I'll never understand
You bless me

You said you'd always be my friend
You'd be with me until the end
Always faithful, always true
All I can do
Is live for you

Always faithful (Always faithful)
Always faithful (always faithful)
Always wonderful and true
Always faithful (always faithful)
Always faithful (always faithful)
Your love will lead me back to you

Always faithful, always true
I can't believe the things you do
Always faithful, always true
All I can do
Is live for you

Always faithful, always true
Your love will always see me through
Always faithful, always true
All I can do
Is live for you

He Was Here

I was happy
To do for myself
Never needed anyone
To hold my hand

I had a mansion
Of achievement
But it's foundation was made
Of shifting sand

And when it started crashing down
For all the world to see
I began to hear of voice call out to me

He was here inside of me
And there he stood with open arms inviting me
He was here in spite of me
And I'll never know the reason of
The gift of his unending love
The only thing I know is he was here

I hit rock bottom
And started digging
All the habits in my life
Assumed control

I couldn't stand it
Any longer
I just had to find some help
To heal my soul

It was then I got down off my feet
And onto bended knee
And called upon the Lord to set me free

Chorus

Society tells us the power is within
There is no need to wish upon a star
But you can tell Oprah and People Magazine
That they don't know just how right they are

'Cause he is here inside of me
And there he stands with open arms inviting me
He is here in spite of me
And I'll never know the reason of
The gift of his unending love
The only thing I know is he is here

Here
He was and is
And always will be here

The DMV Chronicles

Last week I took off from work early to cart the teenager over to the DMV so he could take the written test and get his learner's permit. This in itself is proof positive of two undeniable facts; I'm getting old (which really needed no further confirmation, thank you very much) and I am a glutton for punishment.

We rolled in and were greeted by a line of about 50 or so people extending out the door and around the side of the building. In a not unrelated development, there was absolutely no available parking. Had the dumbasses in line made appointments (like the one that we were in imminent danger of missing) then they wouldn't have had to stand in line and I wouldn't have had to circle the parking lot three times before finally giving up and parking at the gas station across the street. I really hate people sometimes.

After convincing the security puke to let us in the fun began in earnest. First of all, it was more crowded than I've ever seen, and smelled like it too. Considering the thankless (but extremely well compensated) jobs the people there were performing, they weren't as surly and sullen as could be expected, especially since their clientele wasn't the sharpest, as evidenced by the failure to mail in their registration paperwork on time, or to make a bloody appointment! Bitter? Yes I am.

Stand in this line. Fill this out. Go wait over there until your number is called.

A half hour later, it finally was. Good thing too, because if I had to listen to the screaming baby with the indifferent mom for one more second I was going to commit random acts of violence upon personnel and property. Which would have been unfortunate as it would have delayed the process longer. I had somewhere to be later; the police station wasn't it.

Another line, this time to receive the testing materials. Progress! More waiting, this time with no place to sit.

6 missed out of 46. 8 allowed. I am now the proud parent of a semi-licensed driver. My life has officially become more complicated.

I am so not ready for this.

Keys To My Heart

I have never felt this way before

I don't know where to begin

To show you how much my love for you

Has consumed me

 

There's a fire burning inside my heart

In a way that it's never been

It's out of control and it shows no signs

Of reducing

 

But I don't really care

If it leads me to my doom

As long as it's you who takes me there

 

I give you the keys to my heart

So open the door and stay forever

I give you my love from the start

And over and over again

 

I have fallen captive under your spell

You got your hooks in me

There is no way I could ever dream

Of escaping

 

You've awakened me from a fitful sleep

You opened my eyes to see

That nothing compares to the power of the love

That we're making

 

And I know that it's true

If you ever went away

My life would be nothing without you

 

I give you the keys to my heart

So open the door and stay forever

I give you my love from the start

And over and over again

 

My destiny calls to me

Pulling me constantly

Drawing me close to your side

 

I give you the keys to my heart

So open the door and stay forever

I give you my love from the start

I know that we always will be together

I give you the keys to my heart

Deep down inside there's a buried treasure

I give you my love from the start

And over and over again

We Will Remember You

You fought the good fight

With a smile on your face

And handled all adversity

With character and grace

 

You were always aiming forward

And never looked behind

So full of generosity

No one was more kind

 

And though our hearts are breaking from the pain

We rejoice to know our loss is Heaven's gain

 

This is the day that we prayed would never come

The time has come for us to say goodbye

And hold to the faith that we'll someday meet again

And in the arms of God we'll softly lie

But for now all we can do is just survive

We will remember you

All the days of our lives

 

Neither death nor life

Can ever come between

God's children and the greatest love

This world has ever seen

 

A love that can see us through

Any trial or loss

The love that our Christ Jesus

Showed upon the cross

 

And since he won two thousand years before

We know that you will live forevermore

 

Chorus

 

Repeat chorus

 

We will remember you

All the days of our lives

Blessing

I hope I have your blessing

For what I want to do

But we have to find a way to go on

Living without you

 

I wish that I could take your place

And let you live again

But I know one day my time will come

And we'll see each other then

 

But for now until that day is here

I've got a job to do

To let them know that it's okay

Feeling happiness anew

Making memories that are never going

To ever include you

And I hope I have your blessing

 

 

I hope you can forgive me

For what I'm going to say

But I've been alone a long long time

And I'm living day to day

 

I know I can't replace you

And I wouldn't care to try

But sometimes I need a hand to hold

And a shoulder where I can cry

 

The boys are growing up so fast

Soon they'll be on their way

I don't want to live my life alone

Under clouds of grey

I want to fall in love again

This is what I pray

And I hope I have your blessing

 

I hope I have your blessing

 

I hope I have your blessing

Leave It At The Altar

You've given me your offering today
You spoke the words I taught you to say
But you're carrying such baggage
Deep within your heart
Don't you know it's keeping us apart

Leave it at the altar
Leave it all behind
Cast away the doubt and fear
That's troubling your mind
Leave it at the altar
Give it all to me
I'll give you everlasting life
I will set you free
Just leave it all to me

The memories you cannot seem to shake
The habits much too hard for you to break
All you need to do is ask
I'll take away your chains
They'll fade away til only love remains

I've forgiven you your sin
It don't matter anymore
Now it's time that you forgive yourself 
Your past does not define you
I've opened up the door
So hold onto me and nothing else

There'll be no more misery
If you leave it all to me

Well, it had to happen...

I've been nursing the tires on my pickup for weeks now, but one of them finally gave up the ghost this morning.  Completely flat.  Nail.  It appears that only having a millimeter of tread or so is not conducive to puncture resistance.  Who knew?

 

So, I hook up my little mini air compressor, and listen to it shake, rattle, and roll itself silly wile ever-so-slowly inflating the tire to temporary usefulness.  First, off to a quick doctor's appointment.  By the time that's done with, the tire is half flattened already.  Crap.  Looks like I'm going to be later to work than previously planned.

 

The guy at the tire store seems to be a friendly sort - right away I'm given a free oil change with purchase of four tires.  That works.  The bad news is that the cheapest set they have in stock is going to run me $156 per tire.  With alignment, wheel balancing, taxes, blah blah blah, that's going to set me back over $800.  This, boys and girls, is why I waited so long to begin with.

 

Turns out they have a set in their warehouse (wherever that is) for $135 each.  Fine, I'll take it.  They send a driver out - should be no more than a half hour, 45 minutes tops.

 

An hour and a half later, dude still hasn't shown up.  By this time, I've sat through the end of Regis & Kelly, and half of The View.  Any more of this and I am going to have to turn in my man card.  The store manager, who's a dead ringer for Big Dane from West Coast Customs gets involved.  Calls the driver - "Where are you?"  Still at the warehouse,  a half hour away.

 

This is very not good.  I should have been to work by now.  Forget it, just give me the more expensive set that's here in the building.

 

In the amount of time it would have taken the dumbass driver to get back, I've got a better set of tires for the cheaper agreed-upon price, with free protection plan, and offer to hook up the diagnostic machine at a later time to figure out what's causing that pesky Check Engine light that's been on for the last 50,000 miles or so.

 

I haven't yet decided if I'm happy about the whole situation, but at least it gave me something to blog about.

Back to School! Yay.

Went with the teenager to register him for 11th grade today. What fun.

Step 1 - Stand in line to turn in two pieces of paper. I probably should have filled them out (along with the rest of the packet) before getting in the line, instead of trying to use my own chest as a writing surface. Oh well. Proceed to step 2.

Step 2 - Another line! (What a shocker.) Turn in more paper. Write a check. How on earth is a yearbook $80? Proceed to... you get the idea.

Step 3 - Pictures. Write another check, give to teenager who stands in line by himself, while I get shunted off to a holding area with the other parents to sit in too-small desks and stare at each other.

Step 4 - Teenager re-enters, only to stand in another line, this time for the sole purpose of getting a little sticker on his freshly minted school ID so that he can go off campus for lunch. Added bonus: line goes past formaldehyde-filled glass box with dissected cat on display. Reactions of female passers-by almost worth the wait.

Step 5 - Yet another line, this time at school library to get books, all seven of them! Once again, adults kicked to the curb as students proceed inside unaccompanied. Exactly what do they think will happen otherwise? Already getting hot at 10:30 in the morning. What happened to starting school after Labor Day?

Mercifully it eventually comes to an end, as all things must. Drop off kid at home, drive to work.

Tomorrow I get to do the whole thing over again with his little brother at the middle school. Double yay.

Adventures in Plumbing

I came home Thursday evening to a flooded bathroom.  Ah, the joys of home (such as it is) ownership.  Turns out that one of the tank bolts in the toilet had snapped, and the water drained out of the tank through the mounting hole.  Happy happy joy joy.

 

Step one: shut off the water to the toilet.  Well, the valve actually turns (not always the case) but won't close the valve entirely, and the tank keeps getting replenished with water.

 

Buckets!  Every half hour.  No fun.  This lasts until bedtime.

 

Okay, here's the deal - everyone go use the toilet in the other bathroom now, and then the main water valve in the house is getting shut off.  Thankfully enough, this one works.

 

The next morning, I stop by the mecca of all guyness (aka The Home Depot) and pick up a hardware kit.  I find one for $6.  Not bad.  I head back home with it and instruct the teenager to do what he can to get the other bolt out so that I can install the new hardware.  Okay, dad.

 

After a long, uncomfortable day at work (no shower), I finally trudge home resolved that no matter how long this takes, I am going to get this fixed.  When I get there, I find out that a) the tank's still attached, b) the teenager has used about a half can of WD-40 on the bolt/nut combination, with no luck, and c) he had the flash of brilliance to wedge the can under the tank valve so that it would stop trying to fill the tank.  Nice.  I wish I had thought of that the night before.

 

The problem is, the damn tank is still attached.  Time to get creative.  Hacksaw!  If we can't unscrew it, we'll just cut the bolt in the middle.  There's not a whole lot of room, and only about an inch of travel for the saw blade, but it's enough, and 20 minutes later I finally have something I can work with.

 

You'd be surprised at how disgusting the area between tank and bowl can get.  Gack!

 

Reassembly with new brass hardware (no rust!) is a snap, and the toilet becomes one, non-leaky piece again in about an hour's time, from start to finish.

 

Manhood confirmed.

I am officially an underachiever. W00t!

I let myself get talked into taking the Mensa Admissions Test by one of the guys at work.  No, it doesn't test for gullibility.  Anyways, it's always been one of those "I wonder" things - could I really qualify?  Other than the accompanying social awkwardness, and the ability to run categories on "Jeopardy" (at least watching on TV), would I actually test well enough to get in?  I had to admit, the ego boost would be pretty nice.

 

Besides, there was a challenge on the table.  The gauntlet had been thrown down.  Game on!

 

So, there I went, shlepping myself down to CalTech, killing a Saturday morning in the process, to have my brain tossed about like a ship on the ocean.  Of course, my buddy doesn't show up.  Slacker!  I end up in a classroom with the proctor and six college-age kids, all bright eyed and bushy tailed.  I've never looked like these kids, not even 20-25 years ago when I was their age, nor went to the schools they were at - the aformentioned CalTech, USC, UCLA.

 

The proctor tells us that, on average, half of those that go so far as to take the test do not pass.  What the hell am I doing here?

 

We start off with the 50-question Wonderlic test - the same one the NFL gives to all the college players before the draft.  12 minutes.  Nobody ever finishes.  I get 45 answers written down that I feel pretty confident about.  So far, so good, but I'm still inwardly pissed that I didn't complete the whole thing.

 

Next comes the actual admissions test, 7 sections, 4-6 minutes per section.  When I finally leave, an hour and a half after starting, I feel as if I've been folded, spindled, and mutilated.

 

The test sheets get mailed back east.  We'll get something in the mail saying if we passed, with an invitation to join.  We can leave our email address if we want to find out sooner.

 

Well, it's ten days later and I got the email back.  Although I'll have to wait for the snail mail to deliver the actual results, the bottom line is that I'm in.  Hooray for me.  Does this mean I have to wear a pocket protector now?

 

Upon further investigation, I could have obtained my SAT scores from high school and saved myself the trouble.  C'est la vie.  Time will tell if they (or I) will regret this later.  I'm still somewhat embarassed by the whole thing.

 

Sure I am.  That's why I'm blogging about it.  Right.

 

Well, what the hell else do I have to talk about?

This is going to be short and sweet

...as I am composing this on my iPhone in a hotel room in Williams, AZ after spending two days at the Grand Canyon. It was simply more than the human mind can absorb at once.

First of all, stuff in the distance looks like a matte painting that changes depending on your point of view. There is no real way to judge "far" from "far", other than the fact that some stuff in front moves slightly in respect to the stuff in back. In other words, the parallax effect.

It's the closer in stuff that's really interesting. Every ten feet along the rim trail presents a new and wonderful camera shot, provided you have the guts to get close enough to the edge to take it. It's ridiculously scary dangerous. There's guard rails only in a few select locations. People routinely go out onto outcroppings of rock, inches from the edge, with drops of several hundred feet on either side. The mind boggles.

Anyways, here I am, face redder than the cliff face, after burning roll after roll of virtual film. Tomorrow, we head for home.

Why "Crunchy Frog"?

Well, I'm glad you asked! (Oh, I crack myself up.)

 

The first thing a prospective employer/loan officer/university admissions critter/anyone doing a background check does nowadays (or should do) when faced with making a decision on someone's future, is to see what's in his past.  Step one in that process is Google.

 

Sadly enough, if you searched on my name in Google, my home address and phone number show up on page 1.  This in itself is distressing enough for me, and makes me thankful for Caller ID.  The last thing I need showing up to accompany it is some political rant or off-color joke I made in a moment of weakness 5 years previously.

 

Yes, I know, "Don't post anything you wouldn't want to see on the front page of the New York Times."  I don't.  But even so, I don't want to miss out on a job opportunity because some unscrupulous HR critter decides he doesn't like Republicans, or heavy metal, or something completely unrelated to the topic.

 

Okay, but why "Crunchy Frog" specifically?  Because it's been my computer handle/screen name for the last 25 or so years, since the days of Bulletin Board Systems and Compuserve.  It's how I am known everywhere on the internet, with the exception of Facebook, where I use my real name.  It's the name that my future wife first came to know me by, and up until the day she died, I was her "Froggy" and she was my "Pooh Bear".

 

If you still don't get it, I suggest you acquaint yourself with the madcap brilliance that was Monty Python's Flying Circus.

Birthday musings

Well, it seems I've made it through another year.  Forty-four of them, but who's counting?  Besides Uncle Sam, the State of California, various insurance companies, etc...

 

I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.  Hell, I don't know what I want to do next week.  Some folks (myself included) would probably call that a lack of ambition.  I'm not so sure.  It's easy to be ambitious when you're brimming with self-confidence.  When the world is yours for taking. That's when you can make plans.  Not me.  I've always been well aware of my shortcomings.

 

A man's gotta know his limitations. - Inspector Harry Callahan

 

So, I muddle through, and do (not quite) my best with what I've got.  Try and be a good dad to my kids.  Continue the slow, arduous process of putting together a decent music catalog.  Volunteer at church.  Maybe learn to play an instrument.  It would certainly make songwriting easier.

 

I am going to be "teaching" (if that's a good approximation of what a Small Group Leader does) Communion to 15 or so boys (my own son included) for the next two years.  The prospect is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, as was the process of writing my faith story and delivering it to 100+ people.  (I may post it here at some point, most likely depending on how 'public' this blog becomes.)  Two years is an awful big commitment.

 

I suspect I will learn as much from them as they do from me.  And who knows, maybe one of them will have a single mom...

May the road rise to meet you

Known simply as "Irish Blessing", this has always been one of my favorite bits of... well, I don't know what to call it really.  Poetry?  Whatever you call it, it's a wonderful reminder that with apologies to David Gates (The Goodbye Girl), "Goodbye doesn't mean forever."  I've been toying with the idea of setting it to music, and have a chorus put together that I'm not thoroughly disgusted with.  Verses will of course take forver and a day to come up with, as always...

 

May the road rise to meet you

And the wind blow at your back

May the sun shine upon your face

And rain your fields never lack

Even though we go our separate ways

Do please understand

That until we meet again

May God hold you

In the palm of his hand

Be First

Be first in my heart

Be first in my soul

Be first in my mind

Be first

Be first in my strength

Be first in my faith

Be first in my life

Be first

 

You're the ruler of the nations

Lord of lords and king of kings

The master of the universe

Author of everything

You're a candle in the darkness

A lamp unto my feet

You make my spirit sing with joy

You make my life complete

 

Be first!

Too. Hot. To. Sleep.

Feels like I've spent the last two days on the surface of the sun. Summer has finally struck southern California, with a vengeance. It's been on the north side of 105, and tomorrow promises more of the same. Humid, too. So much so that thunderstorms have popped up in the AV, as well as Riverside and San Diego counties.
Where there's thunder, there's lightning, and resultant wildfires.

Oh joy, oh rapture.

I'll be on my way to the Grand Canyon a week from now. In July. Yes I am nuts - why do you ask?

Actually, the T-storms that are making life so pleasant here are supposed to roll through Arizona the beginning of next week, and by the time the weekend comes around, it should be sunny and 85. With the cactus in bloom.

I can live with that. If I can figure out how to upload pictures from my fancy-schmancy new camera, I'll put some in this space. If I still care enough to post.

I tried doing this once, years before. Didn't have a lot to say, didn't have much time to say it, and didn't really have a concept (oh, as opposed to now?) behind it. I think this time will be different. Already this is turning out to be a whole lot more autobiographical than originally planned. That's okay I guess. And if it's not, well, I do happen to be the one with the power to change what gets posted.

There's A House In Heaven

After taking a long look at the Blogger Terms of Service, I have come to the conclusion that Google is not going to assume ownership of any original material I post here.  Good.  I'd hate to have someone tell me I lost the copyright to my own songs!

 

This is the first worship song I ever wrote, and the second one overall.  No, I'm not going to post my first song.  Not now, at any rate :)

 

There's a house for me in heaven

Not for anything I've done

I was just a babe when it was built

But now that I am grown

I can see the shingles on the roof

And grass upon the lawn

I am his

I am his

 

In the name of the trinity

I was baptized to the Lord

I have pledged my life to Jesus Christ

And the promise of the word

Through the sacrament of bread and wine

My spirit is restored

I am his

I am his

 

Even though the flesh is given up to sin

I rejoice to know his spirit is within

And the day I draw my dying breath

Is the day I'll win

For that's the day my new life will begin

 

There's a house for me in heaven

And oh, what a sight to see

It was built in sacrificial love

By my Lord upon the tree

And I know that everlasting life

Is waiting there for me

I am his

I am his

"Here's a little song I wrote..."

I have an inordinate amount of other people's music taking up space in my head. So much so, that at random times a song lyric will pop into my conciousness that perfectly dovetails with the situation, mood, or conversation I find myself in. It's a little distracting sometimes.

It's also distressing when I try to write my own material. Many times I'll come up with lyric and melody (usually just a chorus; I can bang that much out in about ten minutes. The verses then take forever) and say to myself, "This sounds familiar." I then have to start googleing (is that even a word?) what I just wrote to see if it already exists elsewhere.

Kinda like the process of naming this blog.

Just what the world needs - yet another blog.

So why am I doing this? I'm getting old.

I suppose that beats the alternative.

I have noticed that with age, comes insight - random observations, (semi-)funny jokes, song lyrics, whatever. I have also noticed that if I don't write them down, they soon vanish from memory.

Poof. Gone.

Vapor trails.

So, for lack of a better idea, I'll deposit them here, brillince and banality in equal measure.

There may be other posters in the future; the glass is clowdy.

Polite comments are always welcome. Spam, not so much.

Please excuse the dust while site construction continues.