Color me caffeinated

As of last week I am offically a Starbucks Barista … again … for the the second time. Little known fact: I have worked for and quit from Starbucks twice in two different cities before my most recent rehire here in beautiful Dallas. A sophomore at the University of Minnesota and fresh into my first apartment, I “worked” one shift for 3 hours in late September of 2000. No sooner was I handed my green apron then I returned it - a little disappointed at my lack of endurance. But way more sleepy than disappointed. Turns out a five o’clock AM start time and a 12:30 PM History of Journalism class don’t mix very well. I opted for the education. Woops.

I might’ve have forgotten about the incident had I not recieved a W2 the following January for $23 I didn’t received. The manager smirked when I asked if she still had my check. I eventually recieved payment after a rather lengthy conversation with the corporate office.

Jump ahead 4 years. New to Austin, TX, with a wife, a baby, and pretty much no plan, I needed a fast job. Michele at the Brodie Oaks store was gracious enough to hire me, train me, and proceed to slave drive me on the espresso bar. I spent nine months (Novmber to August) at that store. Rich, Matt, and (mainly) Amhir Hidalgo made my time there thoroughly enjoyable. Then I got a real job.

Jump to Dallas. I’m working as a graphic designer for a nonprofit and loving it. We’ve incurred some unexpected medical bills and there’s a Starbucks across the street. The bills were an excellent excuse to give up on quitting coffee. I signed up once again in order to “catch up financially.” Free coffee aside.

I thought it was kind of cool until the other day when an acquaintence suggested I “knew what she meant” about having to deal with people because I “work in fast food.” I don’t offend easily - and I’m kind of ashamed that I was. But I was. Fast food emplyee? Is this the general public’s perception of me? Should I care? Is it wrong to quietly hate this woman?

Whatever. To hell with the public perception. That’s where it’s headed on most things anyway. I like making drinks. I enjoy serving coffee. And I love walking to and from work. Maybe I need to be put in my place here - if so, please post. But I think the position of a barista, though it’s no apprenticeship to Martha Stewart, is a fairly respectable job.

Google Videos are Taking Over

A couple weeks ago, Kevin was praising google for google print - a search engine allowing us to search through all of the world’s books. Today, I’m here to tell you about something much more benefical to mankind. Google Video searches the web for any video content containing your search criterion. It’s AMAZING. It’s also a fantastic waste of time. Ever since the (ironic) commercialisation of adcritic.com - there has been a browser-window shaped hole in my heart. Friends, that void has been filled! Pete and I have been sharing our favorites back and forth via email for a couple days. I invite you to post yours in the comments section.

Here are just a few clips to whet your appetite: The Russian Climber (pictured above), BMW M5 vs. Audi RS4, Soccer Skills, Ghost Car, and Jin vs. Verse.

Jesus and the Elves

Scott Wilder read the following on the radio today. I heard it on my way home from work. A discussuion ensued thereafter about the secularization of Christmas - namely, the replacement of the word “christmas” with the word “holiday.” Turns out a lot of right wing Texans are pretty pissed about it. I ended up calling in and offering another take. Anyway - I have no idea who wrote this. If anyone knows, fill me in so I can properly site the source John Leo wrote this for U.S. News and World Report.  I (originally) found it on Wilder’s site.

Jesus and the Elves

And Joseph went up from Galilee to Bethlehem with Mary, his espoused wife, who was great with child. And she brought forth a son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn. And the angel of the Lord spoke to the shepherds and said, “I bring you tidings of great joy. Unto you is born a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”

“There’s a problem with the angel,” said a Pharisee who happened to be strolling by. As he explained to Joseph, angels are widely regarded as religious symbols, and the stable was on public property where such symbols were not allowed to land or even hover.

“And I have to tell you, this whole thing looks to me very much like a Nativity scene,” he said sadly. “That’s a no-no, too.”

Joseph had a bright idea. “What if I put a couple of reindeer over there near the ox and ass?” he said, eager to avoid sectarian strife.

“That would definitely help,” said the Pharisee, who knew as well as anyone that whenever a savior appeared, judges usually liked to be on the safe side and surround it with deer or woodland creatures of some sort. “Just to clinch it, throw in a candy cane and a couple of elves and snowmen, too,” he said. “No court can resist that.”

Mary asked, “What does my son’s birth have to do with snowmen?”

“Snowpersons,” cried a young woman, changing the subject before it veered dangerously toward religion.

Off to the side of the crowd, a Philistine was painting the Nativity scene. Mary complained that she and Joseph looked too tattered and worn in the picture. “Artistic license,” he said. “I’ve got to show the plight of the haggard homeless in a greedy, uncaring society in winter,” he quipped.

“We’re not haggard or homeless. The inn was just full,” said Mary.

“Whatever,” said the painter.

Two women began to argue fiercely. One said she objected to Jesus’ birth “because it privileged motherhood.” The other scoffed at virgin births, but said that if they encouraged more attention to diversity in family forms and the rights of single mothers, well, then, she was all for them.

“I’m not a single mother,” Mary started to say, but she was cut off by a third woman who insisted that swaddling clothes are a form of child abuse, since they restrict the natural movement of babies. With the arrival of 10 child advocates, all trained to spot infant abuse and manger rash, Mary and Joseph were pushed to the edge of the crowd, where arguments were breaking out over how many reindeer (or what mix of reindeer and seasonal sprites) had to be installed to compensate for the infant’s unfortunate religious character. An older man bustled up, bowling over two merchants, who had been busy debating whether an elf is the same as a fairy and whether the elf/fairy should be shaking hands with Jesus in the crib or merely standing to the side, jumping around like a sports mascot.

“I’d hold off on the reindeer,” the man said, explaining that the use of asses and oxen as picturesque backdrops for Nativity scenes carries the subliminal message of human dominance. He passed out two leaflets, one denouncing manger births as invasions of animal space, the other arguing that stables are “penned environments” where animals are incarcerated against their will. He had no opinion about elves or candy canes.

Signs declaring “Free the Bethlehem 2″ began to appear, referring to the obviously exploited ass and ox. Someone said the halo on Jesus’ head was elitist.

Mary was exasperated. “And what about you, old mother?” she said sharply to an elderly woman. “Are you here to attack the shepherds as prison guards for excluded species, maybe to complain that singing in Latin identifies us with our Roman oppressors, or just to say that I should have skipped patriarchal religiosity and joined some dumb new-age goddess religion?”

“None of the above,” said the woman, “I just wanted to tell you that the Magi are here.” Sure enough, the three wise men rode up.

The crowd gasped, “They’re all male!” And “Not very multicultural!” “Balthasar here is black,” said one of the Magi. “Yes, but how many of you are gay or disabled?” someone shouted. A committee was quickly formed to find an impoverished lesbian wise-person among the halt and lame of Bethlehem.

A calm voice said, “Be of good cheer, Mary, you have done well and your son will change the world.” At last, a sane person, Mary thought. She turned to see a radiant and confident female face. The woman spoke again: “There is one thing, though. Religious holidays are important, but can’t we learn to celebrate them in ways that unite, not divide? For instance, instead of all this business about ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo,’ why not just ‘Season’s Greetings’?”

Mary said, “You mean my son has entered human history to deliver the message, ‘Hello, it’s winter’?”

“That’s harsh, Mary,” said the woman. “Remember, your son could make it big in midwinter festivals, if he doesn’t push the religion thing too far. Centuries from now, in nations yet unborn, people will give each other pricey gifts and have big office parties on his birthday. That’s not chopped liver.”

“Let me get back to you,” Mary said.

Normally, I hate conservative talk radio. But Wilder’s a pretty fair host. His reading of this was hilarious. On further reflection however, I had to ask mysef, “Should I expect anything else from a pagan population?” As a national holiday, christmas has become many things to many people that it shouldn’t be. What’s the Christ-like response to all of this?

Well - what do you guys think? I’ll offer my opinion after I have the opportunity to read everyone else’s and discern what the most unique thing would be to say. That’s the priveledge of the facilitator.

Thanksgiving, Cash, and April

I’m back from four great days off. Thanksgiving weekend was seasoned with rest, reflection, romance, and old friends. Kristin, Jaimes and I spent all of Thursday at the Kavans. The downside was watching tv all day. I don’t own one, so if I’m around one I’m pretty much glued to it - no matter what’s on. I watched a James Bondathon, a Tom Hanksathon, and half of a dog show. Friday night, Kristin and I celebrated the 4th anniversary of our first date. Jaimes spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s. We walked around the Northpark Mall. Had dinner at La Madeline (which, in this case, was really a glorified food court). After the mall we went to see Walk The Line. As excited as I was to see this film, and as eager as I was to learn alittle more about Johnny Cash, I was afraid of two things happening. In light of his recent death and books like The Man Comes Around (which I haven’t read), I feared an over-spirtiualization of his legacy. My second (and deeper) fear was that, in an attepmt to combat the recent focus on the “spiritual” Cash, his relationship with God would be ignored altogether. The film put my fears to rest. I may review it in coming weeks, but for now I’d like to let it soak in some more. At any rate - I definitely recommend it.

Saturday, we drove 3 hours east to Linden, TX. I was shooting my friend Trey’s wedding. It was great to see some old friends like Kevin and Jonathan. JD rode with us there and back and we had some great conversation. Sunday we went to church in the morning. It was good to be there since we missed last week. We spent the rest of the day resting (e.g. shamelessly perusing the sample stands at Sams Club).

While I don’t enjoy watching hours of television (it wipes me out for some reason), I can watch movies back to back for days on end. Kristin and I watched Pieces of April after Thanksgiving dinner for the second year in a row. This is Peter Hedges directorial debut. As a screenwriter, he’s responsible for About A Boy and What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. Now, I generally can’t stand Katie Holmes and she doesn’t pull off the black sheep runaway child role very well. But the film’s gritty, hand held camera approach and EXCELLENT supporting cast (Oliver Platt, Patricia Clarkson, Derek Luke) more than compensate for her “performancey” performance.

More importantly - the story is rich with themes of brokeness, forgiveness, mortality, and the urgency of life. I was priveldged to see this film prescreened two years ago in Minneapolis. Hedges conducted a Q&A after the screening (he’s endearingly down-to-earth … and no, Katie Holmes wasn’t there). He said we wanted to make a movie about a bunch of unlikely acquaintances eating a holiday meal together. It was difficult imagining an interesting scenario that would bring them all together. The death of Hedges mother helped him gain some ground here. I won’t say more on that. I WILL say this movie wraps up with one of the best endings I’ve ever encountered. It’s truly breathtaking.