The New FireFox

I hear FireFox is thinking about changing their logo...

So THAT's what that fox was up to!

Damn Cell Phones...

I think cell phones are ruining a whole generation of Americans. Can't anyone concentrate on anything these day? Can't you have conversation, or hold a meeting, or watch a damn movie for Christ's sake without someone feeling compelled to answer their damn phone? It's times like those I wish I were Darth Vader...

Relating to an Invisible God

This will be the very first post I've ever written about my spiritual life. I'm gonna be completely honest here, even though I know I'll probably be getting all kinds of "attempted conversion" comments on here.

The thing is, I'm not really a spiritual person. I guess I don't really understand exactly what it means to be spiritual. I grew up in church. My dad's a pastor now. I've read the bible, and still read it occasionally. But what exactly does it mean to be spiritual, or to have a relationship with God?

I used to pray and read the bible often. I used to feel that God talked to me. But then I realized that God wasn't actually talking to me at all. It was my own imagination and wishful thinking.

Then I figured if I, as a reasonably intelligent person, can be fooled into thinking God talks to me, can't just about anyone be fooled into the same?

It strikes me that prayer is pretty much a one-way conversation. How is that a relationship? All the relationships--the real relationships--I've had have been with real people. People I can see, feel, hear, interact with. That's what having a relationship is all about. Interaction.

I'm not doubting God's existence here. I have no doubt that God exists. My doubts have to do with whether we can actually have a real relationship with him the way modern Christians believe.

How do you have a relationship with an invisible God? Of course, I see God in everything around me. Nature itself is a virtuosic display of the power and creativity of an ultra-powerful God. But it's like seeing a painting by Picasso. Of course I can see his work. I can marvel at it. I can appreciate it. It can be all the proof I need that Picasso did (or does) indeed exist. I can even, perhaps, draw conclusions about some of Picasso's personality traits. But does that mean I actually know Picasso?

God is not only invisible, his voice is silent.

Well..."spiritual" people will talk about the still, small voice and brag about how God speaks to them all the time. But usually people who are so sure God speaks to them are in dire need of a visit to some men in white coats.

It's been my experience that people who talk that way are people who just like to sound spiritual and have probably never heard God's voice any clearer than I have.

I know people who fret about "God's will" for their life. And they pray and fast and read the bible searching for the answer as to whether they should buy the Honda Civic or the Toyota Corolla.

I just don't understand it. As my creator, didn't God give me free will to decide things for myself? Didn't he give me a brain and arms and legs so I can think up a plan and execute it on my own?

I marvel about people who "seek God's will." How the hell can you possibly know if God wants you to move to such and such a place or choose such and such a career if he doesn't have a voice to tell you? People often rely on "signs" or "confirmations." I think people just read too much into coincidences.

Or what about "relying on God?" What does that mean? When I hear people talking about "relying on God," I always think of this old joke...

A man sits on the roof of his house as the flood waters rage around him. A man in a boat shows up and yells "Jump in! I'll get you outta here!"

"No, it's okay!" The man on the roof replies. "God told me he was going to save me!" So he refuses to get in the boat and stays on his roof while the waters continue to rise.

Then another boat comes along, but the man once again refuses saying, "God told me he was going to save me!" The waters continue to rise, and the man is at the very peak of his rooftop, the water lapping at his ankles.

Then a helicopter materializes overhead. The rescue guard is lowering down the basket to snag the man from the roof. But again, the man refuses: "God will save me!"

Finally, the waters cover the entire house, and the man is washed away. He drowns in the raging waters and his last thought is a bitter one: "Why didn't God save me?"

So as the man's spirit appears before God, he questions Him: "Lord, why didn't you save me. I though you told me you'd save me from the flood?"

And God answers: "Well, my child. I sent you two boats and a helicopter, what more did you want?"

This is the image I get in my mind every time someone talks about "relying on God." God gave me a brain. And arms and legs. God wants me to use them, I think. If I were the man on the roof, I'd hope for a boat or helicopter, but I'd be tearing up the damn roof trying to build a raft, just in case none came.

The most successful people in the world are people of action. They don't sit around waiting for God to do something. They take action themselves and make something happen. That's me. I'm a "doer," I think.

I don't pray very often. It's not that I don't believe God hears me. It's just that I can't hear what he's saying to me. How is that fulfilling? How does that make me into a better person? How is that a relationship?

There's one thing that strikes me about the bible: the central theme of love. Jesus said the greatest commandment was to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength." The second one is like it: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

When Jesus asked Peter, "Peter, do you love me?" And Peter said yes, then Jesus responded "Then take care of my sheep." Taking care of God's people is love. Loving God is loving others. Loving others is loving God. Maybe that's what having a relationship with God is all about.

Simply loving those that God loves. But loving in a real, practical way that enriches others' lives. Since a real relationship can only happen with real people...and the bible tells us God lives in those who love him, and that "they will know you're my disciples because of your love for one another," then doesn't it stand to reason that maybe a relationship with God is not really about locking yourself in a room and having a one-way conversation every morning, but about simply having relationships with those who profess to love him?

I'm curious, my friends, what your thoughts are on this.

The Stan

My Weekend Adventure Complete with UFOs...

Where shall I start?

Matt & Shelley, my good friends who decided to skip town a year ago, are back for a 10 day visit. So Alba & I went over to Shelley's Auntie Anne's house--which happens to be where my blog photo was taken somewhere around 12:00 am January 1, 2006.

It was a great party. Heidi was also back, fresh from Spain with her Spanish boyfriend "Lolo," and her nice Mediterranean surfer's tan! (Damn, Heidi!)

God, I've missed Matt B. & Shell C. L.A. is just not the same without them. But at least we can pretend it's just like old times for a few days.

I believe a congratulations are in order for Matt B., a new uncle as of Sunday morning...and the rest of the Bingham clan who've just added one to their number.

Sunday, I was back at the Salvation Army. Again, just like old times. I think I'll start going back more often.

Sunday afternoon, Steve, Abel & I headed over to Ruben's posh house over in Yorba Linda to talk brass band business.

Then, it was off to the top of a parking garage in Santa Monica to watch the Perseus meteor shower with Alba, Steve, & Abel until 4:00 am. A bit of a disappointment after that spectacular Leonid shower back in 2001, I believe it was. Damn, I froze my ass off for that one, but it was worth it!

Last night wasn't too bad, though. We didn't see much because we were only maybe a hundred feet above sea level and still in the L.A. basin. You can only get semi-dark skies directly overhead, so you could only see the brighter ones. I didn't feel like driving the two hours to Mt. Pinos.

But we took a look at the Andromeda Galaxy, the Orion Nebula, and the Pleiades Star Cluster through my trusty 10X50 binoculars. Plus, there were a flew flyovers from some extremely fast-moving and completely silent military aircraft.

At least I assume they were military. They looked sort of like planes. They were kind of a brownish-red, vaguely shaped like an airplane, flying low enough to see them without lights and make out a shape, made no noise whatsoever, and were extremely fast. Kind of weird.

Then, while I was off taking a piss in the commercial landscaping next door, Alba, Steve, & Abel reported seeing a UFO that suddenly changed direction at a 90 degree angle twice. Apparently, it was too high to make out a shape--only a dim light. I think it must of been meteors that happened to coincide in such a way as to appear like it was one object, as unlikely as that would be.

But remember Ockham's razor: The simplest and most likely explanation rules. Either we have some pretty freaky technology that's being tested out in the skies above Southern California, we have otherworldly visitors performing the alien equivalent of "the streak" just to freak us out, or it was some natural phenomenon. Natural phenomenon is the simplest and most likely explanation...if not as exciting.

So as I write this, middle of the afternoon on Monday, I'm pumped up on a bottle of Frappucino from 7-11. Still feel tired, though. But when do you ever end an adventure feeling rested and raring to go? If that were the case, it would disqualify as an "adventure!"

The Stan

Drum Corps International...

Sometimes I think I should allow my blog entries to "age" a day or so before I post them. Yesterday's seems just a little bit pathetic in retrospect.

I certainly had no right to feel anything about hearing of Marci getting married and having a baby. But we have no control our gut reactions. We have limited control over our emotions. It's the choices we make, however, that we have complete control over.

I'm reasonably happy with all the decisions that have led me to where I am today. I've lived my life--for the most part--with a clear conscience. And although I have a few lingering regrets, it's not in my nature to dwell on them or allow myself to become embittered by them.

Life's too short. And life does move on.

I'm happy to report that the "knot in my stomach" is no longer bothering me. Maybe it was because I talked to my friend Sal about this yesterday. Sal is a year older than I am and has probably dated more women than I've ever even met in my entire life!

As the dating expert--certainly no relationship expert--he informs me that I committed one of the cardinal sins of dating: never get back in contact with an ex.

Silly me...I didn't know that rule.

But then I can't even claim Marci as an ex. It's a special case. We merely had an unclassifiable long distance..."thing"...that never really developed into a real relationship. My decision to "end" it was the right one, I'm sure. Which makes yesterday's post and my gut reactions all the more silly in retrospect.

Whatever. Time for me to stop being a girl about this thing.

Anyway, in other news...

I went to the DCI (Drum Corps International) Quarterfinals at the Rose Bowl yesterday. I've never seen a drum & bugle corps perform live so I was looking forward to seeing some of the best corps in the world perform. It was a LONG show and at first I was disappointed. But then I noticed that each corps seemed to outperform the one before it. They kept getting better and better so that by the time the last third of the 8 hour show rolled around, each band was spectacular.

The most memorable were the Vanguard from Santa Clarita, CA (just up the 5 freeway from L.A.), Caroline Crown, and of course, the Blue Devils from Concord, CA (which is up in the bay area.) One band--can't remember which--did a great show based on Stravinsky's Firebird. Another did Shostokovich's Scherzo, from one of his symphonies (can't remember which).

The better bands could really produce the sound and fill up the stadium with just 50-60 brass musicians. Amazing. Of course, actually being in tune really helps you out with that. You don't have to work as hard.

All in all a great show.

Then it was off to Hooters under the presumption that we were there for beer and appetizers.

Fortunes and Old Friends

Okay...time to post again. I've written up a "travel log" of my day trip last Sunday, but I'm not going to post that just yet.

I'm in kind of a strange mood today.

Two weeks ago, I opened a fortune cookie that read "you will reconnect with someone from your past." I never take stock in fast-food fortunes, and I usually forget them shortly afterward. But for some reason this one stuck in my mind.

Perhaps it was a real fortune this time, unlike all those other times where I was promised wealth, and success, and far away travels, and prestige, and great honors, etc. I guess they're allowed to get it right every now and then...

Because as it turns out, in the last two weeks, I've reconnected with several people I haven't seen or heard from in years. Partly because of MySpace. And partly just...who knows....Just out the blue, people calling me or emailing me.

For example, just the other day, my long lost cousin Michelle "You talkin' to me" Baker calls me on my cell phone. I was convinced it was my sister and I was surprised to actually have my sister call me. But I was even more surprised when I realized it was Michelle! It's uncanny how much they sound alike.

Michelle lives in San Antonio, has a dog, works in a bank as a fraud detector, owns her own house, has blond hair now instead of brown, and is still single but seriously dating a guy named Dave.

On MySpace, during my year and a half hiatus, I had been contacted by several "long lost" friends and acquaintances, including a good friend of mine who goes all the way back to our dorky high school days.

Andy is married now, to a woman 13 years his senior (though quite attractive), still into martial arts, and...I don't know much else because he hasn't replied to my reply yet. This is the guy who taught me scuba diving.

Then there is the friend from "back home"--I suppose there are several "back homes" for me, but this one happens to be Springfarm, MO. Can I say "Springfarm?" For some reason I feel I can't call it that if I don't live there any more. Like it somehow becomes less "affectionate," and more "derogatory," even though I used to say that all the time, my tone dripping with derogatoriness. (I love making up words!) Perhaps by moving away, I've given up the right to insult Springfield.

Anyway, I get this email out of the blue from a friend I haven't heard from in years, who happens to be the mother of a girl I used to be crazy about. Almost literally crazy. And after talking to her over the phone I find out that this girl I used to be crazy about is married and about to have a little girl.

I try very hard to take the news nonchalantly. "Really? Good for her." But at the same time, there's this knot in my stomach and I feel...Jealous?...Broken hearted?...Betrayed?...I don't know. I have no idea what I'm feeling, I've just got this knot in my stomach. (Maybe it was just gas?)

Anyway, life moves on.

Then yesterday, I found out about this cool feature on MySpace that will read your Gmail address book to search for friends who have a MySpace page registered. There was a whole slew of names, including Rita--the mother of the girl I was crazy about--who had just emailed me last week.

So I check out her MySpace page, and right there in her top eight is Mrs. Sherman, a.k.a. "The girl I used to be crazy about." Click Mrs. Sherman, check out her photos...knot comes back. Damn.

I thought I got rid of that knot over three frickin' years ago. Anyway, I didn't want to be a cyber stalker, so I figured I should at least send her quick note to congratulate her on her wedding and upcoming child.

So I go home, sit down for dinner with Alba. Bam--phone rings. Mrs. Sherman. Awkward moment.

Not sure what to say...Alba's sitting right there...I'm wondering how she got my number, though I suppose it's no great secret...more awkwardness--I can't even remember what I said, but it was a short conversation.

But that damned knot is right there! It was there all last night. This morning. And as I write this post this very moment.

But...life moves on.

The Stan

My MySpace Space

Well, I've been locked out of my MySpace account for ages. Like a year and a half.

And true to my usual form, I've just lately gotten around to contacting MySpace about getting back in. Here's what happened...

My good friends Matt & Shelley decided to create a "fake" MySpace account in my name and pretend to be me for a few weeks. Wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't made me say some really gay and dumb things, then add a whole bunch of people I knew as friends.

Anyway, so M&S signed me up with a fake email address (thestan@yahoo.com), which I've never owned, but somebody does. I imagine it would have been theoretically possible for this person to assume my identity, but fortunately it never happened.

Then they made up a password which I've long since forgotten. This was like three years ago. And my computer had my login saved in its memory. But...like computers so often do...my computer bit the dust. Choked on it. Perhaps shorted itself out on it.

Whatever happened, that was the end of my MySpace days for about a year and a half.

Until today.

The other day, I contacted MySpace about getting access to my account. But to be honest, I wasn't all that hopeful. No email address. No password. No entre.

But they told me that if I took a photo of myself holding up a sign with my MySpace friend ID, they would let me in.

So I go over to Abel's house to have him take my photo. And it just so happens that Sal and Steve happen to be hanging around, too. (Possibly invited by Abel for the special occasion.) They were quite amused by my plight, and you can see a snapshot of their antics on my MySpace photo album. (Yes, MySpace let me back in):

www.myspace.com/jaarons

I take it you know how to get to the photo section. Everybody and their dog and their dog's chew toy is on MySpace these days.

So I suppose it's about time I get back on, myself. I'm afraid I have a few long-neglected MySpace friends waiting for me...