Life at 3 miles an Hour

“You only get one chance to make a first impression”. At least that’s what they say…. “They” being the invisible force of opinion that rules the world. That’s a bit of pressure. I mean, if you don’t get it right the first time, then who really knows if you’ll be able to get it at all? One of the things that fascinates me about the north west is the reality that many here don’t seem to be hung up on what their first impression might be or whether or not it influences others for bad or good. Our contributions to the fashion world are, after all, fleece, socks and sandals, fleece, Doc Martins, fleece and vests made of fleece. It’s not really much of anything to boast about. I’m convinced that this area of the country has the least amount of mirrors per capita, and most of those that do exist are probably part of an independent art exhibit. There is not nearly the pressure here that I’ve experienced in other areas of the country. Just one early morning visit to my beachfront hang...

Yesterday I had a plan. Fortunately some friends had a better plan. I knew it was a better plan because I felt it deep down, at heart level. It wasn’t even my plan, it was theirs, but it resonated in my being. I was envious of the simplicity of what they were about to experience. Usually when someone tells me about their planned activity, even if it’s a really good one, I can only manage a polite “Oh that’s nice”, kind of response. This was different. Yesterday, my first reaction was an envious “I wish we could do that today”. It hung precariously close to whining. The plan wasn’t complex, in fact its simplicity was what was attracting me. I could have easily done it, except for one small complication. I had my own plan for the day. Those of you who know me, know how much of a dilemma that could be for me. It was worse though. Not only did I have a plan, I had a timeline that had to go with the plan. Let me explain. I am in the midst of remodeling a guest room. Time is ...

I’ve spent enough time here in the northwest, that I’m sure I’m overdue to write something about umbrellas. It might be considered a bit odd that, with the winter rains gone and my grass burning up, I’d pick now for the topic, but many things I do seem a bit odd to many people so why disappoint now. Actually, for your information, this happens to be a very appropriate time. This week I have the privilege of teaching, in my community o’ faith, the part of God’s creation story dealing with the introduction of Adam and Eve. Just a few weeks ago I was able to be back in New York performing a wedding for a very special couple, and next month, my wife and I will officially become empty nest parents. In case you haven’t caught on yet, the theme of the month for me is relationships. That’s where umbrella’s come in. I found an umbrella the other day as I was rearranging our living room. It brought back images to me of walking in the rain with my wife. Lots of times when we walk in the r...

I’m getting to witness a profound transaction taking place this morning. From my seat this morning, a big stupid hulking hybrid bus is filling the background. That should be criminal on a morning like this. Anyway, it’s causing my focus to shift in the direction of two golden retrievers. They had just been hitched up outside while their human marches inside for a venti iced something. They really are beautiful dogs, but what is catching my attention is their stance as they wait for their human. They are almost rigid at attention, pointing longingly towards the door. I’ve noticed that they don’t alter their gaze a bit when any of the rest of the caffeine clique wander back outside. They don’t even flinch when slippers and boxers guy wanders past. This is a bit unusual because many of their contemporaries, when left in similar situations, will give their attention to just about anyone or anything that walks by. They attempt to bribe you with their eyes, pleading with any sympath...