The Morning Show

My first task of the day was to visit the set of the KFSM Morning Show. Saturday is Community Outreach Day and we are publicizing the event.

I enjoy visiting television studios because they deconstruct the reality of television. That is necessary treatment for one such as myself born under the sign of the test pattern. As the Talking Heads sing, "I was born in a house with the television always on." Indeed, in a time when reality television is considered more than reality it is good to go behind the scenes and remember that TV is magnificently unreal.

I notice all of the subtle imperfections that are not visible on the broadcast - the green screen, the rigging in the rafters, the window facade, the placement of the newsdesk and the weather center ("Hey they aren't even looking at each other when they engage in witty banter!") I delight in the backstage view.

I enjoyed my visit to KFSM. They really did a wonderful job helping us to get the word out about Community Outreach Day. I think that Bobbie Miller, Brad Flickinger, their producers and crew are top-notch. I have a certain nostalgic nook in my heart for KFSM. I remember watching the news, weather, and the Santa Show on this old station. I always wanted to be on the Santa Show. That never worked out, but at least I made it on the Morning Show and I got a coffee mug to boot.

The Good Old Days of Criminal Adventure Part 2

Now that I have let the irony and sarcasm of my previous post sit on the site for a while, I thought I would follow up with a less satirical voice. I did intend to make a point with my previous post, so here is the meaning of the parable. . .

First, I want to be clear that I am not slamming Sen. Clinton or any of the other senators that are calling for an investigation. I think it is important for people in positions of leadership to raise questions that are in the interest of our children.

Second, I can accept Rockstar Games' claim that the sexual content in the game is the result of unauthorized modifications and isn't part of their original game design.

Which brings me to my main point, the original content of the game is enough to warrant some sort of protest from the public, especially as these games are often popular among children. (I know they are not the intended audience, but that's who usually winds up buying them and playing them.) According to the official site for Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, the premise of the game is as follows:

Five years ago Carl Johnson escaped from the pressures of life in Los Santos, San Andreas... a city tearing itself apart with gang trouble, drugs and corruption. Where filmstars and millionaires do their best to avoid the dealers and gangbangers.
Now, it's the early 90s. Carl's got to go home. His mother has been murdered, his family has fallen apart and his childhood friends are all heading towards disaster.
On his return to the neighborhood, a couple of corrupt cops frame him for homicide. CJ is forced on a journey that takes him across the entire state of San Andreas, to save his family and to take control of the streets.

For those of you hoping that the game will satisfy your nostalgic urge to revist the early 90's beware. The game is rated M for mature. (Breaking News: Not anymore!) Trying to download a clip from the game at the official website prompts a warning that asks for the age of the viewer. At least the producers of the game recognize that children shouldn't be watching the trailer for the game. (Why they don't assume a 13-year-old would lie about his age escapes me). After watching the trailer I see why they issue a warning. The soundtrack contains profanity, the sreenshots show drug deals in action, shoot-outs, and gangsters executing a drive-by shooting from a motorbike. And that's just the original content.

I wish the Senators well in their efforts to raise public awareness. I hope that Rockstar Games will do even more to convince the public that their game is really for adults and not just limited to being purchased by adults. All of this highlights the fact that responsibility ultimately devolves to people like me - that is, parents and guardians. Pay attention to your children. Help them make choices. Get involved and do not rely solely on the ESRB rating system. Step up and be the parent. And let's all help each other along the way.

[Addendum: I wrote this as part of the previous post but decided to hold off on publishing it. For an explanation as to why, go back and read the third comment on the previous post. It is my reply to Anonymous.]

[Addendum 2: As I write this, it would seem that some good has come from the public debate. Grand Theft Auto will now be rated Adults Only. Also, the company that manufactures the game admits that they are actually responsible for the pornographic content. And to think I was willing to accept that it was the work of drive-by "modders." Why did you lie to me Rockstar Games? Why?!]

The Good Old Days of Criminal Adventure

This news just out from Reuters: "U.S. Sen. Hillary Clinton pressed on July 13, 2005 for a government investigation into how simulated sex cropped up in a modified version of the blockbuster criminal adventure video game 'Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.'"

What is the world coming to when our children cannot play their criminal adventure video games without pornographic content? I remember when boosting a sweet ride and capping pigs with a Mac 10 was more wholesome. Now someone has gone and made something nasty of what used to be nothing but old fashioned fun with one's homies. You kids should really keep your digitized clothes on when you are clocking 120 m.p.h. on the simulated streets of San Andreas in a stolen Mercedes. What's the world coming to these days!

Haste Ye Back

Eighteen years ago I made a momentous trip to Scotland. The before, during, and after phases of this trip have shaped my identity and my faith. The details of these phases would take more room than I have in this single post. These are, as I have said before, stories for another time.

In Scotland they have an expression similar to the Arko-Texan phrase "Ya'll come back now." They say "Haste ye back!" I did haste back in 1991 with my new bride, Karen. Now Scotland, and especially the families of the East Kilbride Church of Christ, have a special place in our hearts.

Yesterday, one of my friends and brothers from East Kilbride, Kerr Thomson, arrived at our house. He is visiting America with his new bride, Susan. The visit with Kerr and Susan rekindled memories of significant moments in my life. We shared stories of the past and news of the moment. I am saddened to hear that the last few months have not been pleasant for the church in East Kilbride. I ask you to pray for these people. They are my family on so many levels. It is always a tragedy when the body of Christ is torn and wounded by conflict. I hurt for them because they are the church and the pain is doubled because I know most of them very well.

If the Lord wills, I want to haste back to Scotland. I would love to be there on June 24, 2014 for the 700th anniversary of Bannockburn. The Battle of Bannockburn is the only conflict in Scotland I care to commemorate. My fondest hope is that when I do haste back I will find the bride of Christ in East Kilbride happy, healthy, and new.

Look At Me

The movie theatres need to consider a better method for determining what previews are shown with which films. I took my six-year-old son to see the Fantastic Four today and just before the film begins we are blasted with a trailer for The Transporter 2. Sure, I know that Fantastic Four is rated PG-13, but there's something different about the comic-book style fighting of an orange rocky giant throwing an automobile at an electricity-wielding metal-hided villian compared to the violence depicted on the trailer for Transporter 2. Call me inconsistent, but when I made the decision to allow my son to watch the Fantastic Four I did not bargain that he would have to sit through a scene of a woman dressed like a Victoria's Secret model firing semi-automatic machine guns in an emergency room. When I checked the family reviews for Fantastic Four there were no warnings about watching the Transporter himself use super-quick martial arts moves to break the necks of assorted hoodlums.

So, I am faced with a crisis and I have little time to act. I covered my son's eyes during the intense moments in Revenge of the Sith but my simple method of censorship didn't seem to work, so this time I followed my instinct and said to my son, "Look at me! Keep your eyes on me." He did. He kept his eyes on me the whole time and I kept my eyes on him until the trailer was over.

The symbolism of my parental instruction has stuck with me all afternoon. "Keep your eyes on me, son." Instead of just distracting him from what he shouldn't see, I suppose I need to give him something worthwhile to watch. Not on TV or the movie screen, but in my life of course. Isn't that what being a father is all about?

Putting the Hurt on Evil

During my research for the sermon on Mark 3, I discovered this image from the Getty Museum. It comes from the page of a 13th century manuscript. The scene is obviously inspired by Revelation as it depicts unclean spirits issuing from the mouths of the dragon, the beast, and the false prophet.

What is Christ doing in the illustration? It has been a few years since I studied art history. I had almost enough hours in art history to minor in the subject. I know that certain poses and gestures are artistic conventions that are visual shorthand for theological concepts. For example, when Jesus is shown in some paintings holding up two fingers he isn't giving the sign for peace; rather he is flashing the sign that says that he is one with the Father.

Well and good, but what is this odd gesture above? If any of you out there know perhaps you might illumine me. In the meanwhile I will share my theory with you: I think Jesus is taking up his "wax on" kung fu stance and he is about to put some ginormous theological hurt on evil. Hey I like that! You will have to have some serious art history credentials to convince me I am wrong.

Tablets of Stone, Tablets of the Heart

"I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh." - Ezekiel 11:19

On Monday the Supreme Court made its wonderfully circumstantial and ambiguous ruling on the display of the Ten Commandments. What I am able to decipher from the arcane documents with their unusually wide margins is that the court ruled the display of the Ten Commandments is not an endorsement of religion if the display is historical. Yet, if the display is a statement of faith then state religion is being endorsed. It will be interesting to see how this is interpreted in the future as opponents argue "historical" versus "not historical." Much will likely depend on how large a chunk of granite the Ten Commandments have been carved into.

I am less interested in the display of the Ten Commandments and more interested in its application. Regardless of whether they made proper notation and citation, the Supreme Court applied the Ten Commandments during this session. In the case of MGM vs. Grokster, (I know, it sounds like a Godzilla movie) the court said that the providers of software that would infringe copyrights of copyrighted material were still responsible for the infringement. In other words, "thou shalt not steal." How many other supreme court decisions can be reduced to one of the Ten Commandments? How many decisions assume the simple truth and logic of the Ten Commandments? Whether it is considered historical or religious, the spirit of the Commandments is in use.

On the same day in another court, Dennis Rader confessed to ten counts of first degree murder. Rader is better known as the BTK Killer. Rader regards the victims of his crimes as projects. He bound, tortured, and killed them to fulfill his sexual urges. Rader broke nearly all the Ten Commandments, yet one cannot say that Rader was unfamiliar with the commandments. At one time in his life Rader was president of his church council. He was a boy scout leader. He was a code enforcement officer, so he knows something about rules that are written in stone. Certainly Rader must have been exposed to a display of the Ten Commandments at some point. It is regrettable for all of us, especially his victims and their families, that the commandments were never written on his heart.

"You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts." - 2 Cor. 3:3

Hearing the Message in the Song

Who says that children don't pay attention in worship? On the Sunday before last we were worshipping with Karen's parents at their home congregation. Our youngest son was a bit more fidgetty than usual. He is sort of traditional and prefers a church house with pews rather than new-fangled chairs. I felt bad for the worship leader and the preacher because all their hard work was lost on my six-year-old son. He is just too set in his ways. Yet I was amazed when he perked up during one song. The message reached him and he responded with all his heart. The song was the old spiritual "Get Right Church" and as we sang the line "Get right church and let's go home" my son turns to his mother and says "Yes, let's go home!"

The Battle of Bannockburn

It was 691 years ago from today that nearly 5,000 Scots from all walks of life and all social classes were camped out on a hill near a river in central Scotland. Advancing on their position was the English military numbering over 20,000. Included in their force were longbow archers and armored cavalry knights. Most of the Scots were fortunate to have a garden tool for a weapon. What should have been a massacre and simple victory for the English on the field of Bannockburn became the decisive moment in Scotland's battle for independence in the 14th century.

The Battle of Bannockburn and the triumph of the Scots over a force that outnumbered them four to one reminds me of the significance of unity. Scotland had allowed the English to subdue them because they were at odds with one another. They were a house divided and they could not stand. William Wallace and King Robert the Bruce united the Scots, which enabled them to win a battle that by all rights they should have lost.

Six years after the victory at Bannockburn, the Scots declared their independence in a letter to the Pope known as the Declaration of Arbroath. They affirmed their unity and the purpose of their fight in the most famous line from the declaration: It is in truth not for glory, nor riches, nor honours that we are fighting, but for freedom - for that alone, which no honest man gives up but with life itself.

Homeward Bound

For many years now I have clutched on to a belief that a place really feels like home only when you leave it for a time and return to it. I do not fully understand this sensation. My guess is that when "home" becomes your destination you feel "at home" when you arrive. After all the effort to vacate our house so that we could go on vacation, we finally reversed our energy by packing up, loading the van, driving for hours and passing slow-moving traffic just to get home.

I am sure there is some rich, theological significance to this effort to feel at home. Yet, I am tired and just happy to be home right now. I leave you with the following scripture and ask, as I often do, what do you think?

"For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come." - Hebrews 13:14.

Pod Racing on Lake Hamilton

Our family is enjoying vacation this week. Yesterday, we went out to Lake Hamilton to cruise around on a party barge. I still wince when I think about calling this pontoon boat a party barge. A party barge connotes scantily clad co-eds, drunken rednecks, and the inevitable visit from the lake patrol to turn down the music. It makes me grin when I think that my wonderfully mild-mannered in-laws own a party barge.

Of course with the addition of my family and my sister's family, which means bringing aboard a quintet of children under the age of eleven, the party atmosphere manifests. It is not the "party barge" party atmosphere, rather a "Chuck E. Cheese on the lake" sort of party. Again, the nomenclature "party barge" does not fit and I think it better to rename the vessel a play barge or a fun barge. Perhaps I should just settle for calling it a boat.

The children have no problem naming the grand ship. In fact they recreate it in their imaginations many times over. I noticed this when we were towing the giant racing-striped intertube behind us. My oldest son was the first to ride and I was impressed by how excited he was. Having been towed around in an intertube myself I am mystified by the attraction. You bounce around getting water splashed in your face and breathe in gas fumes. Why is this fun? Maintaining a parental watch on my son as he bobbed around on the waves at 12 m.p.h., I noticed that he was moving his hands back and forth on the intertube handles as if he were driving a tank. Every so often he would glance behind him. Putting it all together, I realized that he was podracing. Podracing is the sport featured on Star Wars: Episode I. The podracers are driven by funny aliens and a podracer looks like . . . well it looks a little intertube being towed by a huge pontoon boat.

I sat in the back of the party barge and watched as my son won the podrace on Lake Hamilton. I was amazed to think that a whole world was being imagined out there in that inflatable pod skimming across the water. I remembered the adventures that I created in my own youthful mind when I would swing off a rope swing at the river or paddle across the pond in a leaky boat. These material forms became whatever I wanted them to be. I could name them as I chose. Today when we head out to the lake once again, I will pass up the ride on the party barge. I have an invitation to go cruising on Gasgano's Super-Fueled Podracer.

Speaking of Faith

During the past decade, there has been an explosion of films and television programs containing religious and spiritual themes. Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ was only the tip of the iceberg. As new generations of Americans work out their spiritual and religious questions, they are increasingly turning to fantasy.

These are the opening words of an issue of Krista Tippett's radio program "Speaking of Faith." I recommend the program to anyone who enjoys reflecting on matters of spirituality and faith. Obviously some topics will be more appealing than others. I receive the broadcast from the Internet. The advantage with the streaming audio broadcast is the additional information found on the website. You can investigate it for yourself at this here.

The show I mentioned above reminds me why I started the Magic Lantern Show. The imagination is a neglected dimension of faith and spirituality in Western culture. We tend to regard it as untrue. Hence, our inability to understand Revelation. Every printing of the Bible should come with a heading before Revelation emblazened with the legend "WARNING: Keep Out of Reach of Engineers." (My apologies to those of you who are engineers. Many of my best friends are engineers.)

Forgive the pitiful humor, but we have favored reason to the point that our ability to discern truth through imagination has atrophied. Reason certainly is important, and I regret that its neglect may soon be upon us, but our spiritual senses require both if we are to be whole. These two capactities of discernment are no more exclusive of one another than sight is exclusive of hearing. So let us hone both our intellect and our imagination. In the peaceable kingdom that is to come artists, philosophers, scientists, and engineers shall dwell together in harmony.

So, let's all go to movies - but take your faith with you.

Prayer Lab

One of my favorite activities in Peak of the Week is the Prayer Lab. The name Prayer Lab was inspired by college lab classes. Think about college classes: during the week one sits in science classes taking notes and listening to lectures, but at least once a week there is a chance to put all the theory to work in a lab. So in Prayer Lab we put all of our faith and belief to work in a set of "prayer projects."

It is inspiring to see the people in Peak get up and move into small prayer groups or gather around the tables to write cards of encouragement to those on our prayer list. To see the church busy with the work of prayer reminds me of Oswald Chambers' comment that "Prayer does not fit us for the greater work; prayer is the greater work."

I was encouraged to be a part of that greater work tonight; not as the leader, facilitator, organizer, or sponsor, but simply as a co-worker. I gathered in a circle of eight men. I noticed how diverse we were but also what we had in common. I sensed the activity all around me. This is the greater work. How wonderful that God listens and his spirit envelops us as we pray together. I look forward to the outcome of our experiments in our prayer lab.

"For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them." - Matt. 18:20

Prometheus

Our new house is rather old. Instead of a new fangled breaker box, we have a quaint and old-fashioned fuse box. We bought a set of three-pronged adapters for those appliances that have a ground plug, because all of our outlets only have two slots.

None of this helps with our clothes dryer however. It demands the rare gargantuan breed of outlet known as the 220 outlet. For those of you haven't watched a home improvement channel lately, the 220 outlet is the big one that seems to be the boss of all the little outlets. It is the outlet chieftain of the electrical tribe. It is the 110 outlet on steroids. Our house did not have the Schwarzenegger of outlets - until today!

Like a good hunter-gatherer I went on a quest for fire for my family. I would bring them the strange energy so that we may enjoy the blessings of warm fluffy towels. With the help of my reliable wise man (my father-in-law), I braved the perils of jagged steel, high temperatures, and voltage to bring my family fire! Behold what I have wrought! Now dear family I give you the gift of 220 voltage - or maybe it is 240, I really don't understand.

Today I am Prometheus. Pray I do not become too prideful because I don't want to end up chained to a rock with birds pecking on my liver.

Writing Again

I am ready to write again. The last week and a half has been a very moving experience for my family. We live in the same city but we have a new house. The experience of moving has been tiring, but it has been a profound experience of Christian community. We have met God's people at every stage of our move. Everyone has been gracious, generous, and considerate.

One of the features of our new house is an Internet connection as well as the convenience of a wireless connection. So, I am no longer limited to posting at the office or Sweet Bay Coffee Co. Now I can post during the wee hours of the night as I wait for a rather blustery storm to move through town.

There's more to come. Stay in touch and keep reading.

Mentors, Friends, and Brothers

Dr. Fred Craddock is minister of Cherry Log Christian Church in Cherry Log Georgia. He is also professor of Preaching and New Testament in the Candler School of Theology at Emory University. His books on preaching are the first books on preaching I can remember reading. I have listened to his recorded sermons on various occasions. The messages of those sermons still live within me. I often follow Dr. Craddock's instruction to preachers because it is so plain and sensible. I agree entirely with one comment declaring that Dr. Craddock "speaks the folk idiom with prophetic authenticity."

Dr. Craddock was speaking at the Rochester College Sermon Seminar this week. It was the third time that I attended the Sermon Seminar. The director of the seminar is David Fleer, professor at Rochester College. He too has taught me to preach. David understands that such a seminar should not be limited to technical discussions of biblical texts or communication technique. We are handling the word of God, so worship and fellowship are essential. David is gifted with the ability to encourage community. When the assignments are passed out in the Great Beyond, I hope that David will be given the role of greeter at the gates or emcee at the banquet. His welcome and introduction of speakers is as significant as the key lectures.

I could tell that David was also excited that Fred Craddock was speaking this year. Of course, David already knows Dr. Craddock and has heard him speak in person. For me, this was the first time to meet in person the man that nearly all of us there consider a mentor in preaching. I agree with David that it was a blessing to simply have Fred Craddock talk to us.

The entire seminar experience was a blessing. As always, it is a chance to meet up with my comrades in preaching. Seven of us were staying at the Concorde Inn in Rochester Hills. I have been to preaching and ministry gatherings in the past that seem to be more about professional placement and advancement. This has never been the case for my colleagues and me at the Sermon Seminar. When we speak of our churches and ministry it is as if old friends are talking about the news. Mostly we talk about our families, sports, politics, books we have read, movies we have seen, and we tell jokes. Some may say that this mundane talk is idleness unworthy of a ministry seminar. I strongly disagree. I say it represents the sort of authenticity that emerges from spiritual concord. I say it is the sort truthful community and encouragement we need for evangelism and the long journey.

The seminar closed with worship and David Fleer's wonderful summary and blessing. I wait expectantly for next year. The good fellowship was not over yet, however. My friend, John Knox, and I had the honor of driving Fred Craddock to the airport. Now I had the added blessing to spend downtime with a very special mentor who had been for me only a disembodied voice and the author of a few books. Can you imagine what we talked about on the hour drive to Detroit? We talked about our families, sports, books we have read, and of course we told jokes. And yes, Fred's jokes were the best.

Epilogue

There were no less than seven of my cohort of preachers and professors on the flight to DFW. Because of delays at DFW I spent even more time with my friends. I even had the chance to talk about matters with another mentor, Dr. Charles Siburt. He too taught me to minister and preach. I said farewell to these friends and boarded a flight ready to depart at 6:45 p.m. It was an earlier flight that had been delayed and I would have arrived home earlier than originally scheduled. Unfortunately, all standby passengers were forced to get off the plane because the maintenance crew had overfueled the aircraft and now it was too heavy to take additional passengers.

I disembarked the plane aware that my friends from Abilene had already departed. I found a seat in the airport to wait out the next two hours. Usually I don't mind the loneliness in the midst of a crowd that comes with air travel. This time, however, my cell phone and laptop were both without power as I had neglected to charge them. I began to read a rather uninspiring magazine article when I saw Larry Roper walk in front of me. I am thankful for the blessed surprise of meeting one of my brothers from the West-Ark congregation. It was a nice transition back to Fort Smith. Larry and I spent the next three hours talking about our families, the books we have read, and the movies we have seen. Due to the delays we even took the same flight. Along the way I anticipated the spiritual concord I have with my brothers and sisters at the West-Ark congregation and I gave thanks for the truthful, spiritual authenticity for the journey ahead.

Hungry for the Great Simplicities

My family and I are enjoying a few days in Branson, Missouri. I can recall my trips to Branson as a child, so this trip is always a nostalgic for me. Of course, in those days we weren't interested in Branson at all. It was just a suburb to the greater and infinitely more interesting metropolis known as Silver Dollar City. My sister and I used to talk about growing up and living in Silver Dollar City. What work would we do? Where would we live? And who wouldn't want to live in a town with a steam train and a rollercoaster?

Silver Dollar City has changed since then. There are new attractions and some old ones are no more (anyone remember the Diving Bell?) Then of course, there is the inevitable sell-out to popular culture. It is not as bad as some theme parks. I am thankful that we don't have to confronted with the Nickelodeon culture at every turn. I don't want to see the Hatfield's and the McCoy's flashing gang signs to their boyz and capping each other in the SD Hood over nothing but bling-bling. I am not a fan of clogging, but I don't want to watch a 6th grade dance class version of Brittney's latest video. (I know, Brittney probably isn't even the "in-star" these days. She is so 15 minutes ago).

I like indulging in nostalgia and I like immersing my children in it even though they have no clue. I am also aware that nostalgia is nothing new. In the hotel room is the latest copy of the Ozark Mountaineer. It is a sort of "remember when" hillbilly-living magazine. It contains an article about May Kennedy McCord, a singer-storyteller once known as the Queen of the Hillbillies. The magazine features a reproduction of a 1942 newspaper advertisement of May Kennedy McCord's radio show. The images and captions hint at the "remember when" nature of the show. The main caption says "The World is Still Hungry for the Great Simplicities." I imagine that would have been a very accurate statement during the height of World War 2. I also am struck by the fact that during an age that many remember as a simpler time, the 1940's and 1950's, they were also longing for a simpler age. Is it possible that our desire to return to the Golden Age is really a misunderstood longing for a simpler, more hopeful future?

Let's think about that. You can tell me what you think. In the meantime, I am going back to Silver Dollar City and take in that distinct aroma of stone ground flour, homemade taffy, smokehouse smoke and hot asphalt that is just how remember it.

How's Your Garden?

This is the time of year when it is common to hear someone greeted with the phrase, "How's your garden?" I love it that people who work in a hospital, a bank, a school, or an office building can gather up the produce from their backyard farm and give it away in boxes and plastic bags. Amateur fruits and vegetables are the best.

I am looking forward to the summer. The height of the goodness will be, as always, the tomatoes. If I had never read the Bible or visited a church but had eaten a tomato, I would believe in God. A real bona fide garden-grown tomato is surely what God had in mind when he said "Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds." I guess all the vegetation could have come up at once, but if it didn't then the tomato is either the first or the last seed-bearing plant made. If it was the first, then it was the standard for all the others and there's nothing to compare to the original. If it was the last, then it was the final product perfected after testing designs with all the others. First or last, but you cannot convince me it was made somewhere in the middle.

So, how's your garden?

The Time of Your Life

Contrary to a popular misconception, I was not a Winslow Squirrel. I have never been a Winslow Squirrel and no one in my family has ever been a Winslow Squirrel. I was a Greenland Pirate.

For those of you outside of Northwest Arkansas, Winslow is a town very close to my family homestead. I was baptized at the Winslow Church of Christ on Highway 71. I preached my first sermon there. It has been suggested therefore that I am a Winslow Squirrel because, believe it or not, Winslow High School's mascot is the Squirrel. Although there was a period of time in which they were known as the "Killer Squirrels" and they sported a painting of a rabid, fang-toothed squirrel on their gym wall. This was never an official mascot and besides the point is moot because I was a Greenland Pirate.

I graduated from Greenland High School at some point in the 1980's. It was after my cousins and before my sister. There were forty in my graduating class. I knew all of the students in my class and most of those in the classes before me and after. It has been nearly twenty years since I returned to Greenland and unfortunately I missed my ten year reunion. Yesterday was significant because I returned to the alma mater. I was invited to speak to the 5th - 8th grade classes on the occasion of the 8th grader's transition from middle school to high school. The experience has left me feeling just so very mortal.

I arrived early, so I walked down the hall and looked at the familiar class portraits of every graduating class since 1948. When I was a student at GHS, I used to look at these photos often. Occasionally I would look for some adult that I knew to see what they looked like at age 17. It was also good for a smile to notice the goofy hairdos, glasses, formal wear and make-up from the past and to follow how they changed over time. The pictures were just as I remembered them. As I paced along the decades I saw old familiar faces that I knew only as photos of the past. The only difference this time is that one of the faces I saw was mine. There in that cloud of Pirate witnesses saying "Carpe Diem" was Chris Benjamin in the silver cloud tuxedo loaned by the photographer. I had become a face from the past with my own goofy hairdo and tuxedo.

I was especially blessed to see some of my old classmates. No pun intended, but yes they are older. The truth is that they are younger than me and they look great, but they are not the 15, 16 and 17-year-olds I remember. I suppose when you grow old with someone you watch the changes happen gradually. The last time I saw these old friends was about 20 years ago so I had to decode the changes in appearance and voice immediately. It was like the before and after images on a make-over show - "Hey, that's you!" Don't get me wrong, these people look great and they really are young. The "before-and-after shock" I felt was more of an awareness of how different I must look to people who last saw me 20 years ago. It just makes you feel "mortal."

Perhaps strangely to some, I feel pretty good about it all. Perhaps the day will come that I feel bad about growing old and I may even develop contempt toward the younger generation. I really hope not. I do not want to be a generational or demographic stereotype. I tried not to be one when I was 18 and I do not want to conform when I am 81. Also, I have never been able to put my finger on one particular period of my life and say, "There! Those were the good days."

The 8th-graders chose Green Day's "The Time of Your Life" as their theme song. It sounds like a sentimental title, but I cannot help but wonder if they are being slightly subversive and saying "Good Riddance," which is the actual title of the song. That's the sort of thing I would have done in 8th grade. I really hope they chose the song for shallow reasons. I hope it was because they thought the music is sort of sweet or because they heard it played on Smallville and all the girls think Tom Welling is cute. I hope that because 8th grade is just way to early a time in someone's life to say that that was the time of one's life. After all, they have four more years until they get to add their goofy photos to the GHS "Walk of Fame." Carpe Diem!

Magic Lantern's Light

It looks like it is going to be a tough week over at The Magic Latern Show. I have enjoyed two weeks worth of new release movies. First I saw Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Last week I saw Kingdom of Heaven. Great movies! Good start to the summer.

However, there are no releases for this Friday (yes, I know it is Friday the 13th) that really interest me. The big release this week will probably be Kicking and Screaming, the latest Will Ferrell comedy. This is the one where he is a TV anchorman married to a witch, right? No wait he's a cheerleader raised by elves. Does it really matter?

What about Mindhunters? It is about the FBI. I used to work for the FBI. Seriously, I was a contracted sketch artist. They still didn't let me in on their greatest secret: What does the J in LL Cool J stand for? Perhaps this film will give the answer. Perhaps this film is one big question mark.

Maybe we could all go see Monster-In-Law. It stars Jane Fonda and J-Lo. J-Lo is going to marry Ben Affleck, but Jennifer Garner shows up with her boyfriend from Alias and then J-Lo falls in love with Vaughn from Alias and Jennifer Gardner (J-Gar?) falls in love with Ben and they are forever known as Bennifer. Wait, which Jennifer make Ben a Bennifer? Could it be that Jane Fonda is there to sort all this out? No wonder she is a monster. Maybe we shouldn't go to this one, it's too silly.

Well, unless one of those art films comes to town there's Unleashed. Now here is an enigma of a film. It looks like a Jet Li action movie but it also stars Bob Hoskins and Morgan Freeman. Isn't that like Jimmy Stewart showing up on an episode of Gilligan's Island? Man, Jet's going to have to carry this film.

Since I hope to be in Branson this weekend I may just take in a live show and review it. Just kidding - then again the Baldknobbers are looking pretty classy compared to Will Ferrell.