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Introduction To The House of Carr
Introduction To The House of Carr

I'm Evil

Thanks to the heads-up from DG we had the chance to hit a preview of Evan Almighty last night. Kelly did a great run-down of it over on her blog, but I just have to make a sad confession: I don't like being in public with large Christian groups.

Last night, the theatre [British spelling] was packed and it was teeming with awkward we're-in-public-but-we're-around-Christian-people-so-it's just-an-extension-of-Sunday-School actions last night.

For instance, in what other setting would you see people in their 40's hurling popcorn at people three rows away [true, Tye?]? Where else would you find a group of people who decided to order a pizza in a theater [American spelling] and ask the person in charge to make sure they would personally seek them out to get it delivered? In what public gathering would you witness people reserving huge blocks of seats? And who else would attend a free screening of a film that won't be released for another few weeks but want to get their $2 parking validated?

And although the movie was rather entertaining, there's no way that it would elicit those kinds of boisterous laughs among a more secular audience.  It was all somewhat . . . embarrassing.

After an experience like this you can fully understand those churches that stress relevance and being cool as a number one priority. They too have been in such a setting and want to make sure their friends don't think Christianity is lame [is it still hip to say "lame"?] so they start a church that has a rockin' band, slammin' video, and totally rad relevant sermon.

So are our choices as Christians between hipster shallowness and nerdy insightfulness?

I don't think so, but I really wanted to write that sentence.

Let's just make a deal [or for hardcore Biblical believers, a covenant]: next time you're out in a crowd with a large group of Christians, let's all remember that there's more to a good witness than a KJV Bible, Stryper t-shirt, and WWJD bracelet.

Just play it cool, boy . . . real cool.

Happy _________

I know much in my mind. I remember a slew of phone numbers, passwords, and security alarms stored in my cranium. For instance: 24-16-22. If you can figure out where to put that, you would gain access to man yriches.

I have countless musical lyrics committed to memory, such as one I was able to recite tonight during class: "With the lights out, it's less dangerous, here we are now, entertain us."

I've memorized many pointless sports statistics, including the fact that Terry Steinbach of the Oakland A's was MVP of the 1988 MLB All-Star Game. Additionally, it's the only All-Star game in 20+ years in which the Home Run Derby was cancelled due to rain.

And, I usually remember all the important family dates on our calendar.

Well, except for two.

June brings two days that I just can't seem to keep straight. My parents were married 37 years ago today while, tomorrow, my brother Chris will celebrate his 34th birthday. I had to ask Kelly yesterday which one was which. At least I remember that it's one of these two dates.

So Happy Birthday/Anniversary Chris/Mom&Dad, regardless of what day it is.

A Force To Be Reckoned With

In an effort to know everything that happens around the city, we subscribe to Cincinnati Magazine. I forgot to mention that this month's issue highlighted 10 best places to live in the city and Walnut Hills made this list. It's like I've been telling you, the Walnut Hills is on the upswing. Notable that also making the list was Maineville, where we lived before moving to the city. Perhaps it's like I've always believed: anywhere we move to automatically becomes a great place in which to live.

How Lo[Can You]Go?

This kind of story happens all the time, you just need to switch out the event and the money amount. They just unveiled the logo for the 2012 Olympic games in London. Check it out here.

Yep, pretty dumb. And Londoners are quite angry.

Exacerbating the issue is that it cost over three-quarters of a million dollars to design.

The President of the Olympic Committee said, "This is a truly innovative brand logo that graphically captures the essence of the London 2012 Olympic Games — namely, to inspire young people around the world through sport and Olympic values."

When's the last time a logo inspired you to do anything? Personally, it was that time I was driving down the street, saw a Jiffy Lube sign burst into tears. I could plainly see that it was a metaphor for my life and realized it was time to change direction. I promptly enrolled in Bible College and entered the ministry. Thanks, Jiffy Lube logo!

Logo design is never easy; you're always going to have someone hate it. But if you're going to lay an egg like this, it's best not to spend that much money on it.

Odds are, it'll be different before those games roll around.

Think Red

So here we are in Reds land, still looking forward to the fall when this season will mercifully come to an end. Every time we think the teams has this thing back on track, they blow a six run lead, offering the tie in the notorious eighth inning, only to lose it in extra innings. So what to look forward to now? Two words:

Homer Bailey.

The young starting pitcher, the promised Messiah of Reds Nation, appears ready to be called up from Louisville to finally join the Major League club. We've been waiting for this for over a year now and, finally, when there's no way he can help the club out, they're going to bring him up.

That's fine. But when should they do this?

Business smarts would suggest to do it on a weeknight when they're playing a sucky team so they could increase the potential for ticket sales. Heck, I'd pay to go see this guy pitch his first game. But as it appears now, they'll bring him up this weekend when they're playing against Cleveland, a series that usually sells out here, without the appearance of the club's Savior.

This is where I'm at: I still have hope in the Castellini group to turn things around here in Cincy, but this season has me doubting.

Last Night You Missed . . .

. . . one of the greatest athletic performances of the past decade. Maybe even longer. Lebron James single-handedly defeated the Pistons last night, scoring 29 of his team's finally 30 points. It was like it didn't matter that there were four other guys on the court with him. I watched Jordan lead his teams to championships but I really don't think he's had a late-game performance quite like that.

And he's only 22 year old.

If Cavs management could just surround him with a couple more capable players, they could possibly develop a Celtic-like dynasty.

I'd love to hear Tim's take on it because he's a consistent NBA watcher and a huge Pistons fan. What's it like to witness a feat like that when it's done to your team?

S-M-R-T . . . I mean, S-M-A-R-T

 [If you didn't no wear the title came from]

 Yes, we use the television as background noise while we work at night. Maybe that's hickish, but its nice two take a breather every few seconds two look up and sea something besides the glow of the laptop screen.

Tonight Kelli made the choice to have the National Spelling Be on. They're erring it prime-time on ABC this year; not sure if its erred on network television before. One things for shore: it's just not as interesting without Laurence Fishburne.

I'm all for riveting television, but is it really wise to use these kids for entertainment purposes? I would rather not have two watch some kids heart break because they slip up once after years of dedicating themselves to learning the dictionary. And do we have to here Robin Roberts go, "Ohhhhhhhh" every thyme a kid gets rung out? And I really could do without awl the sports metaphors. ABC owns ESPN butt why did they feel obligated two treat this as if it was a sporting event? No joke: the following analogies and sports references were made sew far:

  • A speller compared to Steve Nash, of the Phoenix Sons.
  • Mention of hockey great Mark Messier
  • Spelling compared to hitting a three foot putt at the Masters.

They even have Stewart Scott doing post-loss interviews. Fortunately, he has yet to give us a "Boo-Yah!"

That being said, were still watching. Still hoping for E-U-O-N-Y-M though.

I'm done. And spell Czech said eye didn't misspell a word. Iraq.

Wanted: Valet

Class is going well. Thanks for asking. I'm reading a lot of weird, wacky stuff. Thus far, there is only one problem that I have:

I'm parking two zipcodes away.

Now don't get me wrong: I'm all in favor of a healthy walk. I'm always take the stairs when I get the opportunity. And when I used to do hospital calls for church [not that I've stopped doing them; I just need more people to get sick at Echo] I would park further away for the extra exercise. But when you get out of class just before 10pm, you aren't thinking about the extra cardio, you just want to get in your car and go home.

And I can't do that. First, I have to get my sherpa, gather the appropriate supplies, and then make the trek back to my vehicle. Fortunately I live only a couple minutes from campus. Otherwise I would make it home in time for breakfast.

I know there has to be a better place to park. So if you're familiar with Xavier, I have class in Alter Hall. And I'm currently parking by the Cintas. Show me the way and let me know where I should leave my Ford Exploder.

Seeing Angels In The Outfield

There's not much to cheer for if you're a Reds fan. Ryan Freel's collision in the outfield yesterday with Norris Hopper is just insult to injury. But at least after Freel went all out, Norris made sure it wasn't in vain. It appeared that Freel made the catch but, apparently, he dropped the ball. As Hopper went over to check on Freel, he placed the dropped ball in Ryan's glove. Check the video with this ESPN box score and you can see Norris move the ball. Instead of an inside-the-park home run, it was an out. That lightning quick move helped secure a rare win for the Redlegs. All of which begs for the hyperbole: [Chuck] Norris Hopper is so fast he can run around the world and punch himself in the back of the head.

Brooklyn

I haven't seen Charlie and Kelly Butler in person in almost five years. We all attended the same college. Charlie and I played soccer and won a regional championship together and Kelly and I spent a couple of years as co-workers. They have a beautiful little girl, Brooklyn, whom we've never met but know her through many pictures [ah, the power of the interwebs]. Just recently, Brooklyn was diagnosed with Rett Syndrome, a condition that effects their neurodevelopment. It predominantly effects little girls. They have a blog where they're explaining their new journal in addition to some wonderful pics of the little lady. So drop them a prayer and then take a couple minutes to check out brooklynbutler.blogspot.com.

Gotta Laugh

If you don't, you'll cry. Kelly and I decided to do some work tonight and left the Reds game on the television. They're tied and go into extra-innings where the Reds proceed to allow EIGHT RUNS in the tenth.

I was but a young lad in 1982, unaware at how bad the Reds really were. That year they lost a franchise high 102 games. This year's team is on pace to break that record. Could be a very long summer.

At least there'll be no problem getting tickets to the games.

Who Do I Think Jesus Is?

For my Historical Jesus class we were asked to write down our image of Jesus. We're then supposed to revisit our image at the end of the course and see if it has changed. I sat down the other day and, in a few minutes, without consulting a Bible penned my thoughts concerning who I believe Jesus was. Here's what I came up with: Jesus. Was. A. Man. But so much more than just a man. He was God, Creator of the Universe, come to earth in human form. Flesh and Blood and Hair and Bones. Just. Like. Me. But so much more than I could ever attain to. He lived a normal childhood in a small podunk town. He became a man. Took on a trade. Eeked out an existence. But then was unleashed. A mikveh and a voice released Him to ministry. He wandered the countryside and tended to His congregation. He transformed the physical, restoring the broken; His teachings were backed up by His miracles. Oh, and He taught as well, speaking words that have resonated two thousand years. What. An. Incomparable. Teacher. But so much more than a teacher. He was the Paschal Lamb. The only worthy sacrifice for the sins of the world. He was executed like a common criminal, subject to unspeakable brutality He did not deserve. He. Was. Murdered. But He did not stay dead. He rebuked the grave, owning mortality, proving He was who he claimed to be. He ascended into to heaven to reclaim the seat that He had left. But He did not hold on to the past tense. For there is a truth that has lasted far beyond His earthly presence and will forever more. Jesus. Is. Alive.

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Why American Idol Sucks

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I was in class tonight so we DVR'd tonight's American Idol finale. For some strange reason, probably the fact that we know own a DVR, we've watched about every week this year from beginning to now. So Kelly and I sat here and endured the crazy sing-alongs [do these kids know who Smokey Robinson is?], the random pairings [Joe Perry loses major street cred singing with Sanjaya], and insane special performances [was Bette Middler toasted or what?] to get to finally see who will win this thing.

By the time they're doing the American Idol tribute to Sgt. Pepper [nothing like watching angelic AI contestants sing about getting "high with a little help from my friends"] I notice the clock. This show is running late. I start doing the math and realize that we're not going to make it to the end. Sure enough, the commercial break before the announcement our DVR stopped recording. We watched an hour and twenty minutes of slop and were deprived dessert.

Don't chastise me that I should know better and should've added extra recording time. This isn't a sporting event where there's supposed to be overtime. It's freakin' American Idol. Instead of letting Clive Davis ramble on while promoting his record company, they should've focused on getting to the actual announcement. I wonder how long they actually showed the announcement. I'd guess that from the time Ryan announced the winner to the time they went of air was thirty seconds total. Why even have a winner? Just let everyone sing. So now we had to search on the internet to discover that Jordin won. Hooray. Thanks for the memories.

Don't hook me in to your stupid show if you're going to take advantage of me.

Just kidding. I'll be watching again next year.