Wanderlust and the Source

Bedtime is sacred in our house. Not because it’s the routine shutting off all the lights and closing our eyes to sleep. Annie and I value it because these are the precious few minutes we can chat and connect free of interruptions from kids who don’t appreciate their bedtime as much as we do.

In these final waking hours of our day we share the best and worst parts of everything happening before we got home. We air the stresses we cannot share with anyone else. We comfort each other as lovers and encourage each other as teammates. We create to-do lists and bucket lists. We set reminders on our phones so we might recall those things our ADHD is prone to forget. We mutually doom scroll social media side by side, occasionally holding our phone to the side with instructions, “Hey check this out.” We ponder the benefits and challenges of various ideas. We talk religion, sex, and politics. We discuss plans for both the immediate and distant future. And, most importantly, we dream together.

This is the key ingredient for the magic binding us together. When we think of what life will be like five years ahead or fifty years from now, we envision our hypothetical future lives as a cohesive unit. These are shared aspirations, not individual exploits. We have had this ingrained in our relationship as long as we’ve known each other. On our second date, we talked about places we’ve always longed to visit. She said she wanted to go to Scotland to see her ancestral homelands. Two of my bucket list destinations (Paisley Abbey and Loch Ness) happen to be in Scotland. We laughed and smiled at the idea of going there together and fulfilling our dreams at the same time.

Annie and I both have an insatiable wanderlust. We feel the tug of the journey on our hearts. Places exotic to historic, from pristine wilderness to ancient ruins, waterfalls and temples, castles and farmers markets. We want nothing more for our lives to go, and see, and do. We yearn to wander foreign lands and disappear for a while.

Real, actual, legitimate picture of us.

Earlier this week, I told my therapist how I believe the best education we can receive is found outside our own culture. As much as I would enjoy a trip to Disneyland to hang out at Galaxy’s Edge, I would rather visit the original Tatooine Star Wars set in Tunisia. Given the choice between a week at Universal Studios or traveling to India during Holi, I would choose the later. Annie would do the same. The selection of culture over capitalism is an easy one.

Unfortunately, Annie and I grew up believing travel was for other people. Both our families were poor and the expense of overseas excursions was too daunting - an unobtainable wish left to wither on the vines of our dying hopes. This wanderlust ached in our bones and called our spirits yet we felt confined to weekend roadtrips and local attractions. We wanted to see the world but doubted we would ever be globetrotters.

All it takes is one little break to shatter the exoskeleton of false beliefs. Two and a half years ago, a new job sent me to Tampa Bay for three weeks of training. Annie and our two youngest girls flew out to visit a weekend while I was there so we could partake in a family Florida adventure. It was the nudge we needed to shed the idea we weren’t meant to travel. How could we hold on to such a concept while doing the thing we thought we’d never be able to do. A few months later we went to Waikiki to celebrate birthdays of mine and Steven’s. Then a month later we were on a cruise boat to Alaska for our belated honeymoon. Since then we’ve made a return trip to Hawaii along with little jaunts to Cheyenne, Boise, Portland, Cranbrook BC, and multiple trips to Tacoma/Seattle/Everett.

We’re not ready to quit. Between now and the end of the year, our feet will tread ground in Mexico, Costa Rica, and Columbia adding three stamps to our passports. Not long after, I’ll be headed to Phoenix with one of my best friends for a DJ gig. Next year, Annie and I have plans to take the family yurt camping for a week and we’ve already booked a vacation to the Bahamas.

Over the last few years, we’ve suddenly began living a live we never imagined would be possible for either of us. We’re finally able to sate that insatiable wanderlust. Our journey begun, we’re only getting started.

After explaining all of this to my therapist, he shared with me a quote from Carl Jung:

According to my therapist, this is what I’m experiencing. After turning forty, I began to truly discover who I was and define my priorities. Now forty-five, I’m finally able to be the person God created me to be. Everything before this was just research. He thinks it’s awesome to watch me discover myself, to see joy unfold in real time. He’s had a front row seat to witness anxiety and depression melt away as I become the real me.

So here we are, Annie and I are world travelers, dreaming of distant shores. But I think I’ve always been one even before I was one. My wanderlust had to come from somewhere.

I was never a good student. I was lucky to get a B in anything. Through most of my academic career, I barely held on with a C average. In sixth and seventh grade, my report cards were filled with Cs and Ds. I got my first A in eighth grade - not just a basic A - but perfect scores throughout. I ended this class with 100%, an A+.

Annie and I chilled last night, enjoying our bedtime routine. I brought this up with her: my discussion at therapy, how excited we are about upcoming travel plans, and other places we want to go (side note: she’s been looking at cheap airline rates to various European locales). Then I posed the question about my school days. After a string of barely passing grades, in which class did I get my first A? She responded without hesitation.

“Geography.”

Correct answer. I struggled in traditional education until the geography class mandated for all junior high students of my generation in the Marysville school district. For the first time in my life I didn’t just succeed, I thrived.

Perhaps I missed my calling as a tour guide or a travel agent. Maybe that is my life in an alternate universe. In this dimension though, I had to wait until my 40s to figure out I was always meant to be this person. Looking back though, I should have known all along. I should have realized this fact about my personality when I was a teenager. I grokked geography because deep down my soul hungered to be there. Every map, every capital city, every monument we studied was a potential destination. I was meant to fly, or drive, or float to anywhere other than here. Or teleport if such technology ever becomes viable.

Oh to Be a Writer

During a recent dinner date, my wife and I talked about some of my recent work - primarily my fanfic suggestions for a Christmas special in the MCU along with Marvel's upcoming Deadpool and Fantastic Four movies. I admitted to Annie how all my blog posts and tweets about things I wish to see in the MCU are really auditions to be a member of Disney/Marvel’s writing team. After all, I’m just a big fan with a fondness for storytelling and thorough understanding of comic book lore. She let me know I should be careful which dreams I share with her because she might just find a way to make it happen.

Then she asked, “How does one become a writer at Marvel?”

I explained in terms I know best: music. “These behind-the-scenes roles like writers and directors, it’s like the Drake song - started from the bottom now we here. Started from the bottom now my whole team here.”

Disney is an empire. Marvel is a behemoth. The people who tell their stories don’t just show up out of nowhere. They did something small. Then more small stuff until one of those projects got attention allowing them to do bigger things. Then they make a good impression through those bigger projects until the decision makers at Marvel Studios asks “Hey, do you want to do that, but with us?”

To prove my point (because I have autism and constantly feel the need to prove myself) I did a deep dive into the writers of the MCU.

First up: Iron Man. Before writing this script Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby wrote the critically adored Children of Men.

Zak Penn, writer for The Incredible Hulk, worked on Men in Black, Behind Enemy Lines, and Reign of Fire before penning the MCU’s second film.

The writer of Zoolander and American Psycho was selected for Iron Man 2. The two movies he did before joining the MCU were Tropic Thunder and Megamind.

Two of the three writers for Thor got noticed for their work on Agent Cody Banks.

The script team for Captain America: The First Avenger wrote five movies before working for Marvel. Three of those films were Narnia adaptations: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Prince Caspian, and Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

2012’s The Avengers was written by Joss Whedon who had a prolific career before working with Marvel. He’s most well known for two things - writing, directing, and producing Buffy the Vampire Slayer; and for being a terrible and toxic person to practically everyone who’s worked with him.

And that’s just the first phase of the MCU. They’re now in the fifth phase with phase six starting in the spring of 2025. Marvel is still using people that proved themselves elsewhere like taking a dude that wrote for Rick & Morty, The Onion News, and Jimmy Kimmel to pen the script for last year’s Quantumania.

The same is true with the MCU TV shows. Before Moon Knight, Jeremy Slater wrote for The Umbrella Academy. Michael Waldron did scripts for Rick & Morty before helming the first season of Loki.

All of these screenwriters wrote cool things, got noticed, and then joined the Marvel fold. Writing for Marvel isn’t a stepping stone, it’s the destination.

One that note ...

Hi Marvel, I’m Nicholas Casey. Author, nerd, and cinephile. I wrote a book and hope to get it published soon. I’m also a fan. Hire me. Please?

On Special Interests

One common symptom of autism is having an oddly specific area of interest. It’s not just the “I like football” or “my favorite class at school is history” kind of thing that everyone experiences. Nor is it the general list of hobbies possessed by both neurotypical and neurodivergent people. The autistic special interest takes the normal curiosities and pleasures of fascination and entertainment then ferociously consumes every trivial aspect of that thing.

Everything in their world relates back to their special interest. Every conversation inevitably loops back to this thing because they know all there is to know about it. You might like that thing, but it is the most important thing to them. It borders obsession. Or as the National Autistic Society in the UK describes it: “intense and highly-focused interests.”

Let’s say you (a typically functional human) enjoys hiking. If you’re invited to go on a hike, you’ll probably say yes. You might even research a couple different trails to see which one is more popular or is easier to access. Then pretend we have a neurospicy individual who enjoys hiking because it is their special interest. They know how long it takes to drive to every trailhead. They know the length and elevation gain of each trail, how many times you’ll have to cross a stream and the sturdiness of the bridges at each crossing, and the varied vistas to see along the way. The normalized interest in hiking and the interest in hiking with autism are not the same thing.

As a late realized autistic, I’ve been reexamining my childhood through new lenses. Seeing myself as a kid with autism explains so many of my eccentricities and peculiar behavior. I was scripting before I even knew what scripting was. I had texture issues with clothes and food. I was sensory avoidant in almost everything except loud music and turbulent weather.

As for the special interests, I was sure I had them but couldn’t remember what they were. Perhaps my parents could tell you. At least I didn’t remember until recently.

Walking around with a colleague, we discussed how we remember the street names and business locations around downtown. I talked about the mental 3D map I’ve created like a holographic projection inside my cranium. This 3D map charts possible routes and detours between my current location in the space-time continuum and my destination. This is when it hit me. Maps were my special interest.

Image courtesy of Travel Safe

During my earliest memories, my dad sold windows and insulation from a small office in the Riverside neighborhood of Everett. His employer sent him to potential clients’ homes to measure the size of existing windows so he could provide accurate prices for replacements or sketch out the wall dimensions for quoting the cost of insulation.

He frequently had me ride shotgun with him. He believed dragging me to work with him a better option than leaving me home alone. We both benefitted. I helped him hold the tape measure in place and he taught me to navigate maps.

Not Apple Maps or Mapquest. Ever-present internet maps didn’t exist in 1983. He carried a spiral bound book showing the streets of Snohomish County, the kind that directed you to a different page when the road you travelled reached the edge of the current page. Eventually, he changed jobs and his sales territory grew. Soon the paper map collection grew to include Pierce, King, Skagit, and Island Counties. I continued to accompany him throughout my youth. Rand McNally books were sacred texts in the days before GPS navigation and I became a master navigator before I graduated elementary school.

I never grew out of this phase. When I started hiking and climbing in the 90s, I became obsessed with the 100 Hikes books published by The Mountaineers. In addition to text description of the trails and photos of Washington’s alpine wilds, there were trail maps detailing every switchback through wooded, meadow, and rocky terrain. As a student, geography was the first class I passed with an A. As a reader, maps at the beginning of books elevate the story for me. From Tolkien’s Middle Earth to Stephen King’s Under the Dome, to Justin Cronin’s The Passage: maps bring me into these fictional worlds.

Image courtesy of Stephen King and Scribner

As an adult, I’ll zoom in and out of various locations in Google Maps, virtually exploring locales I’ll probably never get to visit. My maps fascination helped me discover a swing in the middle of the jungle while we were in Waikiki. It’s my favorite tool when planning vacations, whether we’re doing a road trip to see family in Cheyenne, returning to my hometown of Marysville, or going to a place we’ve never been before. I used it to search for tattoo parlors in Norway, Costa Rica, and The Bahamas - the next big adventures we want to partake. I’ve used it to familiarize myself with the town of Paisley Scotland so I don’t get lost when I check visiting Paisley Abbey off my bucket list.

During those early 80s days of carefree kidhood, there were two other special interests that tied into my love of maps. My younger self was obsessed with drawing mazes. This predated my fondness for maps though. To keep me quiet during church services, my parents supplied me with a pad of graph paper and a writing stick; by the time the sermon was over, the whole page was filled with geometrical doodles, branching pathways, and only one true route from start to finish. When I began reading maps, it was like seeking a path through the maze, only through the real world. Mazes were maps of mystery and puzzles. Road maps also contained mysteries, but fewer dead ends.

Image courtesy of Outside Magazine

My other autistic special interest also stemmed from my dad’s time selling windows and insulation: architecture. I helped him measure so many homes I became enamored with the way they were designed. Floor plans are basically maps of buildings. I began creating house designs in grade school on the same graph paper I once used for mazes. A decade later I was taking architectural drafting classes at MPHS. Up through my senior year, I had ambitions of a career as an architect. Even now I’ll occasionally have the urge to sketch out a rough blueprint of my dream home - a dream that is constantly evolving.

Maps. Mazes. Masonry. Well, not masonry but the alliteration makes me happy. So my special interests are maps: geographical maps, fantasy maps, maps that are mazes, maps of buildings, maps like floor plans, and the mental maps existing only inside my head to help me navigate the world around me. It’s my autistic superpower.

For the Aspiring Performer

My oldest son has a plan for his future. Which is good because he’s sixteen and finishing his sophomore year of high school. Two more years stand between now and graduation. Adulthood is creeping up on him quicker than the ghosts lurking over the shoulders of unsuspecting characters in one of the Conjuring movies. A plan is a great thing for a kid his age to possess.

Christian will be taking some construction arts classes next year and intends to focus on electrical engineering after completing high school. He knows electricians make good money and the career is fairly recession proof so he plans on doing his apprenticeship, working as a journeyman, then becoming a master electrician. If reality was a D&D game, electricians are wizards and he aims to max out his character’s stats.

image courtesy of vforvegard

However, if he was a D&D character in real life, there’s a bit of a bard deep inside his spirit, waiting for its time to shine. Last fall, Christian participated in competitive drama. He and his partner won second place in their district and fourth place in the state of Idaho. Much like I did when I was his age, he’s found freedom in the theatrical world. He feels he can most be himself by pretending to be someone else. In addition to his dreams of working as a master electrician, he also want to continue acting after he graduates high school. He added a new item on his bucket list - he wants a role in a major studio movie, even if it is as an extra.

Electrical work to make money. Theatrical work to bring him joy. If you ask me, it sounds like a good plan.

On a recent trip to Seattle, Christian and I had a couple hours to break away from the rest of the family and spend some time together, just the two of us. Our schedule wouldn’t allow us to drive up to Marysville for a tour of my hometown so I thought the next best thing would be an introduction to a former classmate of mine. As an added bonus, this old friend has been active in the Seattle theater scene for most of the past quarter century. I messaged Dan and asked if I could buy him a cup of coffee and let my son pick his brain. He enthusiastically agreed.

Dan is a great guy. I knew my son could learn a lot for him and I hoped to share a few laughs reminiscing about the times we shared in the MPHS drama club. What I got (and didn’t expect) was to hear him dispense advice for me as well as my son. We had a great conversation that lasted longer than I thought it would. While my 42 year old brain can’t remember everything we discussed, there are a few key bits of guidance Dan contributed which I found helpful, if not inspiring.

Much of what he shared came from the perspective of an experienced actor. However, his counsel is applicable in any artistic or performance industry. From musicians to photographers to writers, he provided personal anecdotes and recommendations worth consideration.

If you or your kids are performers - either as an amateur or a professional, take some time to absorb these highlights from the time Christian and I spent with Dan.

1. Don’t stop learning. Christian mentioned interest in studying karate and asked if it would be helpful. Dan said absolutely. He participated in competitive fencing and his experience there led to roles he might not have gotten without learning how to fence. He also talked about how being bilingual opens up opportunities nonexistent for English only speakers. Dan informed Christian any specialty skills gained make you more valuable to people who want to hire you.

2. Fail in a safe place. Everyone makes mistakes - especially when starting out as a performer. Find ways to hone your craft in a small space before going big. Join student or small community productions, film videos for YouTube or TikTok, livestream on Twitch, attend open mike nights, book shows at dive bars where the dozen in attendance are probably drunk and don’t care if you are terrible. Those places offer low stakes with minimal consequence for failure and give you the freedom to screw up and keep going. Successes in these small spaces build confidence you need to be great when greatness matters.

3. Get involved. As a student, Christian has plenty of chances to be involved with theater and arts programs through his school. Yet for those of us older than a teenager, there are still ways we can participate in our chosen crafts. For those wanting to act, Dan suggested community theaters are a great place to start. Writers have blogs, singers have YouTube. Involvement in civic organizations help you learn how things function behind the scenes, the etiquette, the traditions, all the things unseen by the audience. You don’t even need to be performing to be involved. Dan told Christian he should volunteer as a way to get his foot in the door.

4. Find a mentor. Mentors could be a teacher; Dan and I both had a phenomenal mentor in Mr K when we were at MPHS. Outside of school, there are coaches and trainers available to hire. If you’re involved in community organizations, it’s possible to find someone there who is older and wiser willing to usher you to bigger and better things.

5. Do the scary stuff. “As an actor,” Dan said, “if there’s something that scares me, it’s a good sign I should probably do it.” He wasn’t talking about the dangerous or potentially harmful king of scary - rather he was speaking of the roles and challenges that seem intimidating. He gave us the example of taking on comical parts after spending years considering himself as nothing more than dramatic actor. Doing things that seem daunting helps you grow and creates greater opportunities in the future.

6. Watch for red flags. Dan has learned to watch for troubling signs about producers and directors to avoid taking roles or participating in shows potentially problematic. For example, if they’re disorganized during an audition, the rehearsals and production will probably be disorganized too. If multiple friends and colleagues are warning you to not work with a particular person, there’s probably a valid reason for their words of caution. If people make too-good-to-be-true promises, it probably is too good to be true.

7. Learn when to say no. This was Dan’s answer when I asked him if there’s anything he would do differently. He talked about how not every opportunity is a good one. As a young or beginning creative worker, it’s easy to say yes to everything. You’re hungry for a gig and eager to prove yourself. Inevitably, everyone ends up working on projects they shouldn’t have accepted. Learning to say no helps reduce the number of times you look back in hindsight and regret doing this job or that gig.

8. Remember your power. In creative industries, there are people who think they possess all of the power as if they’re little demigods in the world of arts and entertainment. Agents, publishers, directors, producers. They act big and tough, presenting an image of unquestionable authority giving artists the only option to shut up and take whatever is offered. While it is true they have power, they don’t have it all. You have power too. They will research you before they offer you anything, you have the power to research them too. Study them, ask around for others who have worked with them to see what their experience was like. Look into the quality or other work they’ve done. Everyone has power and no one is more powerful than anyone else. If a director or a publisher uses their power in a way that is abusive or manipulative, you have the ultimate power to say no and decline working for or with them.

If you know Dan and have the chance to spend some time with him, I’d encourage you to do so. He’s filled with wit and wisdom. You will probably walk away from the conversation encouraged or motivated. Possibly both.

If you’re in the Seattle area, Dan will be a part of the cast for GreenStage’s return to live in-person performances with Shakespeare in the Park this summer. Please go see one of their shows and enjoy some of the culture the city has to offer.

Finally, regardless of where you live, please support your local arts community. Starving artists everywhere do what we do for people like you. After a year like 2020, your patronage is more important than ever.

Nervous Energy

Do you know the energetic nervousness you feel when you are about to take a step into something unknown, thrilling, and potentially fabulous? Not quite anxious but you are still nearly paralyzed with anticipation. You feel as if the air you breathe is filled with danger yet it makes you powerful like you could conquer the world. You posses the intimidating knowledge that the next moment of your life will change everything and all you have to do is move. It is an emotion of trepidation tempered with awe.

I am familiar with those butterflies fluttering around my belly, forcing their way into my chest with the intention to make my heart stop. There were days in my life when I could sense every muscle in my body taut and ready to react as soon as my brain gave the command. Good memories.

Like the night of a final performance at the Everett Performing Arts Center. I was dressed in costume and makeup was applied. I huddled behind the curtain waiting for my turn to walk out on to stage to follow the choreography and deliver my scripted line of dialog. It was only a bit part but still a fun experience. Closing night was even more nauseating than opening night because it was a sold out audience and I knew most of my friends and family were in attendance.

Or the day my buddies took me cliff diving. Clothes left behind at the car, we walked barefoot to the river wearing nothing but our swim trunks. Steve and Nate were the first into the water. I found myself alone at the edge of the rocks looking 20 feet down into a section of river where the current was slower and the water was deeper than other parts both upstream and downstream. A long breath, a small leap, and a descent that lasted no more than two seconds but felt like eternity.

There was the snowy morning I dressed up in a rented tux and stood in a hall outside the sanctuary, awaiting the moment to stand before everyone I knew to say "I do" to the girl with whom I had fallen in love.

And the time I spent in a small office with the people who would decide if I was qualified to accept a promotion that would have doubled my income. I did my best to answer their questions and paint myself as the ideal candidate. Not to mention the following days not knowing new whether I would be offered the position or if they chose to go with someone else.

Again recently. A first draft, re-write, proofreading, and editing. Save it, title it, attach it to an email. Those few seconds with my mouse cursor hovered over the send button to submit my first freelancing opportunity.

These are little glimmers of reality that shape who we were, who we are, and who we will become.

You know these feelings. Of stage dives and mosh pits. Of first dates and first kisses. Of waves crashing into the beach's shore. Of roasting marshmallows over a campfire and watching a meteor shower. Of singing songs with a bunch of friends and an acoustic guitar. Of merging onto the freeway at the beginning of a road trip. Of the roar from a waterfall and the soft chirping of crickets. Of city lights and sunsets. Of trying a new restaurant that quickly becomes your favorite place to eat. Of dancing in the rain. Of taking a stand for justice. Of checking an item off your bucket list.

That sensation is back but I cannot explain why. It is like I am dancing on a live wire. I have had that feeling gripping my nerves all day today, as if I am about to do something bold and reckless and amazing. Problem is, I do not know what that thing is.

But the vibe is there. Pure unbridled excitement on the verge of ... of ... well?

I have felt like that all day and the reason is beyond what I am able to explain. Yet I wouldn't trade for anything. This. The butterflies, the giddiness, the awkward wondering of what is about to happen. This reminds me that I am alive.

Podcasts - Stick It in Your Ear

In pursuit of better mental health, I have improved my learning habits. Reading more. Writing more. Actual study. Another learning tool is found in consuming podcasts. This is a deviation from my natural inclination to spend my day listening to music. I still believe in the therapeutic benefit of hearing a collection your favorite songs, but podcasts are something different.

I am using podcasts to keep my mind active. These are opportunities to learn something, to challenge and inspire myself, to support my geekier tendencies, and stimulate thinking beyond my daily routine. And occasionally, these podcasts provide much needed reason to laugh.

Here is my list of Podcasts - divided up in three sections.

Group 1: Thinkers

• Live Your List: A leadership podcast from Ryan Eller and Jerrod Murr with an emphasis on bucket lists and intentional living.
• The BadChristian Podcast: Matt and Toby of Emery with their friend and pastor Joey talk about church culture and taboo topics through irreverent conversations, interviews, and bizarre news stories in hopes to challenge the church to talk about stuff that actually matters.
• Never Was: Former Stavesacre vocalist Mark Salomon reminisces over his career while interviewing his friends and fellow 90s era musicians.
• NPR's TED Radio Hour: A showcase of TED keynote speakers with interviews and clips from their TED talks.
• Ask Science Mike: Mike McHargue answers questions about science and faith submitted by show listeners - grounded in both scientific and biblical study.
• RELEVANT Podcast: The weekly podcast mixing indie music, culture, interviews, and faith from the group that publishes RELEVANT Magazine.

Group 2: Nerds

• Fat Man on Batman: Kevin Smith discusses his Batman fandom and general geekery with filmmakers, comic books creators, and other Batman fans.
• The Weekly Planet: The two Australian guys behind comicbookmovie.com chat about movies, TV shows, comic books, and related geek news.
• The Deucecast Movie Show: David Dollar and some of his friends talk about their favorite movies with topics ranging from romantic comedies, to musicals, summer blockbusters, and Disney classics.
• You Hate Movies: Josh Dies of Showbread gather friends together to argue about movies.
• It's a Duck Blur: A husband and wife team from Australia spend an hour to an hour and a half talking about each 22 minute episodes of Duck Tales - all 100 of them.
• Doug Loves Movies: Comedian Doug Benson performs with his comedian friends before a live audience in a show that is equal parts stand-up comedy and trivial game show.

Group 3: Preachers

• The RobCast: The weekly podcast from Rob Bell featuring interviews or topical discussions to connect Jewish traditions of the ancient world and our modern society.
• Daily Audio Bible: Daily scripture reading from Brian Hardin that goes through the entire bible in a year.
• Hillsong: The weekly sermon from Brian Houston's Hillsong Church in Sydney Australia.
• Bethel: The weekly sermons from Bethel Church in Redding California.
• North Point: The weekly sermons from Andy Stanley's Atlanta area church.
• Beautiful Struggle: B3ar Fruit artist Octavious interviews hip-hop artists about the origins of their faith and artistry.

That is what fills my ears and brains, and I am always up for suggestions.

What podcasts do you enjoy?

The Practical One

My daughter is the most practical of my three kids. When presented with new information, she approaches it with reason and logic in a way that is admirable for any elementary aged kid. At her best, she is calm and collected and almost diabolical in the best way possible.

This trait will serve her well as she grows up and faces teenaged drama. But for now, she delivers eight year old wisdom with pluck and grace. It has its downside though. She has the tendency to apply her sense of practicality to my daydreams.

Perhaps I should explain.

We were out running errands and stopped at a traffic light. While waiting, a Porche Carrera slipped by in the lane next to us and joined us in the line for a green light. It was a couple years old and had a freshly detailed shine.

I whistled, perhaps even purred. "That is a beautiful Porche," I said.

"What's a Porche?" JJ asked.

I gave the simplest answer that I could think of. It is a vehicular work of art. They're expensive, fast, and stylish.

Then Zu came in with her logic. "Is there a back seat in a Porche?"

"Well, no." I answered.

"Ugh." Zu expressed instant judgement. "Then you can't have one, Daddy."

Her practical mind recognized that she and her brothers would not be able to ride with me if my budget magically allowed me to own a Porche.

image courtesy of Top Car Rating

Zu repeated this practicality a little later. We were on our way home from church and passed a new Mazda MX-5 convertible. Once again, I made a remark about the attractive car and Zu instantly noticed the problem. "No, Dad, there isn't a back seat. You can't have one."

That Mazda reminded me of an item on my bucket list. Someday, when the kids are grown and on their own, I want to rent a sporty little convertible like that Mazda and drive the entire length of the 101 from the Olympic Peninsula, down the Pacific coast through Washington, Oregon, and California to Los Angeles. If I'm married, it is the kind of trip I would want to take with my wife. We would stop anywhere along the road that looks interesting and enjoy the sights and flavors of the quintessential left coast experience.

I am always looking for opportunities to inspire my kids and encourage them to dream big. So I took the opportunity to share my dream with them. I explained it in a brief summary, taking care to explain this is something that wouldn't happen until they were all adults.

Zu was not supportive. Her first concern is that she wouldn't get to go with me. I stressed again that this is something that I would not do while they still lived at home. I would wait until they were grownups and had their own families and careers. I told her that I believe it is important for us to set goals and dreams - even if it is something that isn't going to happen for another 20 or 30 years.

That helped her feel better, however she was still not convinced. "But dad," she objected, "what if JJ still lives at home?"

"Oh, Zu. I would wait until all of you have your own life."

"But what if JJ doesn't?"

She was serious. My daughter was legitimately concerned that her younger brother will never move out. With that assumption, Zu's practical mind could not accept the idea of daddy leaving little bro behind.

Bucket List: Item #1

Today is St. Patrick's Day - a holiday to honor the patron saint of Ireland, to celebrate Irish heritage for those of us that have it (or at least pretend to), and a cheap excuse to drink green beer. I am partially Irish. There is a deep part of my being that longs to visit: to see the Giant's Causeway, to eat at Caffe Banba at the northernmost point of the island, attend a Gaelic football game, kiss the Blarney Stone, watch the sun rise over the Irish Sea and set over the North Atlantic.

But the first entry on my bucket list isn't about Ireland. Well, not exactly.

Item number one on my list is to celebrate a holiday in a foreign country. Any holiday. Somewhere other than the USA.

How cool would it be to stay in Tokyo for New years Eve? Or the Chinese New Year in Hong Kong? Or in Munich for Oktoberfest? Valentine's Day in Venice? Easter in Jerusalem? Christmas in Oslo? Carnival in Rio?

Or ...

What about St Patrick's Day in Dublin?

Perhaps that is the Irish in me speaking. Perhaps that is the yearning to make a pilgrimage to my ancestor's homelands. Perhaps it is nothing more than wanderlust.

Today is St. Patrick's Day. And it would be an amazing experience to spend the holiday in the country where it started.

from here to the other side of the world AKA what I really want for Christmas

Small update.

This coming December, I have the opportunity to travel to Nepal for two weeks, returning home Christmas Eve. This would be a great chance for me to complete two of my greatest desires: I have always wanted to serve on a foreign missions trip & I've always wanted to go to Nepal.

However, to go there are some daunting obstacles to overcome. The first and most obvious is money. The trip is not a free ride. In fact costs a big chunk of change (roughly $2500). Then there are all of the little things that would need to be taken care of prior to going: obtaining a passport, all of the medical shots, training and preparation. I would also need to get into better shape. The villages there are at high altitudes and the most common mode of transportation are chevrolegs. Well... I need to lose a few pounds anyways, right?

The need there is equally daunting. Most people don't realize that Nepal is one of the poorest countries on earth. Because of their sociological and religious history, most Nepali don't understand the concept of hygiene or sanitation. Nepal is also the only nation with Hindu as their official religion.

Please keep me in your prayers. I am excited for the opportunity to go somewhere as beautiful as Nepal for what could be an amazing experience. Pray that God opens up the doors and enables me to go.

I will be posting further info both here and on MySpace.