During a conversation about hunting, one guy mentioned that he couldn't bring himself to kill any animal, however he does enjoy trap shooting.
A girl sitting next to him gasped in horror before saying, "That's so cruel. Why would you trap an animal and then shoot it."
9.15.2006
9.11.2006
Has it really been that long?
One year ago, Bekah and I had just moved in to a new apartment. Between boxes, baby, dog, and trying to get settled we had ignored any significant events across the nation.
Two years ago, I had just moved to the Coeur d’Alene area. Christian had just been born, I was acclimating to a new job, new people, and new surroundings. The rules of life were being rewritten. The first couple of months here were blurry.
Three years ago we lived in Sioux Falls. There was a memorial event that I wanted to go to, but we never made it, yet now… I’m not sure why.
Four years ago Bekah and I were engaged and beginning to plan our wedding. We lived In Boise. I wore a blue oxford shirt over a red t-shirt and white pants to work. I felt as if that day was important and we were all apart of something that would be remembered. I was working at DirecTV, and oddly, it was just another day. We observed a minute of silence at the right time, and the TVs in the center were tuned into anniversary coverage. But customers called in with questions about their bill or services just like they would have on any other day.
Sometime that day, I typed up a short letter that I e-mailed out to everyone I knew. You can find a slightly amended version of that letter on my other blog.
Five years ago, I woke up in a different world. I had woke up (earlier than normal) and settled into my routine of watching whatever looked interesting on TV before getting ready for work. The night before I had fallen asleep watching the most boring thing I could think of, FOX news. I turned on the TV just in time to watch the south tower fall.
I called my best friend Steve, and told him to turn on the TV. But at that obsene hour of the morning he wanted to kill me for waking him up. "Why" he asked. I said "Trust me, just turn it on" and hung up. He called me back about two minutes later.
Normally I'd only watch TV for about a half hour before eating breakfast or taking a shower. But that morning I couldn't draw myself away from the TV. I was working at Old Navy at the time, but I didn't have to be there till noon. I drove out there but thankfully, they had the good sense to close the store for the day. Who in their right mind would want to go shopping during a national tragedy.
But has it really been five years? It seems as if it was a whole lifetime ago. Nothing has really changed in our national culture. No shift in the way we think or act. It's almost as if the real tragedy is not the act of terror, but a lack of change since then. We are still the same bunch of greedy prideful Americans we always have been.
Two years ago, I had just moved to the Coeur d’Alene area. Christian had just been born, I was acclimating to a new job, new people, and new surroundings. The rules of life were being rewritten. The first couple of months here were blurry.
Three years ago we lived in Sioux Falls. There was a memorial event that I wanted to go to, but we never made it, yet now… I’m not sure why.
Four years ago Bekah and I were engaged and beginning to plan our wedding. We lived In Boise. I wore a blue oxford shirt over a red t-shirt and white pants to work. I felt as if that day was important and we were all apart of something that would be remembered. I was working at DirecTV, and oddly, it was just another day. We observed a minute of silence at the right time, and the TVs in the center were tuned into anniversary coverage. But customers called in with questions about their bill or services just like they would have on any other day.
Sometime that day, I typed up a short letter that I e-mailed out to everyone I knew. You can find a slightly amended version of that letter on my other blog.
Five years ago, I woke up in a different world. I had woke up (earlier than normal) and settled into my routine of watching whatever looked interesting on TV before getting ready for work. The night before I had fallen asleep watching the most boring thing I could think of, FOX news. I turned on the TV just in time to watch the south tower fall.
I called my best friend Steve, and told him to turn on the TV. But at that obsene hour of the morning he wanted to kill me for waking him up. "Why" he asked. I said "Trust me, just turn it on" and hung up. He called me back about two minutes later.
Normally I'd only watch TV for about a half hour before eating breakfast or taking a shower. But that morning I couldn't draw myself away from the TV. I was working at Old Navy at the time, but I didn't have to be there till noon. I drove out there but thankfully, they had the good sense to close the store for the day. Who in their right mind would want to go shopping during a national tragedy.
But has it really been five years? It seems as if it was a whole lifetime ago. Nothing has really changed in our national culture. No shift in the way we think or act. It's almost as if the real tragedy is not the act of terror, but a lack of change since then. We are still the same bunch of greedy prideful Americans we always have been.
9.09.2006
He's two... (finally)
Today is Christian's second birthday. We're throwing a party for him. Last year, he had one friend come over. This year it's two. Gee, I can't wait till he's 12.
For those of you who can't be here, wish him a happy b-day. If you post a comment for him, I'll make sure to read them to him. (Though, I might wait until he brings home his first girlfriend, but I will read it to him.)
9.08.2006
random fact
When I was little, if I heard someone use the term "prima donna" I thought they were really saying "pre-Madonna." They say "She's such a prima donna." I think, hmmm, she's older than MTV.
9.05.2006
Happy Monday... er, Tuesday!
Three things to help get your week going upon return from the holiday.
First, Christian is learning how to use utensils when eating. This is a good thing because now, he will be able to shovel food into his own mouth. Apparently, I cannot do it fast enough. He is a vary smart kid, he knows where his food belongs. Before, if food fell astray from the spoon I was holding Christian would grab it off his plate and proceed to shove fist and food into his mouth. But this weekend, we wanted to let him use his spoon on his own to eat his mac & cheese with peas. (Don't ask, it's one of Bekah's favorite combinations.) This time instead of treating fallen food as finger food, he would pick the cheesy pasta up, put it back in the bowl, and try again.
I believe the origin of the phrase "getting your foot in the door" had something to do with elevators. The elevators at my place of employment will bump your shoulder if you walk though it while it's closing. The door will nearly chop your hand off if you try to keep it from closing with a trust of your arm. However, if you stick your foot into the path of the closing door, it will magically reopen. Occasionally, as I watch people exit the elevator from the far end of the hall, I want to shout "Go, go gadget-leg" just so I can get my foot through the door. This mad rush to get to the elevator would not be an issue if it wasn't for the fact that our elevator is slower than glacial recession.
And finally. I have nixed the idea of going to Nepal. The trip was postponed, and logistically wasn't a possibility for me. However I will be opting for a different trip a little closer to home that both Bekah and I can do. Tentatively, we'll be going to New Orleans October 26th-30th to assist a church and surrounding community in the ongoing rebuilding process. We will be doing some fund raising to go, and we don't have all of the trip's details yet, but we will shortly. As soon as we have those details, you will all know.
Well, that's all that I have for now. I do have to save some brain functionality for work.
First, Christian is learning how to use utensils when eating. This is a good thing because now, he will be able to shovel food into his own mouth. Apparently, I cannot do it fast enough. He is a vary smart kid, he knows where his food belongs. Before, if food fell astray from the spoon I was holding Christian would grab it off his plate and proceed to shove fist and food into his mouth. But this weekend, we wanted to let him use his spoon on his own to eat his mac & cheese with peas. (Don't ask, it's one of Bekah's favorite combinations.) This time instead of treating fallen food as finger food, he would pick the cheesy pasta up, put it back in the bowl, and try again.
I believe the origin of the phrase "getting your foot in the door" had something to do with elevators. The elevators at my place of employment will bump your shoulder if you walk though it while it's closing. The door will nearly chop your hand off if you try to keep it from closing with a trust of your arm. However, if you stick your foot into the path of the closing door, it will magically reopen. Occasionally, as I watch people exit the elevator from the far end of the hall, I want to shout "Go, go gadget-leg" just so I can get my foot through the door. This mad rush to get to the elevator would not be an issue if it wasn't for the fact that our elevator is slower than glacial recession.
And finally. I have nixed the idea of going to Nepal. The trip was postponed, and logistically wasn't a possibility for me. However I will be opting for a different trip a little closer to home that both Bekah and I can do. Tentatively, we'll be going to New Orleans October 26th-30th to assist a church and surrounding community in the ongoing rebuilding process. We will be doing some fund raising to go, and we don't have all of the trip's details yet, but we will shortly. As soon as we have those details, you will all know.
Well, that's all that I have for now. I do have to save some brain functionality for work.
8.29.2006
real life conversation
(Three security guards, two in uniform, the other only wearing a hat bearing the company logo. They speak with Minnesota accents, and ALL should have retired years ago.)
Guard #2: So, these are da computers we're watching, eh?
Guard #1: Yup, dat day are.
Guard #3:Oooh, day hava big screen TV!
G#2: Can we watch da TV?
G#1: Sure ya can. Day don't get many channels though.
(Author's note: I feel so secure... thanks guys!)
Guard #2: So, these are da computers we're watching, eh?
Guard #1: Yup, dat day are.
Guard #3:Oooh, day hava big screen TV!
G#2: Can we watch da TV?
G#1: Sure ya can. Day don't get many channels though.
(Author's note: I feel so secure... thanks guys!)
8.23.2006
overstating the obvious
Overheard...
Two guys are playing ping-pong. In a failed attempt to do something shifty one player hooks the ball sharply, nearly getting it trapped under the refrigerator. If he had have been playing baseball, he would have hit it into the dugout off the third base line.
The man with no control of his paddle then states, "Oops, I screwed that one up."
Ah, yes. I can see that.
Two guys are playing ping-pong. In a failed attempt to do something shifty one player hooks the ball sharply, nearly getting it trapped under the refrigerator. If he had have been playing baseball, he would have hit it into the dugout off the third base line.
The man with no control of his paddle then states, "Oops, I screwed that one up."
Ah, yes. I can see that.
8.14.2006
reality (n) 1:things that are real. 2: the process of buying or selling real estate
Within the last couple of months two close friends have purchase homes. First, mutual friends and where we will most likely be found on Saturday nights. Then one of Bekah's best friends since childhood.
Me... I could care less, but Bekah's starting to get a bit of real estate envy. She seems to think since eveyone else is buying a house, why can't we. Yesterday, in an attemp to amuse herself, she started thumbing through local listing and found the perfect house. (I must admit, it was the type of house we need and in a location that would be great for us)
Problem, it has been on the market for several months and has not sold. Odd, a three bedroom manufactured home in a good comunity less than a decade old at a reasonable price not selling... you'd think there would be something wrong with it. But no. We drove by, it's in great shape. Why hasn't it sold?
Bekah talked to the realtor last night, trying to get some basic information. first question, how much for a down payment? 20%, roughly $14,000. Next, how much would monthly payments be? Payments plus lot rental totaled just over $900. Realistically, if someone had 14 grand and could afford $900 a month, in a city like Coeur d'Alene no one in their right mind would buy a manufactured home. For payments like that (if you have good credit) you can finance a real house.
In other news...
Apparently, my two year old son is a bully. I'm not sure how that happened, considering I was never a bully in any way shape or form.
Me... I could care less, but Bekah's starting to get a bit of real estate envy. She seems to think since eveyone else is buying a house, why can't we. Yesterday, in an attemp to amuse herself, she started thumbing through local listing and found the perfect house. (I must admit, it was the type of house we need and in a location that would be great for us)
Problem, it has been on the market for several months and has not sold. Odd, a three bedroom manufactured home in a good comunity less than a decade old at a reasonable price not selling... you'd think there would be something wrong with it. But no. We drove by, it's in great shape. Why hasn't it sold?
Bekah talked to the realtor last night, trying to get some basic information. first question, how much for a down payment? 20%, roughly $14,000. Next, how much would monthly payments be? Payments plus lot rental totaled just over $900. Realistically, if someone had 14 grand and could afford $900 a month, in a city like Coeur d'Alene no one in their right mind would buy a manufactured home. For payments like that (if you have good credit) you can finance a real house.
In other news...
Apparently, my two year old son is a bully. I'm not sure how that happened, considering I was never a bully in any way shape or form.
8.07.2006
I blame A.D.D.
I must have been asleep for the last couple months, or at least on autopilot. There have been two not very important yet meaningful milestones in the life of a blogger that I seem to have missed with out notice.
First, my 100th post. Second, my first anniversary as a blogger (6/01/05 -6/01/06) . I was thinking about posting links to some of my favorite posts from the past yearish 100 some odd available. But no, maybe that will be my 200th post. Or I'll wait till next June.
Also a milestone... kind of. I have officially been working on my novel for a year and a half. Progress is slow, and realistically the fault is how busy I am. But I'd like to blame A.D.D. I sat down to work on it for a little while yesterday and completed one paragraph. Talk about accomplishment.
It seems awkward to complain about not writing more. Somehow I've managed to keep this site updated and start a whole new blog. I really should be focusing my complaints on a lack of focus.
But there is much to look forward to. In March Coeur d'Alane is hosting its first ever film festival (see link under silver screen). I am planning on taking some workshops through ICAN and hoping to get more involved with the arts in general around the CdA area.
Society is defined by it's artistic expression and the inland northwest has a lot of fine artists to be proud of. (including a fabulous wildlife photographer from whom we purchased a beautiful picture of mountain goats in Banff.)
And before I get completely off the subject, I salute my attention challenged peers. And now, back to writing... something else.
First, my 100th post. Second, my first anniversary as a blogger (6/01/05 -6/01/06) . I was thinking about posting links to some of my favorite posts from the past yearish 100 some odd available. But no, maybe that will be my 200th post. Or I'll wait till next June.
Also a milestone... kind of. I have officially been working on my novel for a year and a half. Progress is slow, and realistically the fault is how busy I am. But I'd like to blame A.D.D. I sat down to work on it for a little while yesterday and completed one paragraph. Talk about accomplishment.
It seems awkward to complain about not writing more. Somehow I've managed to keep this site updated and start a whole new blog. I really should be focusing my complaints on a lack of focus.
But there is much to look forward to. In March Coeur d'Alane is hosting its first ever film festival (see link under silver screen). I am planning on taking some workshops through ICAN and hoping to get more involved with the arts in general around the CdA area.
Society is defined by it's artistic expression and the inland northwest has a lot of fine artists to be proud of. (including a fabulous wildlife photographer from whom we purchased a beautiful picture of mountain goats in Banff.)
And before I get completely off the subject, I salute my attention challenged peers. And now, back to writing... something else.
8.02.2006
Moving on
Over the last few weeks Bekah has been encouraging me to begin working torward something, rather than just working.
This is a puzzling concept. I want to do more, but it seems the only thing I'm qualified to do is what I'm doing now. And the only way to change that is to go back to school. Retuning to education at the age of 27 is not any easy decision, especially with the price of colleges nowdays, and even more so when I consider the family I have to support.
If I was to go back to school, then I've got to figure out what I want to be when I grow up (I know, I'm a little too old to be clueless there). This part is frustrating for me because I tend to dream big. The two things that I really want to do are fields that are incredibly difficult to earn a living: writing and/or studio recording. With both options, I would need a "real" job elsewhere. And a little extra education in liturature composition and record production would help.
But, if niether are realistic expectations, Then what? I could study History or Communications (my intended major when I aplied at NNC and angain at USF), but then what? I would still need a job.
Please be praying for me. I've got some heavy decisions to make during the next few weeks and my Eeyore personality isn't helping any.
Thanx for letting me ramble, and I apologize if you dozed off half way through reading. I promise, it won't happen again.
This is a puzzling concept. I want to do more, but it seems the only thing I'm qualified to do is what I'm doing now. And the only way to change that is to go back to school. Retuning to education at the age of 27 is not any easy decision, especially with the price of colleges nowdays, and even more so when I consider the family I have to support.
If I was to go back to school, then I've got to figure out what I want to be when I grow up (I know, I'm a little too old to be clueless there). This part is frustrating for me because I tend to dream big. The two things that I really want to do are fields that are incredibly difficult to earn a living: writing and/or studio recording. With both options, I would need a "real" job elsewhere. And a little extra education in liturature composition and record production would help.
But, if niether are realistic expectations, Then what? I could study History or Communications (my intended major when I aplied at NNC and angain at USF), but then what? I would still need a job.
Please be praying for me. I've got some heavy decisions to make during the next few weeks and my Eeyore personality isn't helping any.
Thanx for letting me ramble, and I apologize if you dozed off half way through reading. I promise, it won't happen again.
7.31.2006
all of the wonderful / horrible aromas
Good news / bad news.
First, the good. My sinus infection is finally starting to clear up.
Bad: With the clearing of the sinus passages comes a heightened sense of smell. All day I have had odor sensory overload. The basement smelled like burnt bagels and steamed milk first thing this morning. The men's room reminded me of some outhouses far removed from civilization. The elevator reeked of... well, like someone relieved themselves, yet a couple hours later the elevator smelled like cheap fish sticks (not much of an improvement). For a while the scent of pasta and marinara permeated the main floor. And the two dozen pizzas that were ordered for the first floor filled the stairwell.
Add to that every dash of perfume, breath mint, deodorant (or lack thereof), and every cigarette as employees returning from smoke breaks.
My head hurts.
First, the good. My sinus infection is finally starting to clear up.
Bad: With the clearing of the sinus passages comes a heightened sense of smell. All day I have had odor sensory overload. The basement smelled like burnt bagels and steamed milk first thing this morning. The men's room reminded me of some outhouses far removed from civilization. The elevator reeked of... well, like someone relieved themselves, yet a couple hours later the elevator smelled like cheap fish sticks (not much of an improvement). For a while the scent of pasta and marinara permeated the main floor. And the two dozen pizzas that were ordered for the first floor filled the stairwell.
Add to that every dash of perfume, breath mint, deodorant (or lack thereof), and every cigarette as employees returning from smoke breaks.
My head hurts.
real life conversation
Upon return from Canada, my wife made an interesting discovery while unpacking my bags.
Bekah: What are these? (holds up a pair of boxers) Are these yours?
Me: No.
Bekah: Who's are they?
Me: I don't know.
Bekah: How did they get in your bag?
Me: (shugs shoulders)
Bekah: What do you expect me to do with them?
Me: (shrugs shoulders again)
Bekah: That's so gross.
Me: So, throw them away.
Bekah: And waste a perfectly good pair of boxers? I'll just wash them.
Bekah: What are these? (holds up a pair of boxers) Are these yours?
Me: No.
Bekah: Who's are they?
Me: I don't know.
Bekah: How did they get in your bag?
Me: (shugs shoulders)
Bekah: What do you expect me to do with them?
Me: (shrugs shoulders again)
Bekah: That's so gross.
Me: So, throw them away.
Bekah: And waste a perfectly good pair of boxers? I'll just wash them.
7.28.2006
What ever happened to personal responsibility?
I have my reasons for asking. I may share them later but for now, I just want your thoughts.
thnx
thnx
7.22.2006
if stupidity was a crime, he'd be guilty of attempted murder
We are back from Canada, but with the triple digit temperatures in the Coeur d'Alene area I kind of wish I was still there.
Of all the things that could have happened or gone wrong when taking 100 high school aged kids out of the country and then throwing them all onto crowded houseboats beached on a lake in the wilderness... It went pretty well.
I had 15 kids on my boat. Six of them were (are) involved with the worship team, one of the big reasons that I was a leader on their boat. Few of them were friends, but they got to know and tolerate each other fairly well.
A lot happened during the week, enough for me to keep you up all night reading. Some I'll save for later, and some will just be verbal anecdotes for those of you who speak to me on occasion. There is one single event that stands out above all others. It is, as a captain from one of the other boats called it, a classic camp story.
Lake Koocanusa is nestled in the Canadian Rockies. While it's southern most tip is in Montana, the majority of the lake, including the beach we camped on, is in British Columbia. The lake is also a reservoir, one that is slowly being drained. That draining was both a good thing and a bad thing. Good: we gained about ten feet of beach over the course of five days. Bad: it created some rip tide like currents.
I gained first hand knowledge of the strength of those currents Tuesday when we took our boat out from the beach and let our kids swim for a while. We had a small group; four guys, one girl, myself and Big John (the other leader on my boat). We got out to the middle of the lake, Big John shut off the engine so the kids could swim and we chilled for a while, listening to an interesting mix of Bob Marley and Jimmy Buffet.
A couple of the boys were jumping off of the top deck, a fun thing that was not allowed while beached (it would be breaking the camp's only rule: don't be an idiot). There was also a water slide attached to the boat, and for some strange reason, I felt that riding the slide would be safer than jumping from the second story deck. Silly me. Shortly after hitting the water I realized hey, these currents are rather strong. If it had just been strong currents, I probably could have overcome it, except for one unfortunate fact. It was a windy day. Worse, the wind and currents were going in opposite directions.
Once in the water, I was about ten feet away from the boat and no matter how hard I tried, that's where I stayed. The current was pulling me south, and the wind was blowing the boat north. Thankfully I wasn't losing ground but I wasn't gaining any either. It was like a treadmill... for swimmers. One of the kids jumped in and tried to help, but then we were both stuck in the current.
Finally, Big John told the three remaining passengers to throw me a rope. One kid (the worship band's techie) threw a rope. The whole rope. The kid is smart when it comes to Power Point presentations and running the sound board, but not to bright when it comes to more important matters like saving some one's life.
Initially, I was excited for the rope, swam over and started tugging on it. Seconds later I discovered that it was not attached to anything. The people on the boat didn't realize the failed rescue attempt until after I yelled "A lot of good this does me!"
Finally the two of us in the water were pulled in with a life ring. And I learned a valuable lesson: never trust the sound tech with your life, he might accidentally try to kill you.
However, he did put in a bit of practice with the life ring the next day, throwing it out to a bunch of girls who didn't like cold water. He then began calling himself David Hasselhoff... despite being shorter, chubbier, significantly younger, and bearing no resemblance of any kind to Mr. Hasselhoff.
P.S., if you click on the link for David Hasselhoff, be prepared, it's kind of frightening.
Of all the things that could have happened or gone wrong when taking 100 high school aged kids out of the country and then throwing them all onto crowded houseboats beached on a lake in the wilderness... It went pretty well.
I had 15 kids on my boat. Six of them were (are) involved with the worship team, one of the big reasons that I was a leader on their boat. Few of them were friends, but they got to know and tolerate each other fairly well.
A lot happened during the week, enough for me to keep you up all night reading. Some I'll save for later, and some will just be verbal anecdotes for those of you who speak to me on occasion. There is one single event that stands out above all others. It is, as a captain from one of the other boats called it, a classic camp story.
Lake Koocanusa is nestled in the Canadian Rockies. While it's southern most tip is in Montana, the majority of the lake, including the beach we camped on, is in British Columbia. The lake is also a reservoir, one that is slowly being drained. That draining was both a good thing and a bad thing. Good: we gained about ten feet of beach over the course of five days. Bad: it created some rip tide like currents.
I gained first hand knowledge of the strength of those currents Tuesday when we took our boat out from the beach and let our kids swim for a while. We had a small group; four guys, one girl, myself and Big John (the other leader on my boat). We got out to the middle of the lake, Big John shut off the engine so the kids could swim and we chilled for a while, listening to an interesting mix of Bob Marley and Jimmy Buffet.
A couple of the boys were jumping off of the top deck, a fun thing that was not allowed while beached (it would be breaking the camp's only rule: don't be an idiot). There was also a water slide attached to the boat, and for some strange reason, I felt that riding the slide would be safer than jumping from the second story deck. Silly me. Shortly after hitting the water I realized hey, these currents are rather strong. If it had just been strong currents, I probably could have overcome it, except for one unfortunate fact. It was a windy day. Worse, the wind and currents were going in opposite directions.
Once in the water, I was about ten feet away from the boat and no matter how hard I tried, that's where I stayed. The current was pulling me south, and the wind was blowing the boat north. Thankfully I wasn't losing ground but I wasn't gaining any either. It was like a treadmill... for swimmers. One of the kids jumped in and tried to help, but then we were both stuck in the current.
Finally, Big John told the three remaining passengers to throw me a rope. One kid (the worship band's techie) threw a rope. The whole rope. The kid is smart when it comes to Power Point presentations and running the sound board, but not to bright when it comes to more important matters like saving some one's life.
Initially, I was excited for the rope, swam over and started tugging on it. Seconds later I discovered that it was not attached to anything. The people on the boat didn't realize the failed rescue attempt until after I yelled "A lot of good this does me!"
Finally the two of us in the water were pulled in with a life ring. And I learned a valuable lesson: never trust the sound tech with your life, he might accidentally try to kill you.
However, he did put in a bit of practice with the life ring the next day, throwing it out to a bunch of girls who didn't like cold water. He then began calling himself David Hasselhoff... despite being shorter, chubbier, significantly younger, and bearing no resemblance of any kind to Mr. Hasselhoff.
P.S., if you click on the link for David Hasselhoff, be prepared, it's kind of frightening.
7.14.2006
Oh, Canada
Oh, Canada by Five Iron Frenzy
From the Album Our Newest Album Ever
Lyrics by Reese Roper
Welcome to Canada, it's the Maple Leaf State
Canada, oh Canada it's great!
The people are nice and they speak French too
If you don't like it, man, you sniff glue
The Great White North, their kilts are plaid
Hosers take off, it's not half bad
I want to be where yaks can run free
Where Royal Mounties can arrest me
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today
Canada, oh, Canada, I s'il vous plait
They've got trees, and mooses, and sled dogs
Lots of lumber, and lumberjacks, and logs!
We all think it's kind of a drag
That you have to go there to get milk in a bag
They say "eh?" instead of "what?" or "duh?"
That's the mighty power of Canada
I want to be where lemmings run into the sea
Where the marmosets can attack me
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today
Canada, oh, Canada, I s'il vous plait
Please, please, explain to me
How this all has come to be
We forgot to mention something here
Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen?
And Slurpees made from venison
That's deer
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today
Canada, oh, Canada, I s'il vous plait
Bekah and I will be in Canada most of next week. Our church is sending up the high school kids up to Lake Koocanusa for what our youth pastor describes as “the mother of all summer camps.” We will both be counselors for the week, should be a lot of fun, but I’m sure we’ll both be exhausted when we return.
The good news… We’re staying on houseboats.
The bad news… The boats sleep 15; each boat has 15 kids (some more) and two adults.
And yes, I know "mooses" is not a real word. Moose is the proper plural form. Don't blame me... I did not write the song.
From the Album Our Newest Album Ever
Lyrics by Reese Roper
Welcome to Canada, it's the Maple Leaf State
Canada, oh Canada it's great!
The people are nice and they speak French too
If you don't like it, man, you sniff glue
The Great White North, their kilts are plaid
Hosers take off, it's not half bad
I want to be where yaks can run free
Where Royal Mounties can arrest me
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today
Canada, oh, Canada, I s'il vous plait
They've got trees, and mooses, and sled dogs
Lots of lumber, and lumberjacks, and logs!
We all think it's kind of a drag
That you have to go there to get milk in a bag
They say "eh?" instead of "what?" or "duh?"
That's the mighty power of Canada
I want to be where lemmings run into the sea
Where the marmosets can attack me
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today
Canada, oh, Canada, I s'il vous plait
Please, please, explain to me
How this all has come to be
We forgot to mention something here
Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen?
And Slurpees made from venison
That's deer
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today
Canada, oh, Canada, I s'il vous plait
Bekah and I will be in Canada most of next week. Our church is sending up the high school kids up to Lake Koocanusa for what our youth pastor describes as “the mother of all summer camps.” We will both be counselors for the week, should be a lot of fun, but I’m sure we’ll both be exhausted when we return.
The good news… We’re staying on houseboats.
The bad news… The boats sleep 15; each boat has 15 kids (some more) and two adults.
And yes, I know "mooses" is not a real word. Moose is the proper plural form. Don't blame me... I did not write the song.
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