The (adjective) Elf on the (noun)

Hiding a little elf for kids to discover when they get out of bed each morning has become a favorite (and sometimes loathed) holiday tradition for many families. Santa’s mischievous spy has become an internet sensation as parents seek out increasingly creative ways to display their elves and avoid repeating the same thing over and over again. The inappropriate ideas posted in chat forums and on social media became a meme worthy of a notorious reputation for hilarious antics.

If you were to purchase the official Elf on the Shelf, you will get more than just a simple posable elfin doll, the box also includes a storybook to be read to children explaining the elf’s life and purpose. We have one of the Elf on the Shelf branded elves, Joylyn named it Elfy when she was three. Elfy has been a recurring element of our home every year from the day after Thanksgiving through Christmas Eve. Elfy came packaged with a storybook. However, not all elves have a backstory.

We recently added a second elf to our holiday routines. Annie and I hide one elf every night like we always have while the older kids take turns setting up the second elf for their younger sister to find the next morning. We didn’t buy a second Elf on the Shelf though; instead we got a craft store elf - similar in appearance yet distinct enough to avoid confusing the two mythical creatures. No storybook was included with the discount elf, just a doll in a box.

With no backstory for our new elf, we had to create our own. As a writer, this is something I could easily concoct on my own but that wouldn’t be fun. Wouldn’t it be better if the kids created his story? And what if they didn’t know they were making a story about an elf? For our second elf on a different elf, we did it Mad Libs style.



Now Joylyn is aware how Elfy and *checks notes* Chad know each other. With two elves, we have twice the opportunity for hijinks and shenanigans.

Need a story for your elf? Feel free to play along. Have your kids (or significant other) fill in the blanks for your own elfish story.

Hello, my name is (goofy Name). I am a (adjecive) elf from the (direction on a compass) pole. Elfy is my (adjective) friend. We met each other while playing a game of (something you play in PE), elves versus (animal plural). We won.

Santa asked us to (verb) you every day from now until (holiday). He has a (noun) to keep track of which kids are naughty and which kids are (adjective). If you want to be on the good list, make sure you (verb) your parents, and be (adjective) to your siblings, and do all of your home(noun plural) for school. Don't forget to clean up the (noun) you make after dinner and brush your (body part plural) every morning.

Look for me every (general time of day) to see what kind of (noun plural) we have while you sleep on your (piece of furniture). I might be (adjective) or I might be (adjective), but my goal is to make you (verb).

I will (verb) my final report to Santa on Christmas Eve. Only (adjective) kids will get the best presents under their Christmas (type of plant), bad kids will get a lump of (mineral). After Christmas, I must say (a different way of saying goodbye) and (verb) back home to Santa's (type of building). We are going to have the best Christmas ever!

Love, (same goofy name as before) the Elf

Enjoy. I would love to hear what epic stories you and your loved ones devise. Feel free to share. Or, like the elves do with Santa, report back on Christmas Eve.

The Kids Are Alright

On a Tuesday night a few weeks ago, I was sitting in McDonald's with my laptop and my standard order of a McChicken, medium fries, and a cup of water. When I am writing, I am more productive in public spaces than I am at home. Even with the distractions of people coming and going, I get more work done at a fast food joint or coffee shop than in the comfort of my living room. I prefer Jack-in-the-Box or Wendy's, but anywhere with free wi-fi is fair game for me except Starbucks - it's a bit too cliché.

This writing session was flowing as it usually does. I was typing out a film review in between bites of food, rewatching the movie trailer on YouTube, staring into space trying to determine exactly how to phrase a certain conglomeration of words in a way it would be coherent and reasoned. Then some teens began to enter the lobby. Then some more. And then even more. Three waves of youthful energy packed the place, roughly two dozen when all had walked through the doors. They all appeared to know each other, they bounced from one conversation to the next while waiting to place or receive their orders, a nebulous mass of human forms and boisterous voices.

Normally, customer traffic doesn't bother me. I can continue plucking away at my keyboard as if they're just ghosts in the room, present yet unseen. With this group of kids though, it was different. I stopped typing, looked away from my screen, and observed for the duration of their visit. Sure, they splintered off into small huddles like any other group of teenagers would do. However, they never remained in one conversation for long. They bounced around from one cluster to another. All smiling, happy, eager, and connecting with each other. I watched in wonder.

(like this but less creepy)

I remember being their age. between the ages of 17 and 19, the kids I hung out with would invade various food establishments after church on Sunday nights. We'd roll in, dine cheap, stay for an hour, then leave behind a mess. We were obnoxious, sloppy, and enjoying our time together. Twenty years ago, we were the wayward youth grownups blamed for the downfall of America. The kids I recently observed in McDonalds reminded me of my old group of friends. Descending upon a source of inexpensive edible junk, chatting and laughing the whole time, loving every minute, then leaving.

Yet they were different than the crew from my good old days. I was impressed by how they presented themselves. None wore anything flashy or revealing. None dressed grungy or slobby. Not over the top formal wear like they were on their way to a school dance, just smart and semi-professional in appearance. Each spoke with polite language. They were goofy and boisterous, yet they didn’t use any profanity, insults, or dirty jokes. They were all respectful toward each other and the other customers in the dining area. When they left, it was like they were never there. These teens were just like the kids I grew up with, only better. Their visit filled me with a sense of hope.

This transpired in the weeks after the shooting at MSDHS, before the nation-wide school walkouts and March For Our Lives protests. The kids from Parkland were constant faces on news channels, headlines both praised and criticized them. At the time, I wanted to write something about how great it was to see youth engaged in the political process. Whether you agreed with them, whether they’re right or wrong, whether they succeed or fail is irrelevant. We need passionate and energetic fresh faces involved with political discourse because the decisions our government makes today will affect them and their peers more than it will impact me and my generation.

After the shooting, I avoided writing about the topic. I've talked about gun control before and I probably will again but that wasn't the blog post I wanted to write. Instead I wanted to compose something encouraging those students challenging the adult world, political process, and the way we think about American rights. I was dismayed at the alleged grownups in the room who acted with a maturity level more fitting for grade school playgrounds. Yet I couldn't do it. I tried. There are four different drafts I deleted after I couldn't figure out how to say what I wanted to say in the way I wanted to say it.

I know what it was like to be young and ambitious and inspired and facing nothing but a wall of condescending elders. I felt like I had words for these kids that needed to be said. I wanted to let them know that they would be mocked and ridiculed for their actions. I wanted them to know how people will go to absurd lengths to defend their sacred cows, and when it comes to Murica, there's no greater sacred cow than the Second Amendment. I wanted to tell them the same thing I tell my son about bullies, their words and actions speak more about them than you.

Much of what I wanted to write about was obvious, the smear campaigns and ad hominem attacks were prominent in conservative media. I saw the fake news stories and photoshopped memes on Facebook. Everywhere I looked, I saw a grumpy old man complaining these kids were too young to have an opinion. Every news channel had a pundit claiming these kids were paid actors. I didn't need to warn them what was already happening was going to happen.

There's more I wanted to say. I wanted to let them know a day is coming when they'd look back and wish they had done things differently and it's OK to have those kinds of regrets. I wanted them to know they would make mistakes and they shouldn't let those errors derail them. I wanted to warn them of the danger of overnight celebrity. Historically speaking, youth and fame are not a good combination. The rush of everyone paying attention to you can be addictive. The lure of the spotlight is powerful and can be taken away as fast as it was obtained. However, I've never been famous; I don't have any legitimate advice from experience.

I hope they have strong emotional support. I hope they don't take these days for granted. I hope they remain engaged and do great things with their lives, yet I also hope they do the things kids their age typically do: attend sporting events and concerts, compete in talent shows, go to prom, graduate, take summer road trips, go camping, register to vote, enlist in the military, apply for scholarships and enroll in a university or trade school, get a degree, fall in love, fall out of love, start a career.

At the end of my high school days, the private Christian college I wanted to attend required all prospective students to memorize a Bible verse from 1st Timothy: "Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, and in purity." I wanted to pass on the wisdom in this scripture to these kids leading the Never Again movement. It doesn't matter if they follow Jesus or not, if they're religious, spiritual, or none of the above. There is power in embracing your youth. Any time a young person finds themselves in a leadership role, older generations will attempt to discredit or discourage them. I wanted to tell these kids to not allow their elders to destroy them, to stand strong, to set an example for their elders so loud and noble and pure that it can't be ignored.

That is what I wanted to write, and I just couldn't do it. Then I witnessed local kids in action. I've spent a lot of time with teenagers as a youth leader, yet those interactions were all in controlled and supervised environments of church youth groups and summer camps. My oldest is now a teenager, yet I don’t see him when he's not around adults like me or teachers or youth pastors. My time at McDonald's was like watching kids in the wild, observing them in their natural habitat. No chaperone. No responsible adult monitoring. No grownups telling them what they can or can't do. Only a herd of teenagers free to do whatever they want and act upon their own desires. I couldn't look away and I was in awe. These were not the Tide Pod eating, Logan Paul wannabe, participation trophy receiving idiot youth my conservative friends warned me about.

Whitney Houston once sang, " I believe the children are our future." On a Tuesday night in late February, I was given a glimpse into days yet to come; someday soon they will be our elected leaders and corporate CEOs. Bring it on. Give them a platform and a microphone. Let them lead. Let them protest. Agree with them, disagree with them. Debate them. Educate them and learn from them. If these kids are our future, then the future is very bright.

Predictive Substitution: Harry Potter

I have a confession to make. One that makes me feel as if I have failed as a nerd. Are you ready?

I have never read any of the Harry Potter books. And I haven't seen any of the movies either. Strange, I know. You can shame me later.

Before I lose all credibility though, I must explain. The Potterverse isn't completely foreign to me. A good number of my friends are die-hard fans. Two of my three kids have read the full series of books; my oldest has read each of the books at least seven times. Despite never reading a single line of Rowling's novels, I am familiar with the stories. I could easily fake being a Potterhead.

I see the memes on Facebook and follow J.K. Rowling on twitter. I know enough of the story and plot twists to get the jokes. As for spoilers? Yeah.

"You're wizard, Harry." He's also a horcrux. Harry was an orphan abused by his aunt and uncle. They kept him in a cupboard under the stairs at 4 Privet Drive. Students take the Hogwarts Express train to get to their school, which departs from Platform 9 3/4ths at King's Cross in London. Wizards shop in Diagon Alley. Gringotts is a bank. Ordinary people (those who do not possess magical abilities) are pejoratively known as muggles. Hagrid is a big dude. Death Eaters are bad. Quidditch is a complicated sport. Hedwig the owl dies. Snape kills Dumbledore, but Snape isn't completely evil even though it looks like he might be. Voldemort is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Hermione Granger is the real hero.

If Hogwarts was a real place, and my family was sorted into the houses, my oldest son and I would belong in Gryffindor, my daughter in Ravenclaw, and my youngest son in Hufflepuff. If I had a patronus, it would be a mountain goat. My daughter's patronus would be an Arabian horse. And my fiancée’s daughter's patronus would probably be a Shetland pony.

My knowledge of the wizarding world of Harry Potter and all his friends has been gained vicariously, like some sort of geeky osmosis. While I'll never be a Potter expert, I do appreciate what Rowling accomplished and the fictional universe she created. I know enough of the lore to enjoy the fandom without actually doing the reading and watching work of a true fan.

Which brings me back to the memes. While scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled upon a fill-in-the-blanks with predictive text game that had a Harry Potter theme. Harry was known as "The boy who lived," a phrase that also serves as the title of the first chapter of the first book. This line was the source of the meme, asking friends to use their phone's predictive text get a Potterish nickname.

(Your name), (the gender with which you identify) who (finish with predictive text).

When I did it, I got, "Nic, the boy who has a little more time." Which vaguely sounds like a threat, like my time is running out. Or an insult as if I'm not already doing enough. Perhaps, though unlikely, it's a reference to my superpowers, the ability to complete tasks quicker than expected allowing me a little more time. Note: I don't have superpowers.

Some of the other Potter-names were good for a laugh. The woman who has been through the ringer. The girl who was a little confused. The woman who is coming out of the oven. The man who was a little extra.

These quick breaks from reality give us a temporary reprieve from the dreary headlines of school shootings and scandals involving elected officials. We all need a little distraction in our lives, and I thank the nerds on the internet for providing what we need.

It also got me thinking. Rowling wrote in a way to make the reader empathize with Harry Potter. We were meant to experience the world of Hogwarts through his eyes. We should feel what he feels through both triumph and tragedy. What if we were to place our names into the titles of each of the seven books then completed it with a mix of Mad Libs and predictive texting.

Book 1: (Your name) and the (Dream job)'s (finish with predictive text)
Book 2: (Your name) and the (room in your house where you spend the most time) of (finish with predictive text)
Book 3: (Your name) and the (fill in with predictive text) of (your most exotic bucket list destination)
Book 4: (Your name) and the (closest fluid container) of (finish with predictive text)
Book 5: (Your name) and the (fill in with predictive text) of the (your favorite mythical creature)
Book 6: (Your name) and the Half-(fill in with predictive text) (your title of nobility if you were a member of England's aristocracy)
Book 7: (Your name) and the (your biggest fear as an adjective) (finish with predictive text)

My Harry Potterish book titles are as follows:

Book 1: Nic Casey and the Writer's Favorite Team
Book 2: Nic Casey and the Kitchen of the Gospel
Book 3: Nic Casey and the Kids of Kastellorizo
Book 4: Nic Casey and the Water Bottle of Thistle
Book 5: Nic Casey and the First of the Yeti
Book 6: Nic Casey and the Half-Washington Duke
Book 7: Nic Casey and the Insignificant Morning

Consider this my gift of escapism. Take a break from the nastiness of social media and geek out for a few minutes. Feel free to play along and comment what your books would be called. Maybe one of these days, I'll get around to reading the Harry Potter series. I've heard it's great.

The Violence Trap Part 4: Polite Society

There is another rhetorical meme that is common when discussing violence and gun control that bothers me: An armed society is a polite society. It sounds believable yet it gives me a creepy sensation.

Why is that?

The idea behind this statement is the assumption that people will be less likely to say something rude or act belligerently if there is a greater likelihood that the target of their ire is armed. In other words, as the chance that you have a gun increases, my willingness to express anger decreases. People who cling to this desire for an armed society believe that people will stop picking fights in there is a good possibility that everyone has a concealed weapon.

Politeness doesn’t exist under duress or obligation or anticipation of lethal retaliation. That is not what it means to be polite. That is called fear. An armed society is not a polite society; it is a society that is afraid. A fearful society is not a safe society. Terror engages our flight or fight mentality. People act stupid when they are scared.

However, the idea of stockpiling weaponry is somehow responsible for creating polite citizens is backed up by statistics. Well, allegedly supported by numbers, as demonstrated here.

The best lies are wrapped in a shred of truth. Yes, both nations have comparable population in terms of gross numbers, however the demographics are vastly different. Honduras does have the highest homicide rates of any nation on earth. Switzerland’s homicide rate isn’t the lowest, but it is extremely low. But the factual statements in the infographic end there.

Are Swiss citizens required to own a gun? Well, yes and no. The government requires all men to enlist in mandatory military service and all members of the military are issued a gun. However, the soldiers can only bring the gun home without ammunition and all government issued weapons are returned upon completion of military service. Civilian gun ownership is allowed but far more restrictive than the above infographic implies: automatic weapons are banned. Concealed weapons require a license, and there is a mandatory background check for all handgun purchases.

What about Honduras? Handguns are the weapon of choice in a vast majority of their murders. Analyzing the map to study the geographic location of deaths in Honduras, it is easy to see that most killings are related to drug trafficking – a problem that is nearly non-existent in Switzerland. And Honduras doesn’t ban guns. Most of the 9mm guns used in violent crimes were legally purchased. Watchdogs describe gun laws in Honduras to be less restrictive than other nations in the region from Brazil, to Venezuela, to Mexico.

Guns are readily available and legal in both Honduras and Switzerland. Yet one nation has the highest murder rates in the world and the other experiences very few homicides. Both societies are armed, but one is clearly more polite than the other. What is the difference? Perhaps some additional comparisons could be relevant.

Consider some of the nations with lower murder rates than Switzerland: Japan, Singapore, Iceland, Monaco. Their gun laws are extremely restrictive and they all see less than 0.5 homicides per 100,000 population. These countries are industrialized, wealthy, and educated. At the other end of the list ranking intentional homicides by country, the top ten with the most murders include many of Honduras’ neighbors: El Salvador, Venezuela, Belize, and Guatemala. These are uneducated, impoverished, and caught up in drug-trade; some are governed by militaristic regimes.

We have one set of nations with gun laws ranging from strict to permissive with low rates of violent deaths. The other set of nations also have gun laws ranging from strict to permissive but experience the higher rates of homicide than anywhere else in the word. What sets the two groups apart is not an accessibility or lack of weapons. The laws in these nations have minimal impact on gun violence within their borders. The difference between the peaceful and the dangerous nations is a matter of economic and educational opportunities.

An armed society is not a polite society. Perhaps the best phrasing might be that an educated society is a polite society.

The Violence Trap Part 1: An Anecdote

Saturdays are our adventure days. Anything to get out of the house. Go for a hike. Picnic at the park. Friends' birthday parties. But plans change. Kids get sick. Weather sours. Sometimes, we camp out in the apartment and do chores.

One rainy Saturday, it was obvious the kids were getting cabin fever. Their rooms were clean. Laundry folded and put away. Dishes washed and dishwasher empty. Video game time used up. Hours spent reading. All before lunch. (My kids are early risers.)

By mid-afternoon, they were turning bug-eyed from the doldrums of being cooped up and the dismal weather outside was not encouraging. They were like caged animals looking for a way to escape their enclosure and would soon turn against their zookeeper. Me.

With that in mind, I took them somewhere dry to play: Carl's Jr. We had already eaten lunch so we ordered sides of fries; I let them play while I caught up on my own reading.

Carl's Jr isn't my favorite place in the world. It always smells odd, but their food quality is a step above McDonald’s and their play area is easier when managing multiple children. For that one wet-weathered Saturday, we had the place to ourselves for most of the time we were there.

Late in the afternoon, and older man came in with his granddaughter. Hunched back, grayed hair, grizzled scowl, defined wrinkles - I would estimate his age to be five to ten years older than my father. He carried himself with the boredom and contempt of a man that is not enjoying retirement. He also had a large firearm strapped to his hip.

The gun did not bother me. I have a few friends who open carry, more who have a permit and conceal carry. They are all calm and competent gun owners. None of them flaunt the fact they are armed.

I was not worried about the old man with the big gun. Since I live in North Idaho, I would wager I am in the company of people packing heat far more than I realize. It is something people do around here.

But my daughter was worried. As soon as she saw it she came up to me and whispered, "That man has a gun."

"Yes, he does." I tried to downplay it as best as possible. "It's OK though."

"But why?" She asked, still at a conspiratorial volume.

"A lot of people do it," I whispered in reply, "It isn't anything to be scared of."

As I finished trying to calm my daughter's fears, my oldest son came around the corner with the same observation. "Did you know that guy has a gun?" Christian was whispering too, but not as quietly as his sister.

Before I could give him an answer, the old man did it for me. "And I have a badge for it," he barked from the far side of the room.

That is when my opinion changed. In one grumpy retort, he went from being an old man wanting to spend some time with his granddaughter to a jackass with a gun. He went from being an ordinary citizen with a weapon to a potential danger. He went from carrying a gun for self-protection hoping he'd never need it to carrying a gun in hopes of confrontation.

I know that is a lot of projection and speculation. Yet, if he was a responsible gun owner, he would have respected my ability as a parent to deescalate the situation with my own kids. There was no need for him to butt into our conversation. Even if interruption was necessary, the manner in which he responded was defiant. It was hostile, terse, and angry. There was no kindness in his voice. No attempt to ease their fears. To the contrary, his irate shout made them even more scared.

When I looked at him he was sneering at us. He knew he intimidated my kids and he was enjoying it.

I was offended. I was pushed into fight or flight mode so we left. (To be honest, we have not been back to Carl's Jr since then.)

As we drove away, the questions came. "Was he breaking the law?" No, no he wasn't. "You mean he's allowed to have a gun like that?" Yes, he is. "Is that normal?" Well, lots of people have guns.

The next question was not as easy to answer. "Why was he carrying a gun?"

The first answer that came to mind: "Because he's a jerk." But not everyone who carries a gun is a jerk. As I said before, I have friends who are always armed. They are good people with valid reasons for keeping a firearm with them at all times.

But this guy? This crotchety old man? "Because he's a jerk" is the only answer that fit. How bitter and broken does someone have to be to get a thrill from scaring elementary aged kids?

And he has a badge? I call BS. You do not get badges for gun ownership. Some states require permits for concealed carry, but not Idaho. We also allow you can openly carry without a permit. The only reason he would have a badge is if he was in law enforcement, but he was far too old to be an active officer or a security guard.

He's grouchy. Most likely dishonest. If he's expecting terrorists to attack a small town fast food joint or preparing to be the hero if a disgruntled ex-employee returns to extract vengeance, he's paranoid and/or delusional. And he derives pleasure from scaring kids. Jerk is the only descriptor I can contrive.

When it comes to talk about gun violence in America, it is hard to escape the rhetoric. Both sides use it. Those in favor of and opposed to any measure of gun control have a weapons cache filled with statistics and witty one liners that support their political stance. The arguments come out after every mass shooting. After every high profile officer involved death. After every riot. After every headline that include the words toddler, accident, and gun.

Murder rates, gun deaths, comparisons to Canada and Australia, spotlights on mental health, second amendment, militias, gun grabbing feds. When I hear these tired terms, "facts," and figures, I can't help but think one thing.

One of the most common pro-gun talking points is that guns are not the problem; people are. It was cleverly turned into a meme trying to draw parallels between Walter Palmer and Christopher Harper-Mercer. It said that a when the gun is used to kill a lion liberals blamed the person, but when the gun is used to kill Christians liberals blame the gun. Ignoring the logical fallacies and false equivalences in that meme, it highlights something that I do believe to be true.

America has a problem with violence. It has an obsession with guns. We have a problem of the heart and a crisis of soul.

If you want to say that guns are not to blame, I will agree with you. If you claim people are to blame, I am with you. People are the problem. But if you believe people are the problem then you should be willing to cede that some people should not be allowed to have guns because of those problems.

In my opinion, that old man at Carl's Jr getting kicks off of scaring my kids is one of those people who should not be allowed to carry a gun in public.

Serial Complainers

Serial complainers prior to July 6th, 2016:
"Kids these days. All they do is sit inside and play their video games and binge watch Netflix. When I was their age, I didn't have any of those fancy phones or iPads. We played outside until it was dark. We got dirty and no one cared. We know how to talk to other kids. Today, young people don't have a sense of community. They probably don't even know how to get to the grocery store unless their parents drive them. You know what they need? They need to get out more. Interact with their peers. Go to the library. Visit a park. Take a hike. No more of this watching TV all night mumbo jumbo."


Serial complainers since July 6th, 2016:
"Kids these days. They're every where. Like big masses of dimwitted cattle roaming the streets. Every park, every sidewalk, every coffee shop, every church. There is no escaping them. Hordes of youth taking crazy mumbo jumbo about Squirtles and Pidgeys, and Snorlaxes. Why do they have to invade the park and the library and the grocery store. I just wish they would stay home. They are even out after dark. Doesn't anyone care?"

***Full disclosure: I have not downloaded Pokémon Go onto my phone and don't intend to do so anytime soon. But many of my friends play and I am enjoying the pictures and stories and memes everyone is posting. Despite what the curmudgeons are saying, I believe this game is doing a great amount of good in our world.***

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 31

Day 31? Wait, you say, how can there be 31 days in a 30 day challenge. The answer is simple.

I skipped day 17.

Don't believe me? Skim the archives. If you can find a post for day seventeen, I'll buy you dinner. Why did I forgo day 17? I learned to count in the Marysville school district.

Moving on.

Day 31 (the 30th day some 62 days after I started this challenge) is a song that makes me laugh. I could have gone for the easy joke with a Weird Al song or a Bob Rivers parody. Or I could have aimed for the gutter with a tune from The Bloodhound Gang.

Instead, I'll go with Ghostride The Whip. Why does this song make me laugh? Because there is no logical reason why white kids should be making music like this.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 30

Day 30 - a song from my favorite album.

If you're a long time ready you might recall The Legend of Chin. I have mentioned it a couple of times before - I've even hinted at how "That album was my life."



Unfortunately, the album only yielded only one single as it was before anyone discovered how awesome they were.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 29

I'm keeping it simple today as it is Memorial Day and I'm sure ya'll have better things to do.

Day 29: a song I used to love but don't anymore.



My waning appreciation for this song can be blamed on radio. Modern radio is a hostile place for catchy tunes. This song fell victim to the over exposure the same way as other pop-rockers like James Blunt (You're Beautiful), Plain White T's (Hey There Delilah), Daniel Powter (Bad Day), and so many more.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 28

From one of the more difficult challenges to complete to the easiest.

Day 28: my favorite song from this time last year.

Lucky for me, I posted something along these lines a little over a year ago. This song was my favorite from that selection.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 27

If you look back at the last couple of months worth of postings, one thing should be obvious: I have eclectic tastes in music. That makes today's post a challenge.

Day 27: a song no one would expect me to love

Since the last several posts have practically ran the gamut of the musical landscape from hip-hop to heavy metal to punk and 80's pop, I feel as if there are no more tricks up my sleeve. If I've done my job correctly, nothing I post today should surprise you. Any song that I could think of that you - the reader - might not expect me to love could easily provoke a "yeah, so" response.

Well, here goes nothing.



Nice little bossa nova rhythms with hypnotic vocals. Suzanne Vega has an old-school quality to her voice and a quirky personality that blends into a tuneful concoction that equals the perfect chill out music.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 26

Today is songs from my childhood. That would mostly be songs from the 80's - a mgical landscape of excess and all things ridiculous. I miss those days.

1. Amy Grant's Love Will Find a Way. I've mentioned before how Amy Grant's music played a big role during my formative years. This song stands out in my memory as one most frequently played over the family record player. Yes, kids, I said record player.

2. Peter Cetera's Glory of Love. My dad was a big fan of the Karate Kid movies. Actually, I don't know if he was a big fan, but we watched them every time they were on TV. With The Glory of Love playing as the credit's rolled in Karate Kid Part II, and frequently playing on Seattle's Lite Rock station (one of only three radio stations my parents allowed me to listen to back then) I heard this song a lot. In 1986, I was fairly certain that this was the coolest song ever.

3. Michael W Smith's Rocketown. Amy Grant may have been the most played artist in my house when I was a kid, but MWS was a close second. This was one of my favorites back then. It's also a landmark song for Mr. Smith that he named his Nashville club and record label after this song.

4. Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror. As I mentioned earlier, there were three radio stations played in our house: lite rock, contemporary Christian, and oldies. Michael Jackson did not fit into any of those three radio formats. That was fine by my dad's standards. He didn't like MJ. In fact, he shuddered at the mention of the name. Too many falsetto shouts of "ooh" and "hee-hee." And far too much crotch grabbing. But this song he actually liked. Perhaps the only Michael Jackson song my dad has ever appreciated.

5. UB40's Red Red Wine. This was another lite rock staple. This song always reminds me of summer playing in the street in front of our house. It wasn't until I was much older that I made the connection that this song was about getting sloshed on a bottle of wine.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 25

Day 25 - a song that makes me feel guilty.

This is a tough topic to find a song for as I do my best to live guilt free. Generally speaking, it's not a song that makes me experience a sense of guilt but rather moments when I wasn't strong enough, loving enough, or forgiving enough. So, this song is about as close as it gets to duplicating that emotion.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 24

Day 24: A song that I wish I could play on the guitar.

As I mentioned yesterday, I can play the guitar. Just not that well.

If a magical genie granted me three wishes, one of my requests would be the ability to play any song on any instrument by ear. But that will never happen.

Of the hundreds of songs that I wish I was skillful enough to play, this is one of them. One of my favorite pieces of guitar work over the past 15 years.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 23

Day 23 is a song that I can play on a guitar. This has probably been mentioned before, but I enjoy playing the guitar. And anyone that has seen me play can testify that I'm not much of a guitarist. But I consider it a hobby - one that I do not engage in often enough.

The song below may be the Pearl Jam song with the longest title, but it is the only song in their catalog that I know how to play (and can manage to strum along in time with the actual music playing).



This I can do. If you want to Evenflow or Yellow Ledbetter, you're on your own.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 22

Yesterday was wedding songs. Today it's funeral songs.

Day 22: Songs I'd want played at my funeral.

Fitting topic as the world is supposed to end today (not really). It is an easy pick for me as I have known the two songs I want played at my funeral for several years.

First: On That Day by Pep Squad. Unfortunately, I can't find a video for that song. Not even a audio snippet. But the lyrics are based off 1 Timothy 4:1-8

And the other song: The Finish Line by Steve Taylor, which you can hear and read the lyrics HERE.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 21

Welcome back.

Day 21 is music from my wedding.

We've been married eight years, why am I surprised that I remember what music we had played? First some lovely instrumental harp music as our friends and family found their seat. We used somewhat traditional music for the processional: Pachelbel's Canon in D major. Also along the traditional lines was You'll Never Walk Alone from Carousel sung by a friend of the family.

But the rest of the service wasn't so traditional.

When the Love is Right by Tourniquet played during communion. (and I never realized how long that was until I was awkwardly standing on stage waiting for it to end)

We used Theme from Greatest American Hero (Believe It or Not) for the recessional.

We did not have time for dancing at the reception. We really didn't have money for a DJ. Instead we had a three song slide show of our lives before we met and our life together.

The song that backed the pictures of me growing up was Lucky Man by The Verve.

Bekah's pictorial life was backed by Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlisle.

And the pictures from the year that we dated was scored by Edwin McCain's I Could Not Ask For More.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 20

Day twenty: a song that describes me

I had to dig for this one and the best I could find is a 30 second clip from Amazon. It's an obscure pop gem from The Dell Griffiths called King of Almost.

If my life was a movie, this song would be the theme music.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 19

Day 19 - A song I wish I heard on the radio

My original plan for this post was Sticks & Stones by Jónsi (which you may recognize from the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack). But that was before I discovered the song below. Besides, Sticks & Stones is about a year old now anyways.



Why didn't any one tell me about The Civil Wars? This duo is crazy good with a killer vibe. I've been listening to them a lot while I write. Now, if only Spokane radio stations would give them some airplay.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 18

I'm back on the horse with the eighteenth day - a song I hear a lot on the radio.


I have a soft spot in my heart for artists from the northwest, and I love it when they receive national airplay. Yes, I know these Tacoma natives inhabit the musical landscape halfway between Paramore and Taylor Swift. But He Is We is a great band and their debut album, My Forever, is both fun and beautiful.