Tuesday, April 19, 2011

What's in your brain?


A couple of months ago I ran across an LA Times article with a classic title:

"Man discovers a knife blade lodged in his head. It happens."

Apparently, some guy in China lived several years with a knife blade unknowingly lodged in his skull. I'm sure the final diagnosis made sense of his frequent headaches and occasional bleeding from the mouth and ears.

The story starts with the line, "If you have stabbing pains in the head, maybe it's because you were stabbed in the head."

We'll file this one under unusual and AWESOME.

Click here to read the FULL STORY.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Double Twilight ALL THE WAY!!


I was sitting at a sports bar in the Sacramento airport when Christina Aguilera botched the lyrics to the National Anthem.

In all fairness, the Star Spangled Banner is probably one of the hardest songs to sing. Just picking the right key to finish the song without embarrasment is enough of a task, let alone singing in "a capella" nakedness in front of millions of people (169.2 million according to Nielsen Television Ratings).

It wasn't until the 4th line that the singing pop star tripped over her words. Superbowl XLV was just starting to crown as the Announcer spoke,
"And now, to honor America: 5 time grammy award winner, Christina Aguilera..."

Aguilera began strong,
"O say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight
what so proudly we watched at the twilight's last gleaming?"

Miss Aguilera forgot the line about the ramparts gallantly streaming and instead sang of proudly watching the twilight's last gleaming... again.

I laughed out loud and quickly realized no one around me was laughing. You'd think California's State Capitol would be a good place to find people that know our Nation's anthem.. apparently not. Someone did, however, manage to shoot me a death-stare for laughing during the anthem.

I should have given Christina more credit for continuing on and belting out the notes she did in the latter part of the song. She clearly showed character and was seemingly "saucing it up" to make up for her earlier mistake.

Instead, I immediately changed my facebook status: "national anthem lyrics re-written.. thank you christina aguilera"

Forgiveable? Yes. Lord knows I've felt like the horse's patoot many times before. But if it were me, I'd like to think those lyrics would be etched in my brain before singing. There are lots of things you can't control: wind.. rain.. storms.. pigeon's crapping on you (just ask Kings of Leon), but memorizing lyrics is something you can.

I bet those lyrics are burned in her brain now... but hindsight is, well, you know.

Check out her performance below:

Friday, January 28, 2011

January 28, 1986



"There's a teacher just like me on that Space Shuttle!"

We sat in awe on the floor of our 1st grade classroom watching the space shuttle launch. I tried to wrap my little 6 year old brain around the fact that a teacher just like ours was heading towards the stars.

Our teacher assured us this was a privilege. She had managed to obtain one of the few school televisions to be rolled into our classroom for the viewing.

Christa McAuliffe, a high school social studies teacher from New Hampshire, had won the "First Teacher in Space" competition. She was to be the first of several every day American citizens NASA would strategically take into space.




Nothing would prepare us for what we were about to see. 73 seconds into flight, the shuttle exploded before our eyes. The 7 crew members of STS-51-L would never be seen again.


Our teacher couldn't answer the questions we asked of her...
"What happened?"
"Is she okay?"
We didn't know how to translate tears and silence.

President Reagan appeared on National Television later that day to speak to me,

"And I want to say something to the school children of America who were watching the live coverage of the shuttle's take-off. I know it's hard to understand, but sometimes painful things like this happen. It's all part of the process of exploration and discovery. It's all part of taking a chance at expanding man's horizons. The future doesn't belong to the faint-hearted, it belongs to the brave. The Challenger crew was pulling us into the future and we'll continue to follow."
-Ronald Reagan

The entirety of his speech can be viewed below:



Today marks the 25th anniversary of the Challenger disaster. Oddly enough, I now live in the same town I did 25 years ago & I keep having flash backs to that January school day. I'm still processing what happened. My heart goes out to all of the family and friends of the crew.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

the DIGITAL Story of the Nativity

The Nativity Story set to Modern Technology... enjoy:

Thursday, November 18, 2010

the RUNNING journals

"Hey look! There's a man running!"

I've reached the age where it's awkward to run by an elementary school during recess.

I could hear their little 1st grade inner-monologues playing, "Stranger!" "Stranger danger!!"

And I can't blame them... I'm thinking the same thing thanks to Detective John Kimble.

And I'm not exactly sure how to solve this problem, so for now I think I'll just contemplate a new jogging route.

Monday, October 11, 2010

subway violin

The following is an article I recently read that piqued my interest...

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.



This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities.

The questions raised:

*In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

*Do we stop to appreciate it?

*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…

How many other things are we missing?


see the REFERENCED ARTICLE here

Friday, September 10, 2010

On Parenting

The Four Phases of Parenthood
Your role changes as your child grows. What’s yours right now?
by Bob Hostetler


It came as a shock. In the course of telling a story to my friend Jon, I mentioned that I had gone into my son's room to wake him up. Jon interrupted me.

"How old is Aaron?"

We both knew very well how old he was, but I told him. "Sixteen," I said.

"Why are you still getting him up in the morning?"

I had no answer. I felt like a bald man who's just been asked why he carries a comb in his pocket. Somehow, in the busyness of parenting two teenagers, I had held on to a habit that made sense when my children were preschoolers but now was far from appropriate.

That's when I decided to give more careful attention to the different phases of parenthood and to acknowledge areas where I'd lagged behind in parenting my daughter, Aubrey, and my son, Aaron. In doing so, I not only introduced a little more sanity to my life, but also prepared them — and me — for their fast-approaching independence.

Phase One: Commander
In the first years of a child's life, a parent does everything for him. The parent functions as a benevolent dictator, telling the child who to listen to, what to eat, when to go to bed, how to perform a task.


In this phase of parenthood, the task of the loving parent is to encourage a child's growth from discipline to self-discipline. As paraphrased in The Message, "A refusal to correct is a refusal to love; love your children by disciplining them" (Proverbs 13:24).

During my children's early years, I repeatedly used the parenting phrases "Yes, because . . . " or "No, because . . . " I not only dictated my children's actions, but also took pains to explain the reasons a certain thing was prescribed or prohibited.


Phase Two: Coach
I used Aubrey and Aaron's summer break to teach them about work and wages — interviewing, hiring and even occasionally firing them from jobs around the house and garden. The idea was not only to teach but also to encourage their growth from direction to self-direction, giving them more responsibility with each new job.

I often tried to help clarify — rather than dictate — my children's choices for them. I found myself repeatedly using the phrase, "Would you rather do this . . . or that?" Obviously, I never tempted them to choose something wrong or foolish; the phrase was simply a tool to help them gain experience in making their own decisions. For example, I might ask, "Would you rather leave now for church and have time to talk to your friends, or leave a little later and go straight to your class?"



Phase Three: Counselor
If you haven't yet experienced it, you will soon: The day dawns for every parent when he or she is no longer the driving influence in a child's life.

The task of the loving parent is to encourage a child's growth from dependence to independence; it is especially important in this phase of parenthood. This is the phase — usually in the teen years — when a child can reasonably be expected to understand what is right, just and fair.

Too many of us continue to parent our teenagers in much the same way we parented them as toddlers or grade-schoolers. When our kids begin to strain against the reins, like a horse that's eager to run, we pull back hard — as though it's wrong for them to seek independence. But that's exactly the purpose of the teen years. In fact, we should encourage that drive for independence and channel it in the right direction.

The operative phrase during these years is, "That's a decision you can make." When my children came to me for permission, I would often quiz them about what decision they would make if I gave them that freedom. I encouraged them to take responsibility in decision making, and they responded. I offered suggestions and warned them about the potential consequences of poor decisions, but I tried to leave the decision up to them as often as possible.

Of course, the risk I took was that my children would make poor choices, and sometimes they did. But little by little, they became capable of finding the right course.

Phase Four: Consultant
No words adequately describe the jumble of emotions a parent experiences driving away from a child's freshman college dorm. It's frightening on so many levels. But it's less frightening if the parent has successfully navigated the first three phases.

The task of parenting isn't done at this stage; it is no longer one of proactive involvement but of patient availability. Like Solomon, who told his son, "Be wise, my son, and bring joy to my heart" (Proverbs 27:11), the parent in this phase must hope, pray and wait.

Each phase has its own challenges, but phase four can be the most difficult because it requires letting go. For nearly two decades, the parent has been the child's commander, coach or counselor, but trying to prolong any of those roles will invite resistance and perhaps even resentment.

As I did in the other phases, I found a phrase that has helped my interactions with my children: "Let me know if I can help." It allowed me to affirm my availability while respecting my children's independence.

You'll find that the phases of parenthood aren't entirely measurable or scientific. The phases overlap each other; one phase begins long before the previous phase passes completely. And different children will demand differing degrees of flexibility in moving from one phase to the next.

But overall, I found that just a little attention to my current (and coming) phases produced a healthy perspective on my task as parent.

This article first appeared in the June, 2007 issue of Focus on the Family magazine. Copyright © 2007 Bob Hostetler. All rights reserved.