There is no other news but 9 news when it comes to news in Colorado. I watch for the beautiful anchors, the awkward flirting between Kathy Sabine and Bob Kendrick, that zany Kirk Montgomery and the beautiful, somewhat too perfect, Bazi Kanani…oh and the really good news reporting too. I could write a whole blog post about the soap opera world of 9 news, but that is not what this post is about. This post is about bringing some much needed awareness to a problem I like to call “The Arakawa Mullet”. Since 1993 I have watched Adele bring me the news with grace and dignity, but time has passed, things have progressed, but somehow her hair has stayed the same.
I love your sophisticated way of delivering the evening news. I respect your opinion and laugh at your witty remarks during the “fluff” pieces. I know you are smarter than that silly Bob Kendrick or that brontosaurus-guy from the political segments. You have been around a long time and I am certain that KUSA must pay you some serious cash, so please, would you please, get a new hairstyle? I had a friend visit from out of state, he doesn’t know how great you are and all he would do was make fun of your hockey-hair and mock the way your bangs protrude 7 inches off your forehead, so your first impression is seriously suffering. Please, listen to the cries all around Denver asking for you to cut that mullet. Cut it short, start again. Try something new. Maybe even some hair extensions or a cute bob. Anything, Adele. Listen, we can meet at your favorite place Mark told me about, that Mexican restaurant El Parral. I will bring hair magazines and we will find you a perfect new look. You should invite Kirk, he seems like he could have some good input on hair…and shoes.
Dustin and I were at dinner with our friend Chris the other night and Chris mentioned a great thought on his walk with Jesus as being “fire or water”. Since last week I have thought a lot about this idea. It brings certain images or word pictures to my mind and really challenged me to look at the place I am currently in.
Fire. I know what fire feels like. I remember the first time I ever felt real fire in my heart. I consider it the time that I really received Christ into my life. I was in Jr High and all I wanted was to know Jesus. I finally understood after years of Kid’s Church who this Jesus was and the fact that he died for me. I remember wearing T-shirts that said “girl for God” and listening to Delirious: King of Fools over and over. I just simply loved Jesus. I loved Him so much. Those were such sweet, simple, innocent years. High School had not crept in yet, everything was fun and easy. There was a passion that was new and so precious. Jesus and I both look at that time with such fondness. I have had fire since then, here and there. Times of passion and power, but none as poignant as those first years.
Water. I am currently in water. Some days I feel sick from bobbing up and down, other days I feel like I might be going under or being swept out to sea. There are days when waves of hope and joy wash over me cleaning me from resentment and fear. But I don’t have fire. Can the two co exist? I don’t know. The water I am in is deep, I look down and see dark figures from my past just beneath the surface. I can’t quite make them out, but I know the Holy Spirit is calling me to be brave, to open my eyes and look. To be set free. As ominous as this scenario sounds, I feel such a peace. I know that I am not alone. I feel Jesus just as close to me now as I did in the times of Fire and I know that what He has promised me will be mine.
I was taught faith in the fire to make it through the water, and when my time of fire comes again I will be ready.
In my profession as a Children’s Pastor I occasionally search for puppet skits online. The other day I came across the worst puppet skit ever written. At first it may not seem very bad to you, but believe me when the script has the phrase “devilish” actually written in it you know you have found a stinker, and this (as John McCain would say) “My friends” is a stinker.
Please be so kind to read then take the poll at the end.
THE SCENE IS A SCHOOL PLAYGROUND. A BASKETBALL HOOP MAKES A GOOD BACKGROUND PROP. TWO BOY PUPPETS, MR. STEAK AND MR. CHICKEN ARE FIGHTING OVER THE BASKETBALL. MR. STEAK FINALLY PULLS THE BALL AWAY FROM MR. CHICKEN. MR. CHICKEN That's not fair! It was my turn to make a basket! MR. STEAK Even if it was your turn, you never make it through the hoop. You're the worst basketball player ever! MR. CHICKEN I'm going to tell Mrs. Potato that you're being a mean...and you're very, very, very devilish! MR. STEAK Mrs. Potato won't believe you because I'm her favorite student and you're nothing but a wimpy loser. You're weak and thin and the girls all laugh at your poor hygiene. Go ahead and tell everybody how I was mean to you! I'll be a hero! Mrs. Potato sneaks up behind Mr. Steak and hits him with a stick over the head. Mr. Steak is knocked out and Mr. Chicken grabs the basketball. MRS. POTATO I heard what Mr. Steak was saying about you and you shouldn't believe a word of it. No matter what your physical attributes, Jesus loves you very much and He will always be there for you. Mr. Steak wakes up and rubs his head. Mrs. Potato, once again, knocks him out with the stick. MR. CHICKEN But doesn't Jesus know how wimpy I am? Doesn't He know that I lie to my parents about brushing my teeth? MRS. POTATO Jesus knows all about your physical inadequacies and He doesn't care! Don't you know that Jesus paid special attention to special people like you? MRS. POTATO That's the great thing about Jesus! MR. CHICKEN Then I love Jesus and accept Him into my heart as my Savior! Mr. Steak gets up and cowers in front of the stick-wielding Mrs. Potato. Mrs. Potato takes the basketball away from Mr. Chicken and gives it back to Mr. Steak. MRS. POTATO Here you go, Mr. Steak. You need to concentrate more on sports and less on being devilish to your friends. MR. CHICKEN But I wanted to shoot baskets! MRS. POTATO Your talents lie elsewhere, young Mr. Chicken. Come with me and we'll talk about what it's like in Heaven. MR. STEAK Thank you, Mrs. Potato! I learned a lesson today that even though I'm physically better off than Mr. Chicken will ever be, that Jesus loves us all! MRS. POTATO Go shoot some baskets, you rascal! You're still my favorite student, even though you need a little discipline now and then! MR. CHICKEN Don't I need discipline too, Mrs. Potato? MRS. POTATO No, little Mr. Chicken, you are far too frail and weak. You're no threat to any one or any thing. Mrs. Potato and Mr. Chicken exit the stage. Mr. Steak shoots a basket and the ball goes in perfectly.
A couple of things to consider before taking the poll:
The names of the characters are Chicken and Steak. What the heck?
Apparently Mr. Chicken is a loser and even the abusive teacher thinks so.
The script says that the “ball goes in perfectly”. What kind of fancy puppets do they have that can use their hands and shoot baskets?
CALL+RESPONSE is a feature length documentary film that takes viewers deep undercover where slavery is thriving — from the child brothels of Cambodia to the slave brick kilns of rural India — and reveals that in 2007,
Slave Traders made more money than Google, Nike and Starbucks combined.
This is the first “rockumentary” on the issue, and all the money earned will go towards funding field projects to address forms of trafficking.
The film’s popularity in its opening week will determine the length of its screening schedule and its potential to reach a broader audience. To maximize its viability and ensure it is shown in the most theaters possible, film makers encourage you to buy tickets online. Check to see if it’s opening in your city.
Join me and Dustin this Thursday, Oct. 16th @7:05 @ The Starz Film Center.
Email me is you are interested in going: KateG@mhmin.org
I am having a hard time writing on my blog as of late. There are so many things that are heavy on my heart and unfortunately are too personal to type into a blog for just any ol person to read and know about me and possibly blackmail me with. When things are on a girls mind it is impossible to switch them off and move on to other things. They just sit and simmer, waiting for some kind of change, some kind of breakthrough and a hope for some control. I think that until some of these boiling pots in my life cool down I won’t be able to just post the same old silly stuff as I usually do. Until that time here is a poem about fall, by me.
Yellow leaves, sleepy bees
Orange and red trees
Blankets, cheese and kisses
Blue above, grey deep down
Animals, walks, and adventures with you
When to say no, when to say yes, let go and find joy
Eye lashes, pink cheeks, and a plum scarf on a windy day
Babies, weddings, prescriptions, promises, needing You
Inspire assurance in what I hope for, and give me room to breathe.
My friend Mark blogged about recently watching “I Am Sam” and crying like a baby. The movie is ridiculously depressing, and as I said to Mark, I will say again- I hate movies and music that are purposefully depressing, it feels manipulative to me. Sean Penn may be a retard, but technically he is not mentally handicapped, but somehow you watch that movie and it makes you want to just die.
I knew girls in high school that loved to cry. They would intentionally watch something or listen to something just to cry. Either as a group of girls crying in a soggy huddle or alone in their room staring in the mirror crying and thinking “This is me crying. This is what I look like when I cry” while listening to Everybody Hurts by R.E.M.
Ok, so maybe I was the one crying and looking in the mirror, but I have grown out of that phase and I refuse to watch or listen to things that are only trying to push my cry button with fake, sad scenarios. I don’t mind true stories and I do cry when I hear horrible things on the news, and I feel no shame in that.
While I’m on it, don’t even get me started on the crying girl from American Idol.