The Latest Update

Lots has been going on, but even more is to come. Isn’t that, in a nutshell, everyone’s life? That said, we’re finally beginning to get settled into a rough semblance of normalcy.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading of late. I read George Barna’s “Revolution” which was very informative. I read David Koenig’s “Mouse Under Glass” and am almost through his “Mouse Tales: A Behind-The-Ears Look At Disneyland,” both of which have been enlightening. I’m also part-way through Dave Duncan’s final Kings Blades novel, “Jaguar Knights,” which is just as entertaining as the previous five.

I’m writing steadily again, making progress on my angels and demons contemporary fantasy as well as quickly bringing to a close my long-gestating “Zooming Through Life” nonfiction piece.

In April, Lori and I took Melody to Disneyland for her birthday. Then we took her again in May for my birthday. This time, Melody finally “got it.” She met Snow White and she drove an Autopia car and she road the train and went on Roger Rabbit’s Cartoon Spin. She loved it and asked to go again frequently the following day. Lori and I have come to the decision that the next trip should be just us so we’ll leave Melody with either Lori’s mom or mine and hit the park again in June (right before the summer rush hits) and we’ll ride all of the things that we don’t take Melody on.

Then there’s the secret venture that has Lori and I very excited. We’ve been working toward it for many years, both of us in some ways even before we met. It’s something that would allow the both of us to operate in the gifts and callings that God’s given us and the idea of it is exciting. And the excitement is contagious.

But I can’t say any more about it at this time. Perhaps next time.

Until then.

What I'm Reading: DisneyWar

I haven’t posted anything here for a long time, it seems. Indeed, I’ve felt that I should post my entry about Lori’s dad before I get back to normal blogging.

That said, I want Lori to go over and “approve” what I have to say about her dad and get her agreement that it honors him. So, that said, the entry about her dad, Ray Hedgpeth, will have to wait a little longer.

However, I would like to get back to making entries about what I am reading, especially since I've got something to chirp about now.

For the past week or so, I’ve been reading “DisneyWar” by James B. Stewart. This book is so fascinating! I know it’s been around for awhile but with the move and everything that’s happened, I hadn’t got around to it until late February. Like similar books that have come before it (“Storming the Magic Kingdom,” “The Disney Touch,” “Keys to the Magic Kingdom” – all of which I’ve read), “DisneyWar” turns the spotlight behind the scenes at The Walt Disney Company. But this time it takes us right up to the end of the Eisner era. And the book does an exceptional job of laying the groundwork for the recent Disney/Pixar acquisition. It’s almost as if the author knew what was coming.

And perhaps he did.

Anyway, if you love Disney (as I do) and/or the machinations of behind-the-scenes Hollywood, you’ll dig this book.

Now I can’t wait for the one that chronicles the whole Disney/Pixar affair.

Settling In

Well, here we are at the beginning of February.

Over the Christmas break, Lori’s dad unexpectedly passed away and we’ve been dealing with that for the past month or so. So, over the course of five months, Lori and I lost my dad and then her dad. It’s a lot to work through, especially with the cross-state move and looking for work.

More on Lori’s dad in another post.

So in early January we moved out of Lori’s parent’s house and into our own place close to downtown Long Beach. That was an important issue for us when we started looking because in January, The Designory, an upscale ad and multimedia agency on Ocean Blvd. in downtown Long Beach brought me on fulltime in their interactive department. So now, even though we’re in Southern California, I have only a seven-minute commute to and from work.

So we’re settling in. The house is taking shape and starting to seem like a home. And we’re starting to do things again with friends.

And hopefully, I’ll start writing again soon. I’ve been on hiatus for too long (since August).

10 Months of Melody

Oh yeah, we put up selected pictures from the last ten months of Melody's life this past weekend.

Check out how adorable our little daughter is!

Even when things aren't so great, they're pretty good.

He Works Hard For The Money

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted to this blog. That’s because not much has changed over the past two months. I continue to look for fulltime work and we continue to stay with Lori’s parents. It’s not an ideal situation but it is what it is and there’s little I can do about it until I find fulltime permanent employment as an Art Director, Web Designer or Senior Graphic Designer.

There have been some nibbles though. I’ve interviewed a few times and I even thought I had one or two positions sewn up… and I’m waiting to hear back from at least one more. I’m praying for that to come through. But pickins are lean. I don’t know if it’s the holidays or if potential employers don’t know what to make of me (since I’m equal parts print designer and equal parts web designer).

In the meantime, I’ve signed up with an agency called Creative Focus. They send me out on occasional onsite freelance jobs. I’ve worked a few assignments for them over the course of the past two months, most notably the work I’m doing at The Designory in Downtown Long Beach. Today I got my own parking card and I’m now listed in the employee directory as Freelance Computer Production Artist.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

But I’m not above production work. I almost always end up doing most of my own production anyway so it’s no big deal. And it does bring home the bacon. At least some of the bacon. It’s not permanent though. This time out, it’s for a two week stint in their interactive department.

So, in my spare time, I continue to look for fulltime permanent employment. Which means, my future employer is presumably looking for me.

I sure wish he or she would hurry up.

Here We Are

Well here we are.

Sunny California.

Long Beach.

Or as Lori would say, "Home."

I must say that I share her sentiments on some level. I liked Colorado but there is something nostalgic about coming home.

The grave stone is in at my dad's grave site. It looks about right. Wish it were someone else's name on it though.

So we've been here for about a week now and we've had something to do every day... opening a new bank account, unloading the truck into the storage unit, researching neighborhoods, picking up Disneyland passes. Well, some things are more important than others. You judge. Not to mention looking for work, which is the prerequisite for getting a house or apartment. It's my highest priority. I must have applied for thirty different positions now through Monster.com, HotJobs.com and Adweek.com.

So here we are.

We're sharing Lori's parents house for the time being, which isn't as unpleasant as it could be. Thankfully, we all get along. But I've been on my own for a long time, so it's quite an adjustment.

Yesterday we started our running again. We picked up a jogging stroller so we could take Melody with us. Running without the altitude makes quite a difference. I also noticed that the Mustang has a lot more get up and go than it did in Colorado Springs. That's cool!

I can't believe what they've done to Signal Hill. Two million dollar homes up there now! I remember when it was the gang hang out complete with dirt roads and it's own inspiration point. Now you can't even get to the top unless you live in one of the gated communities. Some developer somewhere is a genius.

Yet here we are.

If you're reading this and you know anyone in Southern California who's looking for an Art Director, Web Designer or Senior Graphic Designer, have them shoot me an e-mail at writeme@paulcarhart.com.

I promise to be the best employee they've ever had.

Until I get work though, here we are.

Tick Tock

So, I put in my two-week notice on September 8.

I’ll say one thing: It’s good to be organized.

By the end of last week, my website duties had been transferred to one of my Creative Services colleagues and my catalog duties had been delivered to another. My music products ad duties have also been passed off to a new guy in the music products division. I’m finishing up a couple smaller projects this week and on Wednesday I’ll be packing up my desk and heading for parts unknown.

Well, not completely unknown.

I’m no stranger to packing and moving. Seems like I move every couple years or so. We really wanted to stay in our house for a long time when we bought it but we’ve decided to go to California. Essentially, we’ve chosen family over “stuff.” We started serious packing this past weekend and will continue it through this week and over next weekend.

We do have a couple music ministry loose ends to tie up. On Sunday the 25th, Lori and I will lead worship at Grace Be Unto You Outreach Church for the last time. It’ll be the last hurrah and we’ll have almost every musician in the church on stage with us for the send-off. That should be interesting. Lori and I play off of each other almost subconsciously but I’ll have to really work at giving directions to the others, which isn’t easy to do with both hands playing bass. But I’m sure it will work out. They’ll just have to pay attention.

Then on Monday the 26th, we’ll lead worship at the Springs Rescue Mission for the last time. On the 27th, Lori’s parents arrive to help with the move. On the 29th we pick up the truck and load it. On the 30th, we hit the road.

So now is the time for packing and staging everything in the garage.

It is indeed good to be organized.

And time is ticking.

California here I come. Right back where I started from...

Brain Drain

It's about 5:30 in the morning. I've been up since 2:30.

My head is swimming with so many things to do.

I put in my two week notice today at work. Okay. It was technically yesterday.

We're going to California in roughly three weeks. This time, we're not coming back to Colorado. In many ways, it's sad. But in other ways... well, we're coming home.

But it's a big undertaking. A grand adventure. Quitting a job. Selling a house. Moving across country. Staying with family. Aquiring new jobs. Getting a new home. Any of those things alone would be enough weight on the shoulders. We're doing all of it at once, barely a month after losing my dad.

To say I'm feeling stressed would be an understatement.

After all, I'm the husband. I'm the dad. It's all my responsibility.

So, while I was tired enough to go to sleep at 10:30 last night (after reading a chapter of pure escapism in my Star Wars novel), it was my turn to feed Melody if she needed it (Lori's teaching tomorrow, okay today).

Melody got up at 2:30.

When I laid back down after feeding and changing her, I couldn't stop thinking about what all needs to be done. Schedule the truck. Airline tickets for the in-laws (so they can help with the move). Packing everything (and therefore aquiring the needed boxes). Securing a car trailer for the Mustang. The list goes on.

So I tried to shift mental gears. Suddenly I'm thinking about work. What I need to do for the Westone website so there'll be a smooth transition. Who will I turn it over to and the politics that come with that. What about all the advertising for the music products division? Someone's got to pick that up. And I need to pass that contact info on to all of the magazines. I have my ideas about the best course of action but, after all, I'm not going to be there anymore so who cares what I think. I pick up so many pieces on a daily basis that no one even knows about. The fact is though that I need to start showing somebody all of the stuff I do every day so things won't fall through the cracks. After all, not every art director has another art director on staff to sweat the details. Some people are going to have to step up and start looking at the details. Or else they'll find themselves in over their head even more than they are now.

But what do I care? September 21 is my last day. It's not my problem after that.

And yet I do care.

Which is why I'm not asleep.

After stressing over both my personal and professional life for an hour in bed with my eyes wide open, I decided to get my mind off of it. I had a few episodes of the new Battlestar Galactica that I hadn't seen yet so I took them downstairs and watched two of them.

Just when I thought I was tired enough to hit the hay again, Melody started crying. So I had to coddle her back to sleep before I could lay back down.

By that point, my mind was back on everything that's going on... or needs to go on.

So now I'm up writing this. After all, this blog is more therapy than anything else. I should probably be working on my novel though.

In a half hour, Lori will be up... getting ready for work.

I hope she slept well.

What I’m Reading: Goal, Motivation, Conflict

Been meaning to read “Goal, Motivation, Conflict” by Debra Dixon for a long time. Finished it this morning. It breaks down, you guessed it, character goals, motivations and conflicts into a very simple chart so you can let character decisions drive the plot of your story.

Although it’s perhaps a little on the analytical side, the book makes some good points. If used correctly, it would force me to really look at what’s driving my story before I ever type word one. It also has a great little section on using GMC to deconstruct the story into a quick little logline that can be used when pitching to editors and/or agents (or regaling your dinner guests with your latest literary masterpiece).

All in all, a good read.

Now I’ve picked up “The Evolution Conspiracy” by Caryl Matrisciana and Roger Oakland, which I expect to be similar to a book I read a few weeks ago (see previous "What I'm Reading" posts). This one, however, purports that there is a hidden agenda to deceive mankind regarding evolution and creationism. It was published in 1991. At some point I bought it and, once again, never read it. Anyway, I don’t know if I buy the whole conspiracy aspect of evolution, but maybe the book will change my mind.

I’ll let you know.

What I’m Reading: Roaring Lambs

Okay. I did quite a bit of reading while we were in California. I went entirely through a book on "cherished American myths and fables" (I don't remember the exact name but there's tons of similar books out there). Very interesting what we’re willing to believe and what was, in fact, truth.

I read the myths book mostly as diversion. It was a quick read and easily jumped into and out of. It was also completely shallow.

So I picked up “Roaring Lambs.” I had actually purchased this book years ago because it seemed like something I could sink my teeth in to. But I had never had a chance to read it.

The book is by Bob Briner, who has since left us. It’s basically his manifesto on how Christians can change the world through the arts, an area that Christians and churches have basically abdicated, leaving “the world” to dominate in movies, film, writing, music, and the visual arts. Rather than boycott these things when they postulate non-Christian values, Briner’s solution is to offer up something that’s just as good that glorifies God. He proposes that lighting even one candle is better than cursing the darkness. To that end, he espouses the need for Christian writers and artists operating in mainstream America. Each chapter covers a different area of the arts and in this way it the book starts getting repetitive. His solutions are the same for every area, we need more Christians doing these things.

Still, overall, I like the book. Not in the same ways that I like Eldredge’s “Wild At Heart” or “Waking The Dead” (it’s not all that deep) but it’s solid reasoning and he’s saying things I’ve said for years. If you agree with the sentiments in the above paragraph, you might want to pick up “Roaring Lambs.”

Or maybe I just like to find folks who agree with me, even if they’re no longer with us.

Perhaps I’m the only one saying these things anymore.

Let’s hope not folks.

And The Walls Came Tumbling Down

On Friday last week, once work was over and everything became still, I finally turned my thoughts to what I had been through over the past month or so.

Thoughts about my mom and dad flooded back over me and I found myself laying in bed bawling, Lori holding me while I sobbed.

That continued for an hour or so and then I started to chill. Literally. A fever set in. I took a hot shower but I couldn’t seem to get warm enough. Lori gave me some medicine and ended up taking care of me for the rest of the weekend.

Finally, on Sunday (we had to skip church), I got over most of it. I did, however, have some difficulty swallowing until yesterday.

When I got up for work on Monday morning, Lori had the same thing I had. I don’t have a lot of vacation days left at work so I had to take care of her at lunch. When I got home from work, I sent her straight to bed and took care of Melody myself. Thankfully, Lori was well enough on Tuesday to take care of Melody during the day but she wasn’t really “all better” until yesterday.

All this just goes to show what can happen to you if you go full steam ahead for too long without taking care of yourself.

So, take care of yourselves.

Thanks.

Remembering Mike Carhart

July 24, 1939 – August 7, 2005

"Your hero should always be tall, you know."

– Mike Carhart, 1958

It’s been longer than I would have liked since I posted to this blog. Moreover, I wish it were happier circumstances that had kept me away. Instead, a complicated set of events transpired that included my dad passing away, getting the family out to California and not only attending his funeral but helping with the planning and speaking at the service.

Only now am I even approaching recovery.

So, before the whole thing turns into a blur, I wanted to document this time.

My dad had been fighting a rare case of cancer that had attacked him in his jaw. The prescribed treatment included cutting open his face, grinding out part of his jaw and grafting bone from his leg into his jaw. This surgery was followed by radiation treatment, which was meant to finish off the cancer.

At first it had seemed successful. But the cancer came back. The wound on his face from the surgery, to my knowledge, never really healed and he found himself back in and out of the hospital over the course of a year. This past summer, he started chemo.

On July 13, he tried to stand and could not. My mom and brother-in-law called the paramedics and he went to the hospital. He was diagnosed with some big sounding name that basically meant his muscles had become mushy. They put him in a nursing facility to allow him to get stronger before his next chemo treatment.

A week or two later, his heart rate was down to 40 and he was sent back to the hospital, this time into ICU. It was determined that the chemo wasn’t working and that they were not going to continue the treatment. On Friday night, August 5, my sister called me with the news that the doctors had given my dad two weeks to two months to live.

All along, my dad had wanted to be kept in the loop. He didn’t want people talking behind his back or lying to him. So my sister told my dad the prognosis.

The next day, the nurses were unable to wake him. He had slipped into a coma. Lori and I started packing our suitcases. On Sunday morning, August 7, just as we were loading up the car, my sister called with the news that my dad had passed away.

Other than the fact that I didn’t get to see my dad before he passed away, it really didn’t change anything. We put Melody in the car seat, loaded up the back and made the drive from Colorado Springs to Long Beach, California in record time (we left on Sunday around 3 pm and arrived around 8 pm on Monday). When we arrived, Jim and Cheryl (one of my brothers and my sister) showed me pictures they’d found and things he had written in the hospital room. Chief among them was his will. Although probably not legally binding, this simple piece of paper attached to a clipboard detailed what he wanted his best friend to have and to divide up his knife and gun collection among his children. It was signed “James Carhart.” No one will dispute its authenticity. He knew his time was up. He had made his peace.

The next day, we were meeting with Jeb at Forest Lawn.

Things move quickly with funerals. So quickly that you never really have a chance to take stock of what has occurred until well after your loved one is in the ground.

The funeral was Friday, August 12, at noon. We thought that high noon was fitting for someone who loved the Old West as much as my dad did. Dad’s best friend, Allen Gonzales, picked out his favorite cowboy attire, including his hat, to have him dressed in.

Many of us decided to put something in the casket with him. Before he had gone in the hospital (and had been so heavily medicated), I had sent my dad a personalized copy of "One of the Girls," my latest book. Unfortunately, due to the medication, he never read it. It was that book, with the inscription, “Dad, hope you enjoy it,” that I had put into his casket.

Note that I said I had it "put into his casket." I, perhaps selfishly, chose not to view his body. Instead, I want to remember him playing catch with me in the street... or riding motorcycles together... or playing ping-pong with me after school... or drawing pictures for me after dinner... or working on my truck with me... or any other memory I have of him while he was with us. So Allen -- or maybe Jim -- put it in the casket for me. I don't know. I wasn't there.

Before the funeral, Pastor Nick Kerns (my mom’s pastor) told me that he had spoke with my dad about Jesus and they had prayed together. He assured me that my dad had come to the Lord. It was a great comfort to me. It is one thing to know that he no longer has to live with the pain he had been suffering. To know that he will live forever and that I’ll seem him again was a blessing.

At the funeral chapel service, my sister Cheryl sang. It fell to me, perhaps because I am the writer in the family or perhaps because I am the oldest sibling, to present a sort of chronology of milestones in my dad’s life. I present that chronology now.

James Micheal Carhart was born to Paul William and Vonnie Leona Carhart in Mt. Vernon, Ohio on July 24, 1939. Since a very early age, he was known as Mike and he was always tall.

The Carhart family lived in Millwood, Ohio where Mike spent his childhood with his older sister, Carol.

Mike exhibited artistic abilities at a young age. He would also watch the serials at the local movie theater. His hero was John Wayne.

Mike attended Howard High School where he participated in both sports and the arts. He played baseball, basketball and was involved in chorus and drama. In his freshman year, he was the football manager. He was also on student council for two years and was on the yearbook staff. He graduated in 1958.

In 1959, Mike came to California with two high school friends. He attended Imperial Valley College in El Centro for two years.

In 1961 Mike moved to Long Beach, California and took a job at Pacific Valves where he played on the company basketball and baseball teams. It was with this company, now part of Crane Valve, that he continued to support his family until he retired in 2004. Nearly 43 years!

Mike worked with Jack Bridges. One day Jack showed Mike a picture that had his wife’s sister, Bobbie Fredricks in it. Bobbie had just come out from Kentucky and Mike was determined to meet her.

Mike was confident to show up at the Bridges house alone (with no support), while they were moving nonetheless, to meet Bobbie. Upon his arrival, she thought he was “strikingly handsome.”

For their first date, Mike took Bobbie to the Lions Drag Strip in Long Beach.

About a week later, Mike took Bobbie to El Patio. It was her first experience with Mexican food. The restaurant was a family staple until it closed in 2003.

It was around this time that Mike purchased a blue 1965 Pontiac GTO and had it customized to his liking. It was his favorite car. Selling it was perhaps his only regret. Indeed, the GTO and pictures he took of it was a popular topic of conversation for the rest of his life.

On November 20, 1965, Mike and Bobbie were married at The Little Chapel of the Flowers in Las Vegas, Nevada. At the time of his passing, they had been married for almost 40 years.

In early 1966, they bought their first house at 3349 Gondar in Long Beach.

On May 19, 1968, Mike and Bobbie gave birth to their first son, Paul Michael Carhart (named after Mike’s father as well as Mike).

Bobbie had a dream one night that Paul had run into the street and had been killed by a car. So Mike built a white picket fence around the yard. Bobbie, clad in a bikini, helped to paint it.

On March 21, 1970, Mike and Bobbie welcomed James Alan Carhart into the world (again, named partially for Mike).

In 1973, on July 13, the family welcomed their only daughter (Cheryl Ann) into the world.

The house on Gondar was now full so the family moved to a larger house at 3123 San Anseline in Long Beach. Although extensively altered, it is still the family residence.

In 1975, the family welcomed Brian Matthew into the world.

Growing up, the Carhart children were treated to John Wayne movies at home, Disney films at the drive-in, after-dinner time with Mike drawing cartoons for the children and summer weekends riding motorcycles and shooting cans in the dessert. The years were also peppered with occasional visits to Disneyland and summer road trips back east to visit family.

Although Mike always made a distinction from his daily job and his creative pursuits, he passed on many artistic traits to his children. He was proud of their accomplishments.

Mike was good with his hands. He would make necklaces and carve trinkets for his children and was good at fixing things. Mike would often scour garage sales for used guns and pick up bicycle parts. Mike started building bicycles from scratch. All the kids in the neighborhood would come to the Carhart house to ride the bikes that Mike built.

Throughout his life, Mike loved the time of the Old West and he studied it extensively.

One of his favorite things to do was to frequent the gun shows. Mike’s trademark cowboy hat could often be found towering over the aisles. He collected knives and guns and crafted his own custom pistol handles, knife handles and leather goods.

Mike loved racing. In November, 2003, before he fell ill, he delighted in fulfilling a lifelong dream of driving a NASCAR by completing the Racing Adventure 2 program with his son-in-law, Joe Benitez, at Mesa Marin Raceway in Bakersfield, California.

Today, Mike is survived by his wife, all of his children and two grandchildren (Violet Benitez and Melody Carhart).

Over the years, Mike shared his love of all-things-western with a few select friends. His longest friendship was with Allen Gonzales.

That’s when Allen came up, dressed in full cowboy regalia, and shared his friendship with my dad. After a brief message from the pastor, it was time to go outside.

The pallbearers consisted of myself, my brother Jim, my brother Brian, my brother-in-law Joe, Allen and Bill Reynolds (another of my dad’s friends). With the help of a cart, we took my dad’s casket out to the grave site. We had a short graveside service where Bill spoke briefly.

After the service, there was what I can only call a reception (it wasn’t exactly a wake) at my brother Jim’s house where he had set up photo albums, a book of my dad’s drawings as well as some of his favorite guns and western wear. It was a fitting tribute.

Then we made the journey back.

Melody didn’t take well to the road. The drive was replete with scowls from the back seat. When we got home, she ran around the living room and then hugged Lori’s legs. As for Lori (who has stood by my side the whole time) and I, we are both emotionally, mentally and physically drained.

And yet, life goes on.

Groceries must be bought. Paychecks must be earned. And time with family, more relevant to me now than ever, must not be squandered.

I would like to take just a moment to thank everyone who sent a card, an e-mail or called us on the phone as well as everyone who has offered their thoughts and prayers both to my dad while he was in the hospital as well as to my family. We appreciate your support.

But, sad as it is that we all go, I know my dad would have rather that we buried him than he had to bury any of his kids. Children should outlive their parents. So, although his time perhaps came too soon and I will miss my dad, things are, at least in this one way, as they should be.

Now Available: One of the Girls

Okay. This is perhaps a little self-serving. However, I thought I’d just put up a quick little note that my new young adult superhero fantasy novel, One of the Girls, is now available in limited distribution from my website: paulcarhart.com.

What? You want to know what it's about before you buy it? Very well. The blurb from the back of the book:

When sixteen-year-old Jana Swain discovers flying rocks coming to her rescue while fleeing bullies after school,she knows her life has changed forever. But she could have never guessed what would come next. With the help of her popular cheerleader twin sister Jeni, her comic book-obsessed younger brother and her neighbors from across the street, Jana seeks to get to the bottom of her strange encounter. What she discovers is that she's somehow received, in her brother's words, "super hero powers." She can move things with her mind!

With coaching from her siblings, Jana reluctantly takes the guise of PsyChick™,haphazardly using her abilities to fight crime. But she's in over her head and only her sister has what it takes to rescue the hero.

Indeed, powers or not, only by acting together can Jana and Jeni become the hero that neither could have been as long as they both emained merely one of the girls.

If you order the book from paulcarhart.com, I’ll sign it and personalize it for anyone you want (it doesn't have to be for you). The ordering process is through PayPal and there is a personalization field in the ordering process (so please use it). The price ($12.50) includes U.S. shipping.

So check out my latest novel before it goes into wide release and get it signed and personalized while you’re at it.

As always, thanks for your support!

What I’m Reading 2

Moved on from “Faith, Form, And Time,” which made some pretty good points about why the theory of evolution is actually not the way the earth was created. When it’s all said and done, I'm not sure it really matters a whole lot but it was interesting nevertheless. And I do have an idea for a story in which the Young Age Creationism theories from that book could come into play... but that’ll have to wait until I finish the current novel I’m writing.

In the meantime, I’ve moved on to "The Search For Significance" by Robert S. McGee. I read it once about ten years ago (it was recommended by my pastor at the time) and found it to be great. But I’m in a different place now (married with child) so I thought I’d approach it again and see if I've grown any.

The tagline to the title is "We can build our self-worth on our ability to please others, or on the love and forgiveness of Jesus Christ." It’s a pretty brisk read and it makes a lot of sense. The copy I'm reading has a 1990 copyright on it but I know a new edition was put out in 2003. If you’re self-worth is defined by a combination of your performance and other people’s opinions (and let’s face it, most of us have fallen into this trap at some point), I encourage you to give the book a read.

Of course all this nonfiction I’ve been reading has been taking a toll on my fiction reading.

But more on that another time.

Venting

What better need for a vent than excessive amounts of smoke?

Okay. So we went to the drive-in on Friday night. Both films were good in different ways and we enjoyed the family time together.

But…

You knew there was a “but” in there, didn’t you?

What’s up with these people who must smoke in public? And I’m not just talking about one cigarette. I’m talking about the constant chain of multiple people lighting up.

Last week I was all excited to go to the drive-in and I encouraged the rest of you to join me. Now I suggest, if you go, you may want to bring a gas mask.

To our right was pick-up truck backed in for optimal viewing from the truck bed. There were probably eight people in this truck and at least three of them were lit up at any given time. Despite the fact that it was an extremely hot night in Pueblo, I spent most of both films with my window up. And it was a good thing too because, for some reason, whoever the driver was had decided to go to the movies but spend the entire time in the front seat on the cellphone with the window down. And he was even in a bigger cloud of smoke. He was like Pig-Pen from the Peanuts cartoons. I wish I were exagerating.

When I made a comment about it between films, Lori tells me that it’s been the same way on her side. To punctuate her remark, the guy in the car over there starts coughing up a lung. And the amazing thing is that he continued to take long drags from his cigarette… the only time, I might add , that he wasn’t coughing.

And his wife, in complete solidarity with him, was toking out too. Now that's love! I guess she didn’t like the idea of him dying first so she’s just going to “stand by her man” and they’ll go out together like one big Viking funeral pyre. Wait 'til the gas tank ignites!

Anyway, this coupled with how beat we were all day on the Saturday following will probably contribute to this being our last drive-in trip. It was fun while it lasted but I don’t smoke. Lori doesn’t smoke. We don’t want to smoke. And we don’t want Melody to have to breathe it either.

Guess it’s time to join Netflix.

An Old-Fashioned Family Tradition

When is the last time you’ve been to the drive-in theater?

For me it’s been only a month or so. And we’re going again tonight.

You see, in Colorado, there are still a few drive-ins. If you’re in Colorado, you can check out what you’re missing by visiting Carload.com. The site lists the drive-ins in Colorado that remain open and what’s playing.

So tonight we’re driving to the Mesa Drive-In in Pueblo where we’re gonna check out a chick movie for Lori ("Must Love Dogs") as well as a little something for me ("Charlie and the Chocolate Factory") all for pretty much the price of one movie.

Just like when I was a kid and my family would pile into our car, we’re gonna pop up popcorn ahead of time and bring a cooler of drinks (and maybe some candy bars) and, between 8:45 and 9:00 (when the first movie starts), we’re gonna watch the a couple movies through our windshield and forget about the outside world... at least until I have to drive us all home (around 2:00 am).

Truth be told, this is pretty much the only way we’ve been able to go to the movies since we’ve had Melody. It works out well too. Melody will watch the first movie from the car seat in the back seat (we reposition her in the center so she can see) and Lori and I can hold hands during the show. We get out of the house and have a little fun too. And Melody is usually asleep before the second movie starts.

And in case you were wondering, the days of the tinny old speakers with the crackling sound are gone. Now you tune your car stereo into an FM radio frequency for probably better sound than I get in my living room. Pretty cool!

You should try it sometime. Maybe these icons of American culture will make a nostalgic comeback someday.

Anyway, that’s what we’re doing tonight and I’m looking forward to it.

Have a great weekend!

Exploring The Realm

On Saturday, I took Lori and Melody to the Colorado Renaissance Festival in Larkspur (next weekend is the last for the year). It’s pretty cool (if not historically accurate). The buildings are permanent, unlike many of the tent encampments I’ve visited at California fairs. There’s also a lot of stuff for kids to do. It’s not Disneyland, but it’s maybe the closest thing to Fantasyland I’ll find in Colorado.

This weekend featured the Scottish and Irish theme so, with Irish on Lori’s side of the family (Lori’s mother’s maiden name is Sloan) and Scottish on my side (my dad’s mother’s maiden name is Gadd which supposedly came through Scotland at some point, probably on its way to somewhere else), we thought it would be a great opportunity for a little fun.

First off, it was very hot on Saturday. We realized this as we stepped out of the Escape into the dusty parking lot. Still, there was a little bit of a breeze so we piled a couple sodas and a water bottle into Melody’s stroller and trudged down the road to the two spires sticking above the distant tree line.

Now, they’ve got a couple of free shuttles that guests can use to make the trek to the front gates a little easier but, with Melody, the stroller and various other paraphernalia related to our daughter and/or our own comfort, I opted to forgo the sardine experience and just walk.

By the time we got the gates, we were famished. But we had bought the tickets ahead of time so we didn’t have to stand in that line. We handed our tickets to the costumed girl with the really fake British accent and went straight on through… to the food court.

Where we could have had turkey legs or a variety of other sundry culinary delights. But those lines were too long. If we didn’t purchase and consume food immediately, I think Lori and I would have eaten each other.

Which is a story for another time.

After scarfing down a couple pieces of pizza and some bread sticks, we hit the shops, stopping for awhile at the heraldry shop. I’ve always wanted to pick up the Carhart coat of arms to display in our house so I stopped and chatted with a lady about it. Seems they can produce a Carhart history on parchment for a mere $20 ($45 framed). Pretty cool. My funds were short though so I held off (besides, if I was going to spend any more money, I would have rather picked up one of the really cool Pirate Pub T-shirts). Still, I asked about the coat of arms only to be told that we Carharts didn’t take one. She said she could do it with the coat of arms for England on it if I’d like. Why would I like that? After all, I’m pretty sure my Thomas Carhart genealogy book at home has a rough drawing if not a written description of the Carhart coat of arms. So I took their card. Perhaps I’ll write them with that description and see what it would cost to have one put together. I’d do it myself but I don’t know anything about heraldry and it would likely be an inaccurate representation of it.

So, a little disappointed, we moved on and stopped at the Globe Theatre (basically a few benches in front of a small stage) where we were treated to “A Celtic Duo.” These two were pretty funny. One guy played a variety of percussion instruments and spoke with a Scottish accent. He did most of the talking. Although his partner was an excellent bagpipe player, he had the weakest Scottish accent I’ve ever heard. It was like Kevin Costner’s British accent in Robin Hood. But they were good and they were entertaining, especially when hawking their CDs. Melody cracked up at them and danced in her stroller to their jigs so it was certainly worthwhile.

After that, we went down to the jousting arena but they were done for a while. Instead, the highland athletes were competing. How do I know they were athletes? Because they were sporting brand new Nike tennis shoes along with their kilts as they threw their stones as far as they could. If they weren’t athletes, why would they be wearing Nikes?

After browsing a few more shops and a stop at the eternally grimy “privies,” we were ready to head home.

But that was before we spied the “Children’s Realm.” Little more than a glorified petting zoo, there were llamas, cows, ponies, pigs, rabbits and even a rooster to pet. There were also animals to ride. Melody is only fifteen months old though so we just pushed her through to take a look at these strange beasts. She was quite interested.

But we were all tired.

So we made our way back to the front gates and took a pass through “Ye Olde Mister” to cool off. The walk back to the car was all uphill so I left Lori and Melody in the shade and went to get the Escape.

Once safe and sound in our climate controlled vehicle, we made for the nearest Dairy Queen where I treated myself to a Blizzard (naturally Lori got whatever she wanted too... but Melody was asleep... finally).

Supernatural Interference

So Lori and I were set to lead worship at church on Sunday. We were doing a couple new songs that we needed to go over with the drummer.

But Melody decided she was going to climb everywhere and then fall from everywhere. She was crying. She was hungry. She was tired. She wouldn’t stay put in the Sunday School class.

And it was frustrating the heck out of me. After all, how could I go over the new songs with the drummer in half-chorus chunks?

Naturally, the fact that I was getting frustrated over it just made Lori frustrated with me.

Needless to say, my heart wasn’t in the right place about fifteen minutes before the service started.

So we had two choices. We could just forge ahead and try to do the best we could or we could take it to God and give it to Him. We chose the second option. We gathered the band together and prayed. I confessed my jerkiness and we sorta folded up the rehearsal.

Despite the fact that we were only two voices (Lori and me), keyboards, bass and Melvin on drums, the band seemed extremely full during the worship part of the service. It was almost as if we were getting supernatural help.

After the service, Lori remarked to me on the way home, “That was probably the worst rehearsal we’ve ever had… and maybe the best worship we’ve ever lead.”

Funny thing about how God can work.

Now let’s see how God's going to use us tonight at the Springs Rescue Mission.

Adventures At Lunchtime

Yesterday I went home for lunch like I do almost every day. I get to see Lori (we’ve only been married for just shy of two years) and Melody (if she isn’t asleep) on these occasions and it helps breathe some real life into the otherwise hectic day that characterizes life in any art department.

I should preface this little story by stating that things have been a little tight this summer for the Carhart clan. Lori’s a teacher and the summer just isn’t the time for a teacher to bring in any additional income. The good news? Lori gets to spend a lot of time with Melody. The bad news is that we’re pretty much relying on my income and whatever I can bring in freelancing for at least three months a year.

So, due to the thinning of the Carhart wallet and the increase in gas prices, I decided to consolidate our gas funds into what has become known as Lori’s car. Actually, both the Escape and the Mustang are both of our cars but Lori primarily drives the Escape because it’s easier to get Melody in and out of it.

So the Mustang was on empty and I started driving the Escape to work... just until payday.

But, you see, we were also running low on groceries. So yesterday we decided that Lori would go to the grocery store after I returned to work from lunch.

I got in the mustang, started it and headed off down the street. About four houses away, the car chugged to a stop.

Out of gas!

It’s only happened to me maybe twice in my life (including yesterday). I couldn’t believe it. After all, I only work three minutes from the house.

I swiped the garage remote control and dragged my weary behind back to the house where I picked up the lawn mower gas can and trudged it back to the car. Did I mention it was probably a hundred degrees yesterday? Anyway, I emptied the can into the Mustang and turned the key.

No luck. Not enough gas (it was probably only an eight of a tank).

So I put the car in neutral and pushed it backwards back to the house. Just as it crested the slight hill, the car started rolling on its own. I was grateful because I was by myself and pushing the car alone wasn’t exactly easy. But then it started going faster. I had the top down so I could sorta steer it, but I was in front of the door and I couldn’t get a hold of it.

The car picked up speed and I started to panic. I cried out for help but there was no one around (I found out later that Lori had gone inside to secure Melody and put on a pair of tennis shoes to help me… I guess I should be more patient).

Finally I was able to grasp the handle on the door and swing myself into the driver’s seat where I quickly put on the breaks. The car stopped right in front of my garage.

With that fiasco over, the lawn mower can and I took the Escape to the nearest gas station where we filled up. I emptied the can into the Mustang and it started right back up like nothing had ever been wrong.

I ended up with a little longer lunch than usual, but at least I wound up with something interesting to post here.

Which is, of course, the important thing.

Rest assured both the Mustang and the Escape now have gas in them.

Have a happy and safe weekend!

What I’m Reading

As a writer, I’m sometimes asked what I’m reading.

Well, other than the predictably fun and satisfying in a “get-what-you-want” sorta way Star Wars novel, “Shatterpoint” (I’m always reading two books at a time, one a sci-fi or fantasy novel, the other something nonfiction), I’m reading “Faith, Form, And Time: What the Bible Teaches and Science Confirms About Creation and the Age of the Universe” by Kurt P. Wise.

I know. It’s a mouthful (not to mention a very long sentence). While not as spiritually deep as my previous nonfiction read (which was “Waking the Dead” by John Eldredge), It actually is an interesting, if overly analytical, read.

Wise makes a lot of good points in his book. Although I’m not certain I agree with 100% of his claims, I am interested to see where he’s going with it all.