Home From the Garage

Man, am I having chest pains. I just paid the folks at Firestone. I opted for the lifetime alignment. I can’t see how it can fail to be a good thing. I have a bad habit of skipping wheel alignment, and this, more than anything, is what ruins expensive tires. They will also give me a free rotation every time.

I also had two brake pads done. What an idiot. For what they charged, I could have done all four. They claimed the brake fluid looked bad, so I let them flush the system.

I think I did good, except for the brake pads. And the brakes feel much better now. The last thing I want is to plow into someone with three tons of steel, right after being warned that the pads needed to be replaced.

I took my old man to get his Explorer, which was getting new ball joints. He loves that car. He probably could have bought one the same age for what he just put into it.

The mechanic said the ball joints gave out because it was a Ford. Apparently Fords do this. That’s horrendous. The car’s suspension has been making noises for forty thousand miles. That means they went bad in the first half of the car’s projected life. Can Ford really be this lax about this important issue?

All the way home, I felt like I had won the lottery. I am enjoying this truck way too much to be healthy. I started fantasizing about a new stereo and better speakers. But I did not pull into Best Buy.

A man needs a truck or a sports car or convertible, the same way he needs one good revolver and a barbecue grill and smoker. A wife can probably spend the rest of his money entirely on herself if she gives way on these key issues.

Well. I guess I forgot about guys who play golf. I cannot relate to their illness.

I am sorely tempted to get a vanity tag. I was considering something like “Jzbel,” but then it occurred to me that “Prov 3110” would be even better. A sports car is like a hot stewardess you stay married to for three years. A pickup is the girl you should have married the first time around.

Bible Clingers Love Trucks

I just got up and found 18 comments waiting for me. It looks like I finally discovered what my readers care about. Pickup trucks.

Somebody mentioned Rotella T oil as the local oil of choice for marine diesels. This is true. There are several gallon jugs of it over at my dad’s boat right now. I think it’s 40-weight. I don’t know whether it’s right for a small truck diesel. The boat’s diesels are truck diesels, I suppose. I’m not sure. I have heard that the original V71-series Detroits were used on World War II landing craft, but for all I know, they were on trucks before that. They rarely go above 2000 RPM, if that means anything.

I think I’m going to get rid of the Thunderbird. It’s been fun, but it seems a little silly as a second car. It would be great to have a cheap small car for errands, but the T-bird is not ideal for this. It gets something like 18 mpg (guess), and it has a trunk the size of a kitchen drawer, and on sunny days, it’s like an oven until the AC kicks in. I think it would be better to get a secondhand Japanese car I don’t care about. A beater. Put money in the guts and forget about the looks.

Here’s what I keep thinking about. How am I going to get a thirty-foot-long truck through the drive-thru at McDonald’s? I have to have a Mickey D’s breakfast once in a while. Is it irresponsible to want a small car just for McDonald’s? Of course not. That much is clear.

I will lose babe appeal if I sell the Ford, but I never had much of that to begin with, so it’s a small sacrifice.

Today I have to get my front brakes fixed. I’m tempted to do it myself, but little jobs like this tend to be pretty cheap, and okay, I’M LAZY. I’ll just admit it. I don’t want to haul the floor jack out and get grease all over me. Are you happy? I should also have the alignment checked.

I was very impressed with Plaza Auto, the place that did my inspection. They get raves from reviewers. But Firestone is way closer, and they do lifetime alignments, so you only have to pay once, and believe it or not, they have told me the truth in the past.

I found used nerf bars for $115 on Craigslist. I would ordinarily haggle, but that’s like $400 off the new price, and it’s about 40% of the cost of most used bars. I don’t have to be a royal pain all the time. Sometimes it’s okay to just pay and leave. I am looking forward to putting them on. When I get out of the truck, I feel like I’m base-jumping. I don’t know why it’s so high. I don’t think it was lifted. I guess the suspension on this model starts out pretty high.

I have to decide what to do about tires. I think I can get another 5,000 out of the existing tires, and if I replace the front tires, I should be able to go maybe 20,000. I don’t know what kind of spare this truck has. I assume it’s just like the other tires. I think it’s safe to bet it’s not a compact.

I should get a toolbox and put some basic breakdown supplies in it. Flares. Vise grips. Cheap screwdrivers. Fuses. Socket set. I don’t want a truck box. They take up two feet of bed.

I might upgrade the stereo a little. I definitely have to get the Cuban stations off the presets.

I chose Geico for the insurance because Progressive was a little more expensive, and because I didn’t want to keep funding Progressive’s bizarre political causes. The name “Progressive” ought to get you a clue what they’re about.

I’ll be honest. They’ve been fantastic. But so is Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, and I avoid that, too. A commenter says Warren Buffett owns Geico, but I don’t think he’s as far to the left as the Progressive folks.

The suggestions are very helpful.

Large & Red

The baby is home. The mechanic said the only problem he could find was that the front brake pads needed to be replaced. He said the body work was excellent, apart from the dubious paint. That’s a relief. I was dreading returning the truck. I got him to recommend a shop to fix the paint.

I can’t get used to driving this thing. In Miami, nobody respects a turn signal from a small car. But signal to change lanes, while riding ten feet from the pavement, in a vehicle the size of a boxcar…people hit the brakes.

I think I should put a trailer hitch on it. It’s already set up for one. I have no plans to tow anything, but I think that big shiny ball will discourage tailgaters. My car’s bumper is soft plastic. No one is afraid of that. But a ball would take out a tailgater’s grille. Mike wants to send me a weight-distributing hitch. He says it will destroy any vehicle that touches it. I would take no pleasure in damaging another person’s car, but I think the sight of a big scary steel hitch will tend to keep other drivers alert.

I wonder how long it will be before I’m comfortable taking turns. As soon as the truck leans enough to make the springs move, I feel like it’s turning over.

I should go to Home Depot and buy some poop. I’ve been wanting to poop up the banana and plantain trees, but I didn’t want to put the bags in my dad’s poor SUV.

It’s just a used truck with one side that needs paint, but I’m thrilled to death with it. I can’t remember the last time I was this grateful for a possession.

Maybe I should run out and shop for a Jesus fish! I already emailed my pastor and let him know I have new hauling capabilities.

Bad cell photo:

Thanks for all the help in this protracted process.

The Dinosaurs are 6000 Years Old, and I am Burning Them, but Fast

Depending on how things go over the next day, I may be the owner of a ridiculous red diesel pickup truck.

I got my dad to run me to the dealership, on the assumption that I would be driving the pickup out. It was probably 20 minutes before I got to see the finance guy. He’s like the bridgetender from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. You have to get past him, regardless of whether your quest includes borrowing money.

They provided me with about a ton of forms, and being a lawyer, I read every line. This seemed to drive the finance guy insane. He was polite enough, but his manner suggested only a tiny thread of reserve was preventing him from lunging across the desk. He seemed extremely upset that I was wasting his time, which is remarkable, in an establishment where one of the primary tactics is to waste the customer’s time. I don’t make the rules, Finance Guy. I just turn them around on you to make your spleen pop.

I found a problem with one of the forms. They wanted me to swear to the truck’s VIN number, and since I had not personally verified it, I made them go get the truck and bring it to me so I could confirm it. I thought the finance guy would go nova.

I hoped my dad would give someone a stroke or a panic attack or an aneurysm or something, but he was very restrained.

I made them give me a written affirmation that they would give me 48 hours for a mechanical exam, and when I received it, I took my pen and wrote in a sentence assuring that I would receive a 100% return if I brought the truck back for any reason whatsoever. I drew a little line on it and put an X by it, indicating that the appropriate person should sign there, and I sent it back, and it came back to me initialed. I guess they didn’t like that too much, but I suppose they wanted me out of there.

We took the truck to a highly recommended mechanic, and he will have it until tomorrow morning. I had to fill it up on the way. Stupidly, I put a tankful in it. The dealer will get that if the truck fails inspection. I had to use two credit cards to fill it. The station had a $50-per-card limit. But I won’t have to fill it for another 700 miles.

The truck is amazing. It has remarkable acceleration. Because you’re so far off the ground, it’s hard to see how fast you’re going, but when I looked at the speedometer, I realized 50 mph was coming up mighty fast. I had to be careful not to get a ticket. The 3200-RPM redline does not seem to hold it back. I am no truck expert, but I think this thing has SHTF written all over it.

I hope it works out. I would rather hang myself than take it back. You can imagine what it would be like, trying to make them accept it. It will be like trying to put a diaper on a wildcat.

If the paint is the only problem, I’m home free.

I’ll have to see what maintenance it needs. The only diesels I’m familiar with are my dad’s 871s, and they take 40-weight oil. I don’t know if you can put synthetic in a diesel. I should have the brake pads checked, and I think the tires need a rotation. The wheels may need an alignment.

The truck does not have running boards. I thought it did. I suppose I should spring for some. Jumping down from the driver’s seat is already getting old.

Gun rack. I must get a gun rack. My dad did some research the other day, just for fun, and it turns out Florida has no law against openly carrying a long gun, so it may be time to put an assault rifle in my rear window.

I guess the diesel was a good move. The truck flies, and it will haul nearly anything, and the motor should outlast several bodies. Now that I know how good this motor is, I’m surprised everyone doesn’t have one. It’s a $7000 option, I think, but if you’re buying a new $40,000 truck, and you intend to use it like a truck, that’s not a terrible expense.

Now I have a means to take all the crap from my dad’s warehouse and haul it to my church. They will never get around to it. Surely they can use a two-thousand-dollar pile of new cable trays. If not, they can put it out front, and the crackheads will take it to the scrap dealer.

The day has been remarkable in one other regard. As I’ve noted, after a recent fast, I found that I no longer had a problem with gluttony, and that I had increased self-control in some other areas. I had one other positive result. I was less angry at people. This is something that had been driving me nuts. I found that I was irritated with people who had not done anything wrong, and even though it was me feeling this way, I wanted nothing to do with it. I hated it. It was fatiguing. The other positive effects I got from fasting lasted, but this one faded, and it disappointed me. Over the last week or so, I’ve been soul-searching, trying to figure out what I might have been doing wrong, to lose this.

I had several theories, but now I suspect it had something to do with the way I treat my dad. I had been allowing my sister’s situation to affect him too much. I wanted to get out from between them, to avoid taking on too much stress, so there were times when I withdrew. This morning I recalled that my grandfather had died the month after my aunt died from cancer. The cardiologist thought her death had contributed to his, by causing a stress-related ulceration inside a coronary artery. Even if I have to absorb a ton of stress, I can’t let that happen to my dad. After I thought about that and resolved to do better, the peace came back to me. I can’t tell you how great it feels. I hope I’ve found the problem.

Man, I hope that truck works out. I do not want to wade into the den of dissembling tar babies again.

Also

Marv has learned the cell phone walkie-talkie noise. We were watching “Bait Car” on the Tru network last night, and some cop was using a cell phone in walkie-talkie mode, and you know that high-pitched beep they make. One of the beeps seemed to come from the wrong direction, and when I looked in that direction, I saw Marv, looking quite smug. It cracked me up. He kept doing it; Marv knows when he comes across a crowd-pleaser. Now he knows I’ll squeeze him every time he beeps. That’s a problem.

This Will Teach Me

What is the most dependable phenomenon on earth? Death? Taxes? Toast landing on the buttered side? How about this: having a car dealer change the price after you make a deal.

Today I went down to the dealership from which I am trying my best to buy a used truck. I had negotiated a price, inclusive of absolutely everything except taxes and government fees. And I looked at the list of charges, and naturally, they had stuck a $689 “dealer fee” in there.

Am I crazy? Is there some reason why a dealer can’t make a profit without lying at every turn?

When I started shopping for a truck, I made sure I contacted the guy who sold me my Thunderbird, because he didn’t lie to me. It turned out he didn’t have any trucks I wanted, but every time I searched for something to buy, I looked at his dealership to see if something new had come in. That’s what happens when you treat customers like human beings. Isn’t that worth something to a dealer? One of the hardest things about retail is getting people to show up at your place of business. Isn’t it desirable to have people come in because they’ve already done business with you and look forward to buying from you again?

I had my dad with me, purely as a tourist. This did not help the dealer any. My dad gives car dealers diarrhea as a hobby. There was no way I was going to accept that fee in front of him. I would never hear the end of it. The salesman tried to get me to split it with him, but there was just no way. Why should I buy someone a new washing machine as a reward for mistreating me? I fail to see the logic.

I said, “A deal’s a deal,” and we left. And about a quarter-mile down the road, I heard my cell phone ring. That was the end of the dealer fee.

The salesman also said I would have to pay $450 for the tag and so on. He said the prices had gone up, and that the dealership would refund anything above what they paid the state. I was positive he was lying, but it looks like the actual fee is around $315, so–incredibly–he seems to be telling the truth. Of course, I’ll have to bring a microscope to look at the contract and make sure they’ll refund the excess.

I’ll be going back later. Then I’m taking the truck to a mechanic, and God willing, he will approve it. I’m worried that a rear door may be new. I got under the truck, and everything on the left side of the cab appears to be original, so hopefully, if the door is new, it’s the only thing damaged. The paint is somewhat imperfect, so it may be that when they fixed the bed, they had to blend the paint on the door.

Why does every car dealer on earth have to be a tar baby? Just sell me a car. Make a profit. I realize you expect to make money. But don’t commit fraud every time I walk in the door.

I think I want a vanity tag. I’ll have to think up a design and a couple of alternatives. I’d like to put something in it which reflects my religious beliefs. It’s always comforting to see a religious vanity tag. Is “religious vanity” a contradiction in terms. Sadly not, now that I think about it.

I do look forward to having the truck, aggravation notwithstanding. It should be very liberating. Can any man be complete without a pickup truck? It’s like not having a .22 rifle. It’s unseemly. Finally, I will be free of the shame.

Let’s see if I can buy it this time, without having to shoot anyone.

Body Work Discount

Here is my exciting project for the day. I want to negotiate an acceptable price for the Dodge I looked at last week.

The truck has body work on one side, in front of the rear wheel well. It also has a small puncture in a painted plastic strip above the bumper. I am trying to find out what it would cost to get these things fixed correctly. This would involve repainting an area the size of a 20″ TV, plus the bumper thing. That would probably run between five hundred and a thousand dollars. I submitted a question to an Internet expert in order to get confirmation.

The truck’s resale value is also affected. Not sure how much. Maybe ten percent.

Until this morning, I was under the impression that Coral Gables might have a really irritating law requiring caps on pickup beds, but it appears that I was wrong. While researching the issue, however, I found that a cover might not be a bad idea, provided it could be gotten out of the way easily when I carried large things. My church needs help ferrying speakers (people, not electronics) around, and that means luggage, and it might not be possible to cram the people plus the objects into a pickup cab. And it rains here. A lot. So the bed is not a great place for luggage, unless it has a cover.

I found a newer Dodge upstate, for a couple of thousand more (offering price v. offering price). It’s slightly less snazzy. It’s the “Big Horn” edition, which means better than base but usually not as good as an SLT. It has the 6.7-liter engine, which has more potential than the 5.9 but also more problems. I’d pretty much have to make it illegal in order to make it work, because the factory emissions stuff was apparently designed by Janeane Garofalo, and I’m not really interested in being fined. I don’t see how it could be a problem here in Florida, where we have no exhaust inspections, but what if I move? What if I drive through another state? Do they cite out-of-state drivers for emissions problems? I don’t know. My religious beliefs make me reluctant to break the law without a good reason, and the 6.7-liter Cummins appears to be utterly useless in its original state.

The modifications to make the engine function correctly run about a thousand dollars, and that’s not very appetizing.

I guess I’ll call the dealer with the 5.9-liter and lowball him again.

Flu Lite

I have never had side effects from a flu shot until now. Last night my throat seemed to swell up, as if it was half-sore, and I felt congested. It ruined my sleep. But it sure beats a week of hell, followed by a month of fatigue.

I just heard from someone who says a pharmacist told her she could catch the flu from the vaccine. I can’t believe people spread this rumor. If the pharmacist is right, every health authority in the world is wrong. Get on the web and see. Some people get the shot right before they come down with the flu, a cold, pneumonia, bronchitis, tonsillitis, or something similar, and they run around claiming the shot gave them the flu. The shot takes one to two weeks to work. Anything you catch within that time period is not attributable to the vaccine.

I haven’t been able to get my sister to get the vaccine. Some old doctor she knows told her to stay away from it because she had recently been injected with iodine dye, and the vaccine contains a tiny amount of mercury, and he thought it was too much “heavy metal.” Sure seems better than dying because you got the flu and chemotherapy has messed up your immune system.

I wish the swine flu shot was available. I’d take three. I do not want the swine flu. By the way, in case you don’t already know it, the reason they call it H1N1 (which is ambiguous, because it’s not the only H1N1 flu) is that Muslims have decided that any public mention of pigs is forbidden. For non-Muslims. For everybody. They get to make the rules, because people are afraid they’ll get blown up if they don’t toe the line. What a great attitude. I should start threatening to blow people up when they won’t obey me. I could get all sorts of discounts.

I dimly remember a time when bad behavior was punished, not rewarded. But I guess the people who advanced that philosophy have all been blown up by angry Muslims. Yet Janet Napolitano thinks I’m the big danger, because I have a shotgun and a Bible.

I’m starting to wonder if a major health crisis is on the way. I think God prepares his people for things, and here I am, growing bananas and plantains and storing beans and meat and canned fish. And we’re not having hurricanes, which would be a threat to frozen food. There must be a purpose for all this, beyond being cheap. If the swine flu mutates and starts killing large numbers of people, immunization will be impossible, and the best way to survive will be to stay home. That means storing food.

If my trees start paying off the way they’re supposed to, I’m in for a massive banana and plantain harvest in the near future. This would be a big help in a crisis. It’s hard to think of anything that is better to have on hand than bananas and plantains. They’re loaded with fiber. They’re high enough in calories to make them a good survival food. They’re incredibly versatile.

I wonder what else I could grow here, in the fungus and malicious bug capital of the world. Yuca, maybe. Calabazas.

Church was phenomenal last night. It was all about confession, which is a major feature of the teshuvah and atonement season. Protestants don’t seem to be big on the notion that confession has to be between people. The New Testament says something about confessing sins to each other, but the Old Testament is full of stuff about confessing directly to God. I suppose confessing to others as well as God may be a better way, depending on whether it will ruin your life. Some people will take your confession and turn it against you. People are not as forgiving as God. You could end up in jail or in some other kind of trouble. I am not sure God wants us to subject ourselves to great risk by confessing.

These days I worry about schadenfreude and unjustified anger. I once felt annoyed with a crippled person for delaying me by crossing a street in front of me. I am pretty sure this person did not become crippled in order to inconvenience me. At times like this you wonder what’s wrong with you.

Anyway, the pastor had everyone come up and kneel in front of the stage, for a session of repentance and prayer. It was a huge success. I can only imagine what it will be like today, with much higher attendance.

Every day this week, they’re having a one-hour event at noon, celebrating atonement and repentance. That ought to be good.

Last night, they blew a shofar in church. Things are so different, now that some Christian denominations realize they don’t have to preach replacement theology or outright anti-Semitism. Next weekend, they’ll blow it again, I think. They’re going to have a one-day fast, from 6 p.m. Saturday until 6 p.m. Sunday. That’s a day earlier than the Jews. Yom Kippur starts on Sunday night, and Jews will fast the next day. We’re not getting it quite right, but being Gentiles, we don’t have to.

I watched Robert Morris this week, and he said something interesting. He explained the Bible verse that says the Holy Spirit convicts us of righteousness. He says that means it helps us realize we are in right standing with God. Over the last few weeks, I’ve had an experience like that. I’ve gone to church and heard a powerful message about something that is no longer a big problem for me, and I’ve had the sense that I was doing okay with regard to that issue. I’m always nervous about feeling like I’ve arrived, but sometimes it’s okay to admit you’ve gotten past something. I think.

He also said the Holy Spirit is not weird. I assume that was intended for people who roll on the floor and bark like dogs and claim the Holy Spirit is making them do it. He said that if you act weird in church, it probably means you’re a weird person in your own right. Makes sense to me. I think that if you parade around making funny noises and jerking and twitching in front of a congregation, it probably means that if you were not a Christian, you’d be sort of like Meat Loaf or Alice Cooper. The same way some of the “Davidic worship” guys might otherwise be female impersonators.

I really look forward to sleeping tonight.

Prosperity is a Lot of Work

I must have 25 bags of frozen lime and key lime juice now. I wanted my trees to be productive, but I’m starting to wonder where the juice is going to go.

I just put away five half-cup bags, after slicing and freezing a Costco beef loin. I’m turning into my grandmother! I have a pressure cooker, I grow food, and I’m considering learning to can. What next? Knitting?

You have to be a good steward. That’s the pitch. Back in the 80s, they used to say God would bless you with prosperity and health as long as you sent Jim Bakker and Robert Tilton enough money. It didn’t really matter what you did the rest of the time. And of course, it did not work. Oddly, God did not reward people for buying evangelists purple Bentleys and mink toilet seat covers.

These days, the message is somewhat more balanced. Give alms; don’t just send checks to questionable TV preachers. Repent. Pray. Fast. Go to church. Behave responsibly. Robert Morris writes and speaks about this stuff, and I think he’s right. It’s a little insulting to claim you can be a monumental jerk and get God to bless you, but it’s also insulting to say God doesn’t reward people. So anyway, I am afraid to throw out the fruit and herbs I grow, and I try not to spend like a total fool. Hence the freezing and bagging.

It seems to pay off, at least with regard to bananas, limes, herbs, and peppers. Actually, things are going very well with me in general. People close to me have it harder than I do at the moment. I can’t talk about every good thing that’s happening in my life. Wish I could.

Hey…what if I had paid more attention to my elders when I was a kid? I would have been doing a lot of this stuff a long time ago. Doh!

I’m going to try to get a flu shot now. I was going to take two friends to church, but they both got the flu. Coincidence, I’m sure. It’s not like there are any forces out there that try to keep people from turning to God. Never. Couldn’t happen.

We’re still on for next week.

I Must Decrease

I just had my weekly McDonald’s breakfast. What DO they put in this stuff? I’m positive it contains crack. I feel magnificent. Like Popeye on a spinach bender.

I can’t get over the change I’ve experienced since the fast I did a couple of weeks back. I have better control in several areas of my life, and it’s not subtle, and it’s not imaginary. The other day, I went to my church for a meeting, and I was invited to a prayer group, and I had to kill some time, so I went to Krispy Kreme. Later I told my pastor, “I worked a miracle. I had ONE doughnut.” If you, like me, are fat, you understand what I mean. Fat is what happens when you can’t stop. Something (or someone) compels you to grab that next cookie or slice or McMuffin. Sometimes you win, but over the long haul, you lose often enough to grow extra chins and require a second “fat wardrobe.” I don’t have that problem any more. It’s gone.

I started working on my weight a few weeks back, and over a fairly long time, I lost about four pounds. I did not enjoy it all that much. Now I’m down ten, and I’ve quit dieting. I used to have a thing I called “fat day.” It meant I dieted all week and ate whatever I wanted on Saturday. I don’t do that any more, because I don’t have to. I behave well enough–every day–to allow me to give up gimmicks and mind tricks. The weight is coming off because I no longer have irresistible fat inclinations.

It’s not because fasting reduces the calories I take in. I do fast once in a while, but I promise you, I can easily overcome the calorie deficit if I try. In the past, I always stuffed myself on the day after a fast, so I probably came out ahead. Muslims complain that they gain weight during Ramadan, when they fast every day. The empty days are not what make the difference for me. I just don’t have the gluttony bug any more.

I used to celebrate Saturday with a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, one or two McMuffins, three hash browns, and a large Coke. That’s enough energy to keep a small city going for a week. I told myself the third hash brown was for Maynard and Marvin, but I always got most of it. Today I had one biscuit, one McMuffin, one hash brown (minus bird donations), and a medium soda. And while I was ordering, I didn’t hear that familiar voice in the back of my head, screaming that I needed to order more food. I used to order large pizzas and eat them by myself. I don’t think I’d enjoy that today. Two or three slices…that, I could enjoy.

I think you can’t progress as a Christian if you set your heart on the things of this world and let them control you, and that includes food. The book of Proverbs says gluttony causes poverty. Did you know that? It’s not a good thing. It evidently carries a curse. That shouldn’t be a surprise, since it ruins your knees, your pancreas, your sleep, your looks, and your arteries. It costs you jobs, because people don’t like to hire fat applicants. It makes you less attractive, so you may have very limited choices when you marry. It can cause people to ostracize you socially. And it can even be expensive. Food and drink cost money, and so does insulin.

I love good food, but I have come to realize that I have to limit my involvement with it. To cook good food, you have to put in time. You have to spend many days preparing and trying dishes. It’s very tough to do that if you’re eating sensibly every day. Cooking will have to take a lower priority in my life.

Think about the calories you take in when you eat “normal” food. Two eggs, toast, butter, jelly, four strips of bacon…that’s enough food to get you through twelve hours, but you’re supposed to eat again in five. Add coffee with a little cream and sugar, and it’s around a thousand calories. A burger, fries, and a Coke…same thing. Then sit down to dinner and have a small steak, two vegetables, a roll, and a salad with dressing. By the time you’re done, it’s probably 4,500 calories. Fine, if you’re a lumberjack. Are you a lumberjack? I’m not.

I have to stay under about 2,200 calories per day, unless I’m working in the yard or something. That’s one decent meal, or three wimpy ones. No way around it. So I eat a crummy bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, I have something small for lunch, and then I have meat and two vegetables for dinner. That’s about all I can do. I can’t hang out in the kitchen every day, working on recipes for lasagne and paella. I can eat a little better on days following fasts, but I can’t be serious about cooking.

Anyway, I can’t believe God freed me from the fat curse. I’m like a week and a half away from wearing my “real clothes.” And I didn’t expect this; it wasn’t the goal I had in mind when I fasted. It must have been important to God.

If you want to see proof God does things for people, come see me eat a third of a pint of Haagen-Dazs. Fat people can’t eat a third of anything. They have to have it all.

This is the exciting thing about Christianity. We are a society of people with problems we can’t solve. We have diet books, relationship books, exercise books, addiction books…none of it works. We’re trying to fill a void only God can fill. The world is full of people who have testimonies about instant and permanent delivery from destructive habits and inclinations. You generally won’t get permanent solutions from Dr. Phil and Weight Watchers and AA (the secular version of AA, that is). You get temporary solutions that give you false hope. God has the real antidote.

We always assume Biblical references to salvation refer exclusively to our eventual trip to paradise, but I think that may be wrong. I think that’s just one aspect of salvation. I think deliverance from addiction or debt or anger or perversion is salvation. God rescues believers all the time. The rescue we get when we die is just one example. The last manifestation of a lifelong pattern. Why be satisfied with one part of the package, when you’re supposed to have the whole thing? Not perfect life, but victorious life. If it has been bought and paid for, why not make use of it?

I feel an urge to get out some jeans and see which pairs I can put on without making them explode. Maybe I should put on safety goggles to protect me from flying buttons.

More

I am wearing a pair of relatively thin jeans. I couldn’t resist the urge to try them on. They are on the tight side, but wearable.

This is just crazy.

He Laughs at Your Bottled Water

I have been writing about the Forty Days of Teshuvah, which precede Yom Kippur. Today I got an email from the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, linking to a piece by Rabbi Yechiel Eckstein. He explains the significance of repenting (literally “returning”) during the ten days before the day of atonement.

Why ten days and not forty? I forget, to be honest. I’m too tired to think. I’ll look it up.

Okay, here it is. It was originally ten days, but Jewish tradition extended it to include the prior month. Teshuvah is important. You don’t want to miss anybody. As Rabbi Eckstein points out, Ezekiel 18:23 says, “Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign Lord. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?”

Rabbi Eckstein also explains the Jewish belief concerning the way God determines and seals our fates during this period.

Interesting notes: Jewish tradition says man was created on Rosh Hashanah, and that the world was created five days earlier. Good thing it wasn’t the other way around.

Uh oh. Looks like the page where I got the information is run by Messianics. They quote John the Baptist (sometimes referred to by Messianics as John the Immerser, but never “John the Space Cowboy”). Aaron will not be pleased.

According to [the very non-Messianic] Rabbi Eckstein, “[T]he Hebrew month that leads up to the High Holy Days is a time when ‘the King is in the field,’ when God’s presence is more immediately accessible to us.” I did not realize that, but given my experiences in August, I would have to say that I think this is absolutely correct. I am freaked out all the time these days. I know how crazy I sound, but it’s true. Sometimes I stop what I’m doing and look up, because he’s just HERE.

All I can say is, “pearl of great price” is no exaggeration. Paul described the things he gave up to follow Jesus, using a term that can be translated as “dung.”

Regarding the tremendous significance of forty-day periods in the Bible, I noticed something new the other day. I hadn’t caught it before. Moses didn’t just fast for forty days, during his Sinai experience. He fasted for forty (no food, no water), brought down the commandments, got mad and broke them, and fasted for forty more, presumably to get God to spare the idol-worshiping Hebrews. Moses was hardcore. I can do three days, with water. After that, I figure I’m about as holy as I can stand to be.

Sorry about the Steve Miller joke.

Why be Distracted by Facts When Theory and Wild Guesses are What Really Matters?

Man, what a day I had.

I ran up to church to meet with the pastor about the book I’m helping him write. I also dropped off a couple of items I thought could help them out. I spent an hour and a half with him, going over organization and structure. Then he invited me to a GAP meeting. This is what they call their small prayer groups: “God Answers Prayer.” The church has about a million of these for women and maybe fifteen for men, which shows you how the demographics are. The one I went to is the pastor’s group, so all the guys there were leaders. Two were former military, one was the pastor’s son, one was a music leader, and another was a cardiologist. Okay, I guess he wasn’t exactly a leader, but he seems to be close to the nerve center.

The pastor made the mistake of asking me what my impressions of the church were, and I guess I spewed for ten minutes, telling them all sorts of background they probably did not want to hear about. But they were very nice about it. When I talked about an experience I had had, in which the presence of Jesus came to me and pretty much sat next to me, one of them nodded his head vigorously. I think he knew exactly what I meant. I need to know more people like that. I felt like Richard Dreyfuss in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, when they dumped him in a room full of other people who had been given visions by extraterrestrials. Someone else understands!

They’re doing all sorts of wild stuff up there. They’re opening an accredited Bible school, where you can get a for-real degree that can later form the basis of a master’s. They’re having a huge convention-type thing just for women, and they’re going to need male volunteers. Not sure what for, but I suppose it’s safe. They’re having a men’s prayer breakfast. And the pastor is thinking of putting together a deal where men help confused boys get it together. A lot of kids in that area need basic instruction in things like manners and hygiene and responsibility. Who else is going to teach them?

They seem happy that I’m willing to show up once in a while and do something, but from my perspective, they’re doing me a favor. This is what I wanted. Going to church once or twice a week, leaving a little money, and going home do not constitute living by faith. I want to be part of the team.

For a long time–as long as I can remember–I’ve felt out of place in this world. Unwelcome. I find the mindset and lifestyle of unbelievers grubby and dismal. I don’t seem to be able to fit in, even when I try. I don’t think there is a place for me in the brutish realm of people who think this is all there is. I’m hoping I can be more at home among people whose beliefs are like mine.

A reader–maybe Ed–once left a comment about this sensation. It was a scriptural reference, reminding us that Christians aren’t really part of this world. We’re like ambulatory embassies. Present in a hostile country, but property of a different land. The Bible actually calls us ambassadors.

I feel so relieved. This stuff works. This is how life is supposed to be. Not a luxury cruise, but still, a succession of triumphs. Even our losses are wins. How can you beat that?

I kept saying something wonderful was going to happen to me, didn’t I? I didn’t know what it was. I admitted that. It looks like it’s going to be an assortment of wonderful things.

But why talk about things I can’t prove? Much better to whine about how old the dinosaurs are and whether our ancestors were monkeys. Those are the things that really matter, aren’t they? And the apparent trivial inconsistencies in the gospels…I should be deeply, deeply concerned about those. Why get caught up in things like joy and purpose and miracles and answered prayers and victorious living? No intellectual cares about things like that.

Sorry I even brought up the subject. What was I thinking?

I Will Organize Your Life

I managed to get some work done on the book today. It’s not a great sign when someone who needs organization comes to me. I am not known for my hospital corners and neat files. But I’m managing. I’m writing an outline, and today I started an introduction, which, itself, is a lot like an outline. If you write the introduction to a book before you start the book, it ought to give you some idea which way you’re headed.

I’m still all excited about fasting, even though I hate it. I went to a barbecue and ate like a normal human being. That kind of self-control is new to me. If fasting will do that for me, I’m all for it. And it’s not just food. I’m doing better in other ways. Is this the answer to things like drug addiction and compulsive gambling? I have to wonder. It worked for me. Am I the only one who gets that kind of treatment? Presumably not.

Today I came up with a theory that if you fast, God won’t send you to hell, because you’ve already been there.

I’ll be shooting up to the church on Wednesday to talk about the book and drop off some junk. I won’t be as far along as I had hoped, but I’ll have a very good start.

The other night, I wanted to unwind, so I turned on the tube and looked at Daystar. This is like TBN, sort of. I hadn’t heard of it until earlier this year. They were interviewing a guy named Larry Huch (pronounced “huck”), and he was talking about the significance of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. I can’t get used to Christians saying “ROSH huh shuh NAH”; all the kids I grew up with said “ROSH huh SHAH nuh.” Anyway, I keep talking about the Forty Days of Teshuvah, prior to Yom Kippur, and how the Jews believe this is like Lent. If you get it together during this season, repenting and praying and giving, God will bless you or refrain from punishing you in the new year, which starts in a couple of weeks. That’s the theory.

Larry Huch has written a popular book about such things. It’s called The Torah Blessing. I’m thinking of getting a copy. They were giving away copies to anyone who would pledge 25 bucks per month to Daystar, over the coming year. I don’t want it that bad, but I might buy one.

Seems like charismatics all over the US are going nuts over supporting Israel and learning about Judaism. Huch even claims the Bible says God will give prosperity to people who pray for the peace (probably “shalom,” which means more than peace) of Jerusalem.

My pastor is planning to have somebody blow a shofar in church. THAT is way out there. It shows the progress churches (some) have made in figuring out what really matters to God. The older, established churches tend to be hostile to Israel and Jewish interests, but the newer ones have a much better attitude. Jews may find us annoying, but we’re actually helping, to such a degree that the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews (funded by Christians, run by a Jew) has a fairly powerful voice now before the Israeli government. We’ve flown hundreds of thousands of Jews to Israel. We feed old Israelis. We help poor Jews in the former USSR. God has helped us to get off our butts and get a lot done. It’s as great a gift as any of us could ask for.

The wild thing about it is that it was predicted by prophecy, and the people who believed the prophecy weren’t just Christians. The Jews themselves proclaim it. They note the passage that speaks of a day when ten Gentiles will grab the hem of a Jew’s garment and say “We will go with you, because we have heard that God is with you.” They talk of Isaiah’s prediction about Gentiles carrying the sons and daughters of Jews to Israel. That’s not just nonsense televangelists say to get people excited enough to send them money. Rabbis say it.

Fun times. Unless you go to a church that preaches replacement theology. To them, the Jews are just a bunch of jerks.

Daystar just signed a contract to broadcast Christian TV into Israel. Not sure how that’s going to work out. In Israel, the word “missionary” is pronounced with the same sentiment as words like “Nazi.” At least they’ll be able to see that someone on the planet is on their side. I’d guess that 95% of American Jews have no idea how supportive some branches of Christianity are. The figure is probably not much different in Israel.

John Hagee insists that Jews do not have to accept Jesus to get salvation. He makes a very good argument, based on the life of Joseph, whom he sees as a type of Jesus. I would love to believe it. Since I have never made any headway whatsoever toward converting a Jew, and since I have very low expectations of future success, I don’t know if it matters much.

One odd thing about the gospels: they claim the Jews said they wanted the blood of Jesus to be on them and their children. Isn’t this what Christians say every day about themselves? If you apply the blood of a sacrifice to yourself, aren’t you accepting the benefit of that sacrifice? It seems strange that it should be bad–an admission of guilt–for a Jew to apply the blood, while it’s very good for a Christian. This passage would seem to back up Hagee’s contentions. If someone calls you a Christ-killer, say, “I sure hope I am,” because if you aren’t responsible for the sacrifice, it can’t do you any good.

Here’s something really weird, since I’m writing about weird things. On Yom Kippur, the Jews sacrificed a goat. This goat had a red thread tied around its throat. A second goat with a white thread was sent into the wilderness to starve. After the atonement, the thread would turn from red to white. Between the time of Jesus’s death and the destruction of the temple, the thread did not turn white. The odd thing about this story is that it doesn’t come from Christians. It’s from the Talmud. It doesn’t refer to the death of Jesus, but it does refer to a period beginning forty years prior to the temple’s ruin, which is essentially the same thing.

Christians say it proves there was no longer any need for an animal sacrifice for atonement. Jews say the thread was just there to help the priests remember which goat was which, and that the miracle had nothing to do with the atonement. We disagree about what it means, but the testimony that it happened is not controversial, and it comes from Jews.

Part of the Jewish response is that Jewish followers of Jesus continued to use the temple. But not all sacrifices were for atonement. There were all sorts of things that went on at the temple. Christians who study this stuff believe sacrifices will continue in the Messianic Age, in the rebuilt temple, in spite of the fulfillment of so many things. They believe this because the Bible predicts it, and because some sacrifices have nothing to do with erasing sin.

Go ahead and read the Jewish response to the Messianic interpretation. It’s no threat to a Christian’s faith. All it proves is that two sets of people can agree on the facts and disagree completely on what they mean. I present the story because it’s of value to Christians.

And now I have to deliver banana nut bread to my sister.

Somehow it Does Not Seem Right

Yesterday was amazing. I had already been to church on Saturday night, but I think it’s important for family members to attend together, so I went on Sunday with my sister. Sometimes you just know a message is right for a certain person, and this was one of those times. I didn’t want her to miss it.

When we arrived, I let her decide where we would sit. I always take the first convenient seat. There are TVs all over the church. It makes no difference at all where you sit, except that the music is way too loud at the front. But she likes to be up by the stage. Yesterday, she didn’t care where she sat, so we took two seats in the back. The message was great, and when it was over, the pastor’s mom came up and introduced herself. She and her husband sit in the back, and because we were so near them yesterday, they noticed us. That was great. Anything that helps us get more involved is good.

Afterward, I went to watch the Dolphins with Val and Pat and Tommy, and although I didn’t expect to achieve anything with regard to religion, by the end of the day, two people had decided to go to church with me. I couldn’t believe it. We’ll be going on Saturday.

The sermons my pastor is turning into a book contain a section in which he says each of us has four “families.” One family is our friends. He says you can’t hang around with people who don’t believe, because they pull you back into a worthless lifestyle. That had concerned me, so before I went over, I asked God to help me lead rather than be led. And look what happened. I was content to sit there and be quiet. I had very little to do with it. But it happened.

On the way home, I thought about the offer I made on the pickup. They wanted about two thousand over what they had in the truck, and they wanted me to finance it. The theory behind financing is that I get a thousand more off the price, because Ford has a finance rebate. I don’t want to finance, because I hate debt.

Well, guess what? It’s an even worse idea than I thought. If I finance, the payments will be several hundred a month. Under the terms of the contract, I’ll have to pay for several months before I can pay the balance off and get rid of the loan. Now, what do you call the first payments you make on a loan? “Interest.” It has no effect on the principal. It’s pure profit for Ford. Depending on the rate, I’ll be shoveling a huge pile of money directly to Ford, effectively jacking up the price of the truck.

Man, I get tired of being treated like a moron. Do they seriously think I’m stupid enough to pay them over two grand in interest to get a thousand back? On what planet do they find people dumb enough to fall for that?

Show me where I’m wrong. The loan isn’t interest-free. On their sites, they’re quoting 7%. That means something like two grand in interest, and until Ford gets it, the amount you owe remains constant. Principal comes later.

Talking to a car salesman is about like talking to Satan. If you can deal with car salesmen and drug addicts, nobody alive can fool you. Their tactics are exactly the same. You have to wonder how much higher new car sales would be, if people didn’t dread being lied to and abused every few years. Realtors are angels compared to car salesmen. So are most other salespeople. I wonder why the car industry attracts the worst liars. Car people can’t even tell the truth in the service department. The dealers hire slimy salesmen and call them “advisers.” Their advice usually amounts to “spend money and get nothing in return.” Geez.

Lawyers can’t hold these people a light. They are not even in the same universe.

The crazy thing is, this is their best behavior. This is how they act in a recession, while trying to sell an old truck nobody wants. A vehicle which tops out at 18 miles per gallon. I can’t even imagine dealing with them on something that’s actually appealing to buyers.

Craigslist is starting to look better and better.

Not really. It’s horrible.

Anyway, I am passing up the fantastic deal the salesman offered me. Call me crazy.

Dialysis Too?

From Heather:

They did the cardio vert on mom yesterday. They only had to shock her once and it went really well.
Her heart is back in normal rhythm, but she is experiencing anemia due to her kidney’s not functioning, they are giving her two units of blood today.
Could you please pray that her kidneys are healed and her body is cleansed of cancer? We are asking for a total healing so she doesn’t have to go on dialysis.

And Then I’ll Stop

I believe today is the day to break down and buy a horizontal band saw. I have piles of metal and no way to cut it into usable pieces. I thought the dry cut saw was the answer, but I was sadly mistaken. It works great for small jobs, but big cuts dull the blade and take forever.

Looks like it’s time to drive to Northern Tool.

I could have gotten a nice used Jet cheaper, but at the time the ad was running, I had no way to bring it home.

I have to get the garage together. The whole length of my table saw top is covered in junk. During the time leading up to Yom Kippur, I am trying to repent of laziness and irresponsibility, so the garage mess has to be dealt with. Maybe I’ll set up the saw and attack the disorder.

The effects of the fast I did week before last are still with me. In addition to having more self-control, I’m down about nine pounds. And before you say it’s because there are days when I eat fewer calories, let me rain on your delusional campfire. I could fast three days a week and gain weight, because I would more than make up for it on the remaining days. If I go above two thousand calories a day, I gain weight. I can eat six thousand calories in a day without breaking a sweat. You don’t have to eat a tremendous amount of food to do it. Four pints of ice cream, for example. It’s very easy to put 2,000 calories into a meal. The reason I’m losing weight is that I eat less every day, and the reason for that is that I no longer feel the same way about food. This is no different from the testimonies of heroin addicts who have been freed instantly.

I hope I can get similar changes in other areas of my life.