Friday, March 30, 2007

A SURREAL MOMENT AND AN INSIDE JOKE

I was walking through the woods on Hardack hill in search of Sherry Bevins, a mentally ill woman, who on the previous morning had stabbed an elderly man eight times in the back as he was walking his dog down High Street. It was late May, almost June, and the hot humid air was making me sweat underneath my bullet proof vest.

I don’t know why it was called Hardack Hill. On every map I ever saw it was neatly labeled “Aldis Hill”, but everyone, even the dispatcher who had sent me up there, called it “Hardack.” We had received a tip, through some very amusing circumstances (I’ll have to tell you that story some other time), that Bevins had spent the night with a man who was also mentally ill, named Mikey Paquette, at his camp-site in the woods on Hardack.

After Trooper McNamara and I searched Paquette’s camp-site without finding Bevins, we decided to split up and comb the forest north of Paquette’s camp in the hopes of finding some sign of her. Trooper McNamara said that he often walked his dog on Hardack and that if we walked far enough we would eventually come to Rt. 105, I-89, or walk back into St Albans.

I agreed, said goodbye, and tramped off into the woods. I walked for a long time. I enjoyed it. It wasn’t often that my job called for a nice leisurely stroll through the woods, and even if it was a little hot at least I wasn’t at a domestic assault or mediating a landlord/tenant dispute. I was walking through the woods on Hardack Hill- a free man. At first I did my best to be stealthy. After all, I was looking for a knife-wielding mad woman, but after a while I decided it wasn’t very likely that I was going to find her and I just began to enjoy the walk.

At one point I turned uphill to avoid a patch of brambles, and after pushing my way through some dense growth, I came out into a little clearing. All around me Hickory, maple, and white pine, flush with spring growth, crowded in and loomed over the tiny opening in the dense woods. Their branches mingled in the sky above me and their roots intertwined below. The sunlight, filtered through layered leaves, fell in dappled splotches on the mossy ground. There was an immense slab of granite in the middle of the clearing. The inscription on it claimed that this was the site where the last wolf in the state of Vermont had been shot by a resident of St Albans. I wish I could remember the date on the inscription and the name of the man. I think his last name was Brainerd and it was in the 1800’s, but I’m not sure about specifics. I remember that, according to the inscription, the wolf measured over six feet long from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail. It was a pretty good size slab, which must have taken several men and a healthy team of mules to transport there.

It was surreal… like a dream... one of those moments where you just kind of step back and ask yourself how did I come to be standing here way out in the woods? In a police uniform? With a forgotten slab of granite?

I checked with city hall later, and nobody there knew anything about the granite slab. I called The Messenger, our local newspaper, but they didn’t seem interested. I never met anyone who knew anything about the spot where the last wolf in the state of Vermont died.

Captain Renaudette and I caught Sherry Bevins later that day. She had fallen asleep in a garden shed with her head propped up against the side of a lawn mower deck for a pillow. The frantic home owner, who had heard about the stabbing on the news, and who had discovered a disheveled looking crazy woman asleep in her shed, did the math and called 911.

Sherry was bent over the back of my cruiser in hand cuffs. My bullet proof vest was beginning to chafe against my sweaty skin. I couldn't wait to go home and take a shower. She had a smudge of oil on the side of her face and the imprint left from sleeping against the mower deck. She smelled awful. I asked her why she stabbed the man, and she just laughed and shook her head... like it was an inside joke or something... like I wouldn't understand if she told me.

AREA BEDROOM HAS THAT WEIRD JEFF SMELL

Get the full story here...

Thursday, March 29, 2007

A PHOTOGRAPHIC JOURNEY THROUGH THE COOLEST LITTLE CITY IN THE WORLD- ST ALBANS, VT

The future, eh?

St Albans is the self-proclaimed "maple sugar capital of the world," and home of the "maple festival.


St Albans Bay

Looking west on Lake Street next to the Beverage Mart.

Main Street St Albans.

The New England Central railroad Building at the corner of Lake and Federal.

Those durn rebels.

The north end of Taylor Park.



Wednesday, March 28, 2007

"There are a lot of dumplings in this stew!"
Jim Lanik (The man who pumped our septic tank, and who famously remarked "I take crap from everybody.")

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

FREAK SNOW STORM

Yesterday, it was warm enough that I spent the better part of the day working outside in short sleeves constructing a raised planter on the south side of our house for Sarah. She wanted the planter to plant flowers and such this spring. For weeks it has been glorious here in the San Jacinto Mountains. Lots of sun, plants budding, birds singing, etc...
...but today was a different story. Maybe I enraged Jack Frost by constructing the planter and dreaming about springtime things. Like he was saying, "How dare you plan for spring before I and my icy minion have struck our colors and surrendered the field."
It snowed pretty furiously for over an hour and it is still spitting out there. It will all probably melt tomorrow, and this weekend is supposed to be beautiful again.

Monday, March 26, 2007

QUESTION OF THE DAY

If you had to choose one or the other would you rather be armed with a venomous bite or the ability to emit a foul noxious odor like a skunk when threatened?

Saturday, March 24, 2007

JOSH TATE IS WHAT WILLIS WAS TALKIN' 'BOUT!

AVAST YE HARDIES!

I just recently learned that the pirate term "AVAST" comes from the Dutch "to stand fast."

In nautical terms the command "AVAST" meant to cease or stop, but it was also used to mean "Stand Firm," as well as being used as a general greeting.

I think we, in the Christian subculture, need to recommission this linguistic relic and use it again with new meaning.

So to all of you brothers and sisters muddling your way through this side of eternity I say "Avast ye hardies!"

...and if any of ye would like to join this rag-tag crew of misifits, castaways, and ne'er do wells I'd be happy to introduce ye to the Cap'n. He's the only good one in the bunch.

ENGAGEMENT RING


It came as no surprise to sarah when I asked her to marry me. We had been working together for a very long time to raise the money to purchase an engagement ring. Neither of us had any money- we were in college- so we raised money for the ring by collecting cans and bottles for their $.05 redemption value. Everyday after dinner we would walk through classrooms fishing cans and bottles out of trash cans. We would also collect redeemables after sporting events and such. Eventually, once word got around what we were doing ,I would wake up and find bags of recyclables outside of my door, which had been left there by anonymous nocturnal visitors.

Every week we would load Brown Car to the gills with stinky recyclables and drive to Jubilee Market in Fillmore. We would keep the growing sum in a metal box in my room. We raised approximately $650.00 solely from redeemables before we bought the ring.

FEELING NOSTALGIC

This was my dorm room my Sophomore year. My roommate that year was Tim Williams. Neither of us were particulalry neat and orderly. I credit Tim with saying the single funniest thing anybody has ever said to me. Like with most comedy you really had to be there to appreciate the context and comedic timing.

One morning when my alarm went off I sprang out of bed and made for the far edge of my desk where the alarm was precariously perched atop a styrofoam take out box. I went approximately 3 feet before my feet got tanlged up in the assorted clutter and down I went with a crash. Tim woke up, rolled over, looked at me and, without skipping a beat, said "short yardage gain."

Sarah and I at Munger brook behind the Lake House.
Hot!!!

This picture was taken moments after Sarah and I got engaged, and subsequently kissed for the first time. That's why we were all smiles. It was a bitterly cold day in February. I asked her to marry me on Rock Dundar down below the house on the frozen lake shore. The lake was dotted with fishing shanties and parked pickup trucks, and a wind was howling off the lake and blowing Sarah's hair around. It was a nice kiss, and she was wearing the ring we had purchased through the proceeds of our partnership in the recycling business.


BROWN CAR

My first car was an eighties model, copper colored, Buick Century. I bought it in advance of my junior year in college, and with my beautiful girlfriend, Sarah Paulson, in the passenger seat life was truly Idyllic.
It was good looking car, but it ended up throwing a rod on I-90 less than a year after I bought it. I have a lot of good memories in that car though. A lot of important and enjoyable late night conversations with Sarah took place in the front of that Buick as we hurtled through the darkness coming back from Allen Lake, the Truck Stop, Olean etc... Those were great days.
I got my first speeding ticket in the Buick, which is ironic because its engine would start to complain whenever I would approach the speed limit, and it never did have a lot of power. We were coming back from Niagara Falls, which was just an hour north of Houghton. It was three in the morning and we were driving through Arcade, NY when Officer Wells (pictured above) pulled me over. I was bummed to get a speeding ticket, but I was still cheeky enough to ask Officer Wells if I could have my picture taken with him. I told him, "You're the first to get me!"

AN OPEN WOUND- CHRISTIANS ON THEIR HEELS- MORAL CONFUSION- MORE FROM THE ST ALBANS MESSENGER

The temptation is to appease- to retreat with apologies. Certainly scripture doesn't tell us to go around judging the behavior of non-Christians and loudly proclaiming how sinful they are or how righteous we are. That just isn't the example set forth in scripture. We are to do everything in love, live our lives in a manner that is pleasing to our Lord, and do our best to serve as a faithful ambassador for Christ in our times and in our place.

I admit the tone on both sides of this issue is unsettling. These societal trends are disturbing, and I wonder what is the best way for the body of Christ to respond to it. We must never call sin anything other than what it is, but Colossians 4:5-6 tells us, "Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time. Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one."

http://www.samessenger.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=709

Any thoughts?

Thursday, March 22, 2007

MOVIE OF THE WEEK

Who can ever forget the main characters, Sonny and Skiddy, in this modern western with a twist. A battle re-enactment turns into real life warfare as contemporary Cowboys and Indians battle it out.

Rent War Party (1988) today! (If you can find it.)

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

MONDAY WAS A HAPPY DAY INDEED

It didn't start out that way though. I spent the better part of Monday morning snaking the pipes under my house to clear a blockage which had caused sewage to back up into our carpeted downstairs bathroom. After much grunting, snaking, and perspiring I was rewarded with a gurgle-gurgle-whoosh and a clear pipe.

After lunch we drove to Hemet to tour a new museum they constructed off of the Domenigoni Parkway. Bowden was excited about seeing Dinosaur bones. Unfortunately, the museum was closed and the prospect of returning home without an adventure was more than our fragile frames could bear so we loaded up the van and drove to the Wild Animal park in San Diego (This adventure is brought to you by Nanny and her thoughtful gift of a years membership for the whole family to the zoo and wild animal park). After a liesurely stroll through the park we drove the short distance to the beach, and arrived just in time to build a sand castle and watch the setting sun drop beyond the Pacific.

We concluded our adventure over dinner at Joes Crab Shack, changed Lucy's diaper, and drove home through the darkness.

AT THE SAN DIEGO WILD ANIMAL PARK









SOME FUNNY LOOKING TURTLES




AT THE BEACH












POINT COUNTERPOINT

Today's Topic: The two Blue's Clues guys-
Josh: I like this guy the most.
Sarah: Nah, this guy is better.

I AM NOT A HELPLESS PIECE OF DEBRIS CAUGHT UP IN A CURRENT OF MISERY AND DESPAIR. I WILL KICK FOR THE SHORE.

THESE ARE THE DAYS OF MORAL CONFUSION.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

COVER DREAMS

I have two kinds of dreams which are distinct in theme and mood and which repeat themselves more frequently than other types of dreams. I am not one of those people who delights in sharing his dreams, nor am I one who ascribes much meaning to my nocturnal mental wanderings. These two types of dreams though stand out in their intensity vivdiness and frequency. I wonder why I have them. I call the first type "the Moose leg dreams." These are the hardest to explain so I will leave that for another day. The second type I call "cover dreams."

In my cover dreams something man made is always covered up by something natural. In the first cover dream I was walking through the woods when I saw something yellow on the ground. I dropped to my knees and began to brush away the moist leaves and soil to reveal a floor of wet yellow, blue and white tiles. They were perfectly arranged like they had once been the floor of a forgotten kitchen. Just a neat square of glistening tiles. That was all.

In the second cover dream there was a layer of yellow plastic under everything. It showed through on the edges such as banks, cliffs, river banks, lake shores, and the ruts in dirt roads. If you scuffed your feet in the dirt or dug much at all you would hit the layer of yellow plastic.

In the third cover dream I was raking leaves, and as I did discovered there was concrete where I had believed there was lawn. I was very surprised to find concrete- to the point of being dumbfounded. It was inconceivable that there was no lawn beneath the leaves.

In the most recent cover dream I was in a boat with Captain Renaudette (from my old police department). As we drifted under a bridge we noticed that moss was covering some white block lettering. We begin to scrape the moss off the underside of the bridge to reveal the lettering. We gathered the moss in milk crates. The dream had a pleasant feeling- like we were two boys at play- like we were building a fort or something. I don't remember what the word was or we never fully uncovered it. I don't remember. This is the only cover dream where I am not alone.

All of my cover dreams have occurred within the last year, while the Moose Leg Dreams have recurred over a span of nearly five years. I will try to explain Moose Leg Dreams in the near future. What do you think? I wish Daniel and Joseph were available to interpret these dreams. Of course, they would probably say "stop drinking Caffeine before bed."

WORKING ON CAMP MARANATHA'S SUMMER STAFF IS ALL ABOUT ACKNOWLEDGING WHAT CHRIST HAS DONE FOR YOU AND RESPONDING THROUGH SERVICE.