And What Did You Do This Weekend?

There is much to dislike about California, including $450K mortgages (on $150K houses), environmentalists on acid, and LA traffic. On the other hand, its cool to visit some of the places you heard about or saw on TV as a kid growing up. This weekend, we went to Knotts Berry Farm down in Orange County, just below LA (you guessed it, you have to go through LA traffic to get there). Anyway, after 2 hours of bumper to bumper, we arrived and stayed the night at the Knotts Hotel ($59 a night for 5--not too shabby). The amusement park is the oldest theme park in the country, 5 years older than the venerable 5o year-old Disneyland a couple of blocks away. We had a great time. Even ate at the famous Mrs. Knotts Fried Chicken Dinner Restaurant, which was full of locals who raved about the place. A nice place, and I suppose it probably is the best friend chicken in So. Cal. (Southern California, that is). Of course, I'm from South Carolina, so I left thinking they still have a bit to learn from the South about cooking. But many famous folks have signed the register there--Art Linkletter ("and all the Links," as he put it), Michael Landon, Bob Denver, etc. The bill was quite a bit steeper than KFC (who has much better chicken), but hey, I'm a sucker for history.

Sarah has a real problem that all of us should pray about--she cannot resist riding ridiculously fast roller coasters. So guess who got to be her partner for the first ride? The Ghost Rider is one of the tallest and fastet wooden roller coasters in the world, and having ridden it I can attest that it is the bumpiest too. Every joint in my 40 year old body ached as I crawled out of the car down the ramp. Sarah thought it was fun. Like I said, pray for her.

I'll fill you in on the rest of our long weekend, including Camp Snoopy, National Treasure and the Wizard of Oz, and Jesus' feet hanging out of heaven. And all of it will be true!

Thar She Goes!

Wanted to let you see what we got to experience on 19 Oct when the last of the Titans went up into space from Vandenberg. The burn from the rocket is blinding, and the thunder from the engines (which took about 15 seconds to reach us after we saw the liftoff 5 miles away) shook the ground under our feet. Never seen anything like it on this earth.The great thing as that all three girls saw/felt it to. Pretty cool to be 1o years old and watch a rocket blast off into space, eh Sarah?

This is also cool . . . and weird! It seems that James Doohan (Mr Scott on the orginal Star Trek) willed for his ashes (6 oz of them, at least) to be launched into space after he died. Well, Scotty gets his wish in December (probably a little later as the launch schedule has been pushed back) when a Falcon rocket will launch him into the Final Frontier from Vandenberg. Don't believe it? Check it out: http://www.startrek.com/startrek/view/news/article/13920.html
I just hope Scotty doesn't "fly her apart" over Lompoc and rain down on my house. Sorry folks--I'm a chaplain, not a comedian.

Drinking From the Firehose

We have a saying in the Air Force to the effect that life can sometimes be like trying to take a drink from a firehose. Believe me, after the last six weeks, we know the feeling:

• I went to SOS (Squadron Officer School) and got a sun tan. It was Fall in Alabama. Doesn't matter. It was still 90. How was SOS? Well, you take 475 captains, tell them that their careers could be on the line depending on their performance there, and watch the fratricide. Actually is wasn't that bad, but I was not that impressed with the whole shabang. Made some friends, alienated a few more (who just couldn't understand why the chaplain didn't want to hang out all evening, listen to them carpet "F" bomb, and watch them get smashed). All in all the AF can save money by consolidating that course with the one they send Lts through a couple of years before. Most of you folks couldn't care less about professional military education, so I'll move on.
• Leigh stayed home and got sick. So sick the doc told her to get out of the house . . . like for good. Its a long story as to how our home on base got so moldy, but let's just say housing repair contracting in the military goes to the lowest bidder. They not only fix leaks, they create them! So after a rather lengthy and exasperating row with CE, Bio Enviromental, and the Housing office, we were granted a move off base. Or I should say, Leigh, was granted a move (I was in Alabama, remember). After 15 years of marriage, you think you would know someone pretty well. Well I didn't know she had it in her. Moving rates at the top of the stress meter, just after driving in Jersey and Chinese water torture. But moving w/o your spouse, with 3 little girls in tow, while holding down a part-time teaching job, and dealing with the cretans who seem to populate some of the "support" agencies on a military base is off-the-chart stress. But SHE DID IT! Found an excellent house (1 yr old) where the rent was on sale (yeh, baby) and only 3 blocks from the Home Depot. Is this woman a gem or what?! Seriously, we give God all the glory on this one. Many helped, I prayed and cajoled from afar, but the Lord brought the family through this fire untouched. An awesome God, my friends.