the world is bright and beautiful

I logged on to write something, but my mind is at the point where there is so much I could say so I don’t want to say anything. Do you get like that? I could blog about a hundred different things, so I can’t blog about anything. So how bout this? I really, really love my girlfriend Ricci. There, I said it. First thing that popped into my head. She’s prettier, smarter, funnier, and in possession of a greater fashion sense than any girl I’ve ever met. She can supervise a Starbucks without going entirely out of her mind, and if that doesn’t speak worlds about a person’s character, what does? We stay up all night talking about God and music. We watch scary-but-not-too-scary movies together and talk the whole time because of how scared we are. We drive nowhere. We sing together. We drink more coffee than most adults over 50 combined. We will probably end up doing something or some many things extraordinary together. So maybe I can blog a little after all.

One of my fellow Mac Specialists, and young gal named Katrina, just came into the back room where I am eating leftover Little Ollie’s chicken and told me “I’m surprised you’re not vegetarian. You just…you seem like you would be vegetarian.” Now, I really am not sure how to feel. Is this offensive? Should I retaliate? What kind of people make better vegetarians? Is there a “type?” I mean, there must be because I apparently fit into it. I am very, very puzzled by this statement.

Why do Christian bands suck? What is with the endless foray of Kutlees/Thousand Foot Krutch clone bands? Those weren’t good bands, and yet somewhere along the way somebody decided that power chords, crappy guitar tone and monotone indistinct vocals were the way to “carry the gospel.” Well you know what? Bands like that don’t carry the gospel, because the only people who listen to them are the 14 year old smelly kids who are already christians and the 40 year old guitar players who think that that music “rocks” and then start up their own band called “Seperate” or “Sanctified” or something like that, and then continue to pander to the smelly kids and the 40-year olds. Well, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of crappy, lame, unoriginal Christian bands who’s only fans are crappy, unoriginal people. There. I said it. If you wonder why musicians and artists feel so largely left out of church, it is because of this God-awful low standard we have allowed to enter and fester and degrade our tastes. Throw out your Kutless and pick up an Atomic Bomb, it will be the greatest service you do to the local church.

I don’t honestly know why Copeland’s cover of “Take My Breath Away” was the first song to pop in my head, but it was, and I’m okay with that. Today has been a very good day. This morning’s services at the Journey went pretty good, our fill-in bassist plucked along without missing anything and we were able to really sit back and let the kids on the “other” side of the stage carry the songs and carry worship. I love being able to step away from the mic and hear voices singing out; it lets me know that God is actually moving and doing a work in our kids and that I’m more than a talking (singing) head with a stratocaster…did you like that segue? Ricci and I brought home my new baby boy Friday. He’s a happy, healthy MIM Fat Strat (don’t knock the mexicans, I lucked out on this particular strat) with brown sunburst finish. He looks and sounds wonderful, and after a few minor tweaks he’ll be playing incredibly as well. I’ll hopefully get some pictures up soon. Today was an incredibly musical day for me. Worship this morning, and then Ricci and I spent a lot of time practicing singing together. She and I are leading worship for a Teen CBS group in our area and got rolling on harmonization, and I can honestly say that we sounded amazing. She’s got a remarkably sweet and clear voice (imho) and knows how to use it. Another mysteriously wonderful blessing…I’m super excited for Teen CBS tuesday when we will drop a harmonious bomb on the kids there. In Jesus’ Name. I love that woman.

This is Barge time. Yesterday morning I left my house at 6am to pick up my good buddy Sam and head to coffee. And I was shivering. I ran to my car and cranked up the heater. The sun was waking up and starting its daily climb, every bird was singing its little bird song, and I was cold. There was frost on my windows. I was wishing I’d remembered a hoodie. I know that today is overcast and probably chilly. I may wear a scarf into work. Why does scarf look like barf? I don’t know. But fall is here people. Time for bundled walks, hot chocolate, scarves and songwriting. This is my time.