Tag Archives: america

If they don’t believe he walked on the moon, then they won’t believe this.

Posted on
11

I’m not going to name any names, but I actually know some people who don’t believe we sent a man up in space to walk on the moon.

Just sayin’…

And this week, when I read about this whole Virgin Galactic thing, I thought: “This can’t be real. This has to be some article from The Onion or something.”

Do you know about this? This whole commercial spaceship situation?!

I first saw it in a tweet, linking to this post explaining that they JUST did a test “captive carry” flight with the commercial spaceship attached to the mothership, taking off and landing at the Mojave Air and Spaceport… And they are using words like this – like it’s normal everyday language, when right now my spellcheck doesn’t even recognize words like “mothership” and “spaceflight.” Go ahead, type them. They will be underlined in red.

Trying to prove that this is a joke, I hopped on to Virgin Galactic’s website and watched:

ARE YOU KIDDING?!

So I clicked the “Booking” page. (Eh, why not?) It’ll cost me $200,000 to make a spaceflight reservation on “the sexiest spaceship ever.” Don’t you think that’s a little low?

Seriously. I do think it’s a little low.

Before I picked up the phone to call one of their Accredited Space Agents (conveniently marked on every inhabited continent, with three in the state of Georgia. Three?!), my mind returned to the idea that this had to be a farce.

Of course, I’m reading this on the internet. And the number one rule states that we can’t believe everything we read on the internet.

And with today’s graphic illustration capabilities, we can’t even believe our own eyes.

But, you know what? This is America – where anything’s possible.

I guess the sky is no longer the limit.

And I guess my Mac spellchecker needs to get with the times.

I think I saw the future.

Posted on
18

I had a dream the other night. The kind of dream that sticks with you.

I was hanging out in a city. Urban. Cars. Sidewalks. Big buildings. Noise.

My friends were having a street concert. There were about 50 people gathered to listen. The concert was like an all-day music event. Slightly Christian, but not “preachy.” Just hanging out with good people, good culture, and good music.

A heckler in the crowd picked up on the fact that the musicians were Christian. And he started asking loud and not-so-nice questions. One of the musicians lost his cool and joined in the “debate” with this guy.

I knew things were going to get bad.

Shortly after that, a woman and a few “men-in-black” came on the scene. She and her boys were trying to stop the concert, shake up the crowd, and get the musicians to shut up. They started grabbing musicians by the arms.

That’s when I jumped in. I told her that she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just take them away for playing music.

She said she could. She was taking them to the police. She was some sort of politician or something. I told her to bring the police to us. “Where’s the police? Go get the police.”

Pushing and shoving us backwards, she and her boys were in our faces. We couldn’t stop them from moving us along. She was close enough for me to talk to her. I said we had a right to be there just like anybody else. She said we can’t proclaim our faith like that in the public square. She said we are in violation of others’ rights when we push our faith out like that.

I noticed her “we’s” and “our’s” were different. Like she was including herself in the “we.”

I asked if she was a Christian. “I can’t say that I am. Not in public like this.”

There was a flash of fear in her eyes. She’d been silenced by the Government.

Now, we were being silenced as well.

That’s when I woke up. And I couldn’t help but think that we aren’t far from that becoming a reality in our country. So I had to ask myself what would I do if that was a reality?

I don’t know the answer yet. I hope I would stand firm like I did in that dream.

What would you do?

Your own Reality TV show.

Posted on
3

Y’all.

This whole “balloon boy” drama is too much for me.

It’s like the news media has turned into a tabloid show.

(And we wonder why the world doesn’t take our country seriously anymore.)

(And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.)

Speaking of the “balloon boy” drama: If you could be on or have your own reality show, what would it be?

North vs. South: Churches

Posted on
11

I’ve been thinking a lot about the differences between New England and Southeast Georgia, especially since I’m now going back from one to the other. I’ve gotta get my brain there. I’ve gotta make the mental jump. I’m working on it. And y’all are going to work on it with me.

A few months ago, Janaki asked about the differences. I’m gonna answer her with a series of posts. Here’s the first:

Just down the road from our seminary sits a small steepled building, with wide swinging front doors and stained glass windows. Freshly whitewashed walls and manicured lawn. It once housed meetings every Sunday morning – now it houses a family. Residents. Living in a church.

I’ve never seen anything like this in the south. Sure, there probably is a church somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon line that’s been converted into a house, but I haven’t seen it.

I also haven’t seen mega-churches in New England. The big new shiny churches with parking lots larger than Super-Wal-Mart’s? Nada. I’m not sure how many of those exist in New England either.

So, um, what else do I need to think about in order to make this mental transition…? Help!

“If You Don’t Eat It…”

Posted on
19

I don’t like the traditional Thanksgiving meal.

Now, before you go and shoot me like a pilgrim chasing a wild turkey, let me tell you a story.

I was a little girl. We were at my mom’s parents’ house in Jacksonville, FL. Warm air. Green trees. Moss hanging on the oaks in their backyard. We usually passed the time playing Uno, watching football, and listening to the women chatter and stir in the kitchen. The house was always filled with energy, people, noise, and good cooking.

At some point we needed to make the annual Thanksgiving emergency grocery run. I guess we just HAD to have cranberry sauce or something unnecessary like that. I hopped in the car with my mom and her baby brother, and we were off. Pulling into the parking lot, I figured it’d be as good a time as any to confess that I don’t like all the food we have to eat every year.

Then, my mom, motivated by her most motherly of instincts, tells me that it’s absolutely unamerican to not eat the traditional Thanksgiving meal. She then reinforces this national value with claims that the police arrest any non-eaters. They patrol all the houses and lock up those who don’t eat this traditional meal. Immediately my mind began racing with vivid images of the cops coming around every year… Of their car parking in front of my grandma’s place. Of them coming in the house to find me obstinately refusing this sacred meal. This scared the living daylights out of me.

Obviously, she was kidding.

Obviously, I ate my belly-full with my on the front door.

Obviously, the cops never came.

Obviously, I’m hoping for spaghetti this year, but I have a feeling I’ll be eating turkey.

Obviously.