Letters from Kamp Krusty

Ancient Wisdom for No One in Particular

I'm hereby offering advice to no one in particular.  No one asked for it, and no one should vainly imagine themselves its intended audience.  So be not offended.  I didn't have you in mind.  You probably think this song is about you?  Don't you?  Don't you?

Put Your Dang Kids to Bed

Seriously.  You can do it.

If you want to have a marriage with some zing, put your dang kids to bed.  Put them to bed EARLY. Put them to bed on time, the same time, every night, and make them stay there. 

Then, go goof off with your wife.  Laugh and talk and unwind and watch "Walker, Texas Ranger" until you can't laugh anymore.  Be unproductive.  Smooch.  Do this every night.

Your kids need to sleep, and they can sleep.  They actually don't have to get up every ten minutes.  They're just doing that to get attention and delay bedtime.  Don't allow it, or you're a pansy.

This gives you -- and, more importantly, your wife -- some peaceful time, every day, to look forward to.  Moreover, it lets you stay happily married.  She's under less stress, you have time to connect, life is good, your marriage means something, and you remember you're not just roomies with junior-size roomies running around.

Don't just "help" with bedtime.  Supervise it, entirely.  Let your wife use that time as wind-down time, or to take care of last-minute things.  Kids will want to make bedtime an endless parade of traditions, too, in order to stave it off.  Don't let this happen.  Make it as simple a process as possible.  If you want to read a story, awesome!  Just start early enough that the lights go off at the appointed time.  Your kids will start to complain.  Too bad.  Lights off.  Sweet dreams.  Buh-bye.

Let them know that your time with your wife trumps all other considerations, and, after their bedtime, they are "other considerations."   Kids resist this, but -- deep down -- positively love it.

7 p.m. is not too early for young children.  Give yourself a couple hours together, not one or two nights a week, but five or six. 

If she's stressed out every night, because of her job, let her quit her job.  If you can't afford it, afford it.  Sell stuff.  Move.  Rent.  Forget the college fund.  Don't buy dumb cars and houses and stuff to make yourself feel cool, and miss out on a joyous, stress-limited marriage.  She can take care of herself.  It'll give her time, and energy, to love her children, her neighbors, and you.

So you bought her a nice car?  Who gives a rip?  She'd rather drive an old mini-van and have you around, living life together at a sweet, beautiful pace.  Even if she doesn't think she wants this, she does.

Quit buying crap and live in a trailer if you have to.  And put your trailer-kids to bed, for crying out loud.  Don't let them get up unless it's an emergency.  Smooch your wife.

There.  Sheesh.

I'm on Hiatus, But Here's My Second Post of the Day

Exactly.

Couldn't have said it better myself.  I mean, I did solve global poverty with a modest proposal, but this writer makes the point more gracefully with his "Parable of the Good-Looking Samaritan."  (HT:  Fay)

And I love the idea:  Buy less crap.  Give more.  Imagine that.

I'm Still on Hiatus, but This Makes it All Better

Yeah, I'm still sick of me.  But I'm not sick of this guy.  Oh no.

Holy COW, this rocks.  (Memo to Shaun Groves:  Cover this.  NOW.)

I'm on Hiatus, But Here are Some Snuggling Nigerian Dwarf Milk Goats

You may have noticed I'm not posting much, lately.

This is because I'm very busy.  And -- bonus! -- I'm sick of myself.  Imagine yammering on-air for hours a day, every ding-darn day.  I weary of my own "voice", both my literal one and my writing voice.  (And I started a new "work-blog" that I have to post to, inspired or no.)

Anyway, I'll be back, soon.  Meantime:  Snuggling Nigerian dwarf milk goats.

For you. 

Just kinda my way of saying, "Hey, I'm a little burnt out right now, but all is good, and I like Nigerian dwarf milk goats, especially when they snuggle, and God's still in control, and I think I'm just going to chill at some spring training games for a bit, and I'm honored that anyone would ever read my blog, and I hope you're doing well, and check out these Nigerian dwarf milk goats, God bless you."

You know how it is.

24 Theater: A Very Special Edition

This week's Family Friendly 24 Theater features a special guest star:  The very cool Candace Cameron Bure, formerly "DJ Tanner" on "Full House".

Plus:  Jack tortures some Russian guy!

Click here on this link thing to listen, take it all in, and wonder how I got a job in radio.

Dropping Like a Rock

A friend of mine did something really, really bad a couple years ago.  Real bad.  not illegal bad, but...bad enough that even this week, it showed up on page two of a metro newspaper, a thousand miles away from where he did it.

I love this guy.  He's fun, smart, and fairly new to Christian belief.  He's accepted responsibility for what he did, and he's had to live with it every day.  He told me the other day he was sorry even I was having to deal with it now.  "I'm amazed how many people this has affected.  One stupid, wrong decision I made and it keeps affecting so many people.  My wife, my kids...it just keeps going."

And so it does.

We marvelled at that, and, just stood there, quietly, just shaking our heads.  Amazing?  Yes.  But not really surprising.

The older I get, the more convinced I am there is no private sin.  They don't all wind up on page two, but the surface of the pond is never undisturbed by the pebble.  The ripples move well beyond ourselves, and, in many cases they radiate through generations. 

Or, another recent example:  One day, you're a minister getting in a quick ego-stroking flirt, thinking you're in some kind of private soap opera...and soon, there are 300 people in a flourescent-lit room, on metal folding chairs, discussing what you did.  And they're cautioning each other not to judge you, and then they talk some more about what you did.

And then, some little kid you dont even know, like Julia Hansen, has to hear some stranger talking in church about how the pastor-guy won't be back, he did something called "sexual misconduct."  Your soap opera?  It wasn't private.

Sins on the computer aren't private.  Larry Ellison, from Oracle, said years ago:  If you think he doesn't know what's on your hard drive, you're kidding yourself.  By the way, Google knows, too.

But even if they didn't know, the sins in your head aren't private.  Mine affect my attitude.  They keep me from being concerned about other people.  They make me a jerk, in seemingly unrelated ways.  ("Why's Brant a jerk?"  "Probably something seemingly unrelated.")

There is no "private sin".  Turns out few things have done more harm than the "do no harm" ethic.  The as-long-as-it-doesn't-hurt-anyone-else construction of morality is built atop the swamp of affluence.  We afford this lie, because affluence loves not only privacy, but the fantasy of it.  But like the 77's said, "The lust, the flesh, the eyes, and the pride of life -- drain the life right out of me."

And then...I'm not the person I'm supposed to be.  I'm less creative.  I'm less joyful.  I have less social energy.  My patience is gone.  I care less about my neighbors.

Private rebellion.  Public consequence.  And if it seems unfair that what my friend did was so horrible, but what you or I do in our minds is somehow not so horrible -- well, you agree with Jesus.  There IS no difference.

The ripple metaphor works.  There's a better one, really, for what our "private" sins do to other, but I don't want to gross you out with a picture of a fan being hit by organic material.  I have higher standards than that.  Plus, I googled for 20 minutes and couldn't find one.

No Fair

I can't put it much better than the Church Fair Guy did.

They were having a FunFair-thing at some church down here, and, from the street, is was very appealing to kids.  I'm sure it was well-intended.  And kids were excited! 

But, it turned out:  No FunFair without a mandatory show first.  Some thoughtful parents weren't comfy with this, because their kids were a bit young for the show.  But the church fair guy said, "I can't let you in unless you watch some of the show."

Somehow, that just says it all.  No party, unless you watch our show. 

And make no mistake:  We're going to have a show.  Yes, we know you are looking for something you need, something you yearn for, deep down...but we have this show, starring -- let's see, here...uh -- us.   And we put a lot of work into it.

We could just let you in, let you party, let you laugh and play.  We could even laugh and play together!  But we have this thing, this way of doing things, and if you don't dig it -- you're not in.

But we're sure you'll find what you're looking for -- really looking for -- elsewhere.

This, too, has a whiff of familiarity.