That could be annoying. Sometimes Mom would jettison things I liked. One time I discovered that the fossil collection I’d assembled during a sixth grade science trip had disappeared. Never mind that it had been sitting untouched in a box for several years. What if I wanted to pull it out and explain the attributes of a Pecten raimondi to my friend? OK, never mind. Maybe it was smart that Mom gave those fossils away.

She also got rid of my 10-speed bike. Well, it wasn’t exactly assembled at the time. I had taken it apart to adjust some things that weren’t working right. Because I didn’t get around to reassembling the bike, out it went. Later I found out Mom gave the parts to my older brother, who put the bike together and sold it! Sheesh, leave something lying around in pieces for a couple of years, and she gets all impatient.

I was thinking about this because my wife and I recently made the mistake of attempting to clean out our garage. Digging into boxes that hadn’t seen daylight for a decade, I suddenly realized that Mom was a woman of great wisdom and foresight. I wished we’d followed her example of getting rid of stuff in a timely manner.

I found a stack of old record albums and seven or eight boxes of books. I also uncovered two almost-new air mattresses for camping. This was funny, by which I mean irritating, because a few days earlier we had bought yet another camping mattress to send with our daughter on a youth trip. Dear Mother, you were right. If we kept things organized like you did, we wouldn’t always be buying extras of items we can’t find.

Now we’ve cleared out room to collect new books, and opened space in our garage to gather more junk. Oops, scratch that last part.

I hope. The natural tendency, of course, is to hang on to the old stuff and keep adding more. Down the street from us a bunch of new houses have been built with three-car garages. This is so residents can park their cars…outside. That way the garage can be piled high with boxes, bikes, boats, barstools and whatnot, the way nature intended.

Cleaning out my garage, I’ve realized there are other parts of my life that can get cluttered with old stuff. My mind can harbor outdated assumptions and prejudices, for example. I was impressed recently when my kids returned from a mission trip to a diverse urban area. They explained how serving in such a place changed their perspectives on immigration, poverty and homelessness. They learned to be more compassionate. That warmed my heart, but also reminded me to keep pursuing new ideas and opportunities in my own life.

Speaking of my children, I need to keep shedding old ways of relating to them. They’re both in high school and have long ceased to be little kids. Most of the time. As they grow into adulthood, I learn to give them more trust and ind, uh, inde, ahem, indepen, cough, independence. Whew, that’s hard. Hey, I’m trying to be more mature too, just like they are.

I also need to toss my old ideas about getting old. I never worried much about aging before, but lately that’s changed. After injuring my knee while skiing last March, I began to feel fragile. I was whining about this to a friend when he reminded me that I was upright and active, still married to my first wife and remembered which end to play on my guitar. So everything was cool.

True. I’ve tried to keep those things in mind, even when I feel a little ancient. But my knee has healed and my mind is, uh, what’s the word, oh yeah, sharp. I’m no fossil yet. There’s still a lot of living to do.

There is a common saying that goes, “Lead, follow or get out of the way.” That means you should lead if you can, but if you can’t then follow the leader. But don’t be a stick-in-the-mud who stands around and grumbles. Move it along or move it out, dude, you’re slowing everyone down!

When it comes to leading, following or getting out of the way, I can tell you what I prefer to do. Get out of the way. Whoops, I’m not supposed to admit that, right? I should try to be a dedicated leader or a cooperative follower. Mostly I’ve been both. I’ve led a lot of things and followed others who have led. But lately I’ve wondered if it’s worth the effort. In these flakey, faddish times, getting out of the way actually sounds pretty good.

These are tough times for leaders and followers. If you want to be a leader, you’d better get ready for the barrage of passive resistance and outright criticism. Criticism has become so popular in our culture that it’s created an entire literary genre known as blogging. Anyone who enters even the slightest wedge of limelight becomes a target for cheap shots and rotten tomatoes. It’s a wonder that anyone wants to be a leader these days, with all the negativity and nitpicking it attracts.

Following isn’t much easier. For one thing, what do you follow? There are thousands of possibilities. There’s a new craze called Twitter, for instance, where people write mini-blogs about the breathless excitement of their daily lives. (“Eating a taco. Yum. Comments?”) Those who sign up to receive the blogs and type feedback are actually called “followers.” There was a buzz recently when actor Ashton Kutcher and news provider CNN raced to get a million followers on their respective Twitter accounts. Kuthcer won. Which makes sense. CNN merely gives information on world events, whereas Ashton Kutcher is famous for his cultural contributions towards, uh, being Ashton Kutcher.

So maybe it isn’t accurate to say there are thousands of things to follow out there. Probably more like millions. Getting out of the way—way out of the way—sounds better all the time.

But I suppose it’s not the answer. I guess that’s why I usually end up leading or following even when I feel ambivalent about the whole thing. Somebody has to do it. Though it can be an exasperating job, leaders are needed to step up and show us the way. Though there’s risk involved, followers are needed to throw their support behind visionaries who can change the world, or at least their little corner of it.

For what it’s worth, here are a few reflections on leading and following from a longtime leader and follower. I mean me, in case you thought you were finally going to hear from someone smart. Sorry about that. On to the thoughts.

• First, it’s OK to be a reluctant leader, maybe even preferable. I get worried when someone is too eager to lead. This person might be in it for ego or prestige more than the good of the people. When reluctant leaders fret about their worthiness for the job, it shows they care. They want what’s best for the followers and don’t want to let them down.

• Second, it’s important to be a discerning follower. We shouldn’t run after personalities or trends merely because they are popular at the moment. We should, you know, think a little. Perhaps celebrities aren’t the best role models for doing life. Maybe entertainment isn’t the most important thing we could pursue. There are all kinds of things we can follow without a second thought. Better to have a second thought, and then a third thought, in order to follow wisely.

• Third, it’s all right to get out of the way sometimes. Leaders need to take breaks to regain energy and perspective. They also need to sense when it’s appropriate to step aside to let new leaders take over. Followers need to get out of the way after they’ve taken on too many responsibilities and shouldered too heavy a load. A time of rest and reflection can help restore their strength and passion to serve.

• Fourth, it’s not good to get out of the way and stay there. Sometimes I feel like doing that. Forget the leading or following, I’m outta here. Let someone else deal with all the hassles and heartaches of trying to do good in the world. I have these feelings, but then I get over them. If we don’t try to do good, love God and help others, what else is there to get done? Nothing nearly as worthwhile and fun, if you ask me.

Which leaves me with one last thing to write. I am now ready to go eat my taco. Comments?

What my cell phone ringtone — among other things — says about me

You can tell that the woman’s ringtone reflects her loving personality, the movie guy’s ringtone expresses his sense of humor and the Obama man’s ringtone achieves his life-goal of irritating people. That’s what their ringtones say about them.

This makes me wonder: What does my ringtone say about me? It’s a pleasant arpeggio of chimes. Does this say I’m a courteous sort who doesn’t feel the cultural compulsion to annoy people? Or does it say I’m boring because I don’t have some signature ring like, Play that Funky Music White Boy? Perhaps it reveals something deeper, such as, “I spent eight seconds picking a tone because all I really want my ringtone to say is, My Phone is Ringing.”

I’d heard there are other things that say something about me. My car, for example. The one who drives a Lexus says that he is a classy person who appreciates quality and comfort. The owner of a giant pickup with balloon tires declares she is an outdoorsy type who might flatten your Prius. Similarly, what I say by driving a generic silver Honda Accord is, “I am driving a generic silver Honda Accord, because I couldn’t afford both a Lexus and a house so I chose the house.”

Which reminds me, my house also says something about me. The owners of a beach house say, “We need a second home that’s twice as big and fancy as your main house to show we can get away from our hectic urban lifestyle even though we won’t.” The owners of a country villa say, “We want to be close to the land and have enough space to ride our horses through the fields and in our giant master bathroom.” What my house says is, “Creak. Squeak. Paint me. Wait ‘till I surprise you with the next big thing you’ll have to fix.” I really do like my house, but sometimes I wish it would keep quiet.

My clothes say something about me. The one who comes to work wearing crisp slacks and a blazer declares, “I am a professional and will give 100 percent effort to every task.” Someone who dresses in casual khaki or denim says, “I work hard but also take time to relate and reflect.” What I say as I step out the door and head to my office is, “Thank goodness I remembered to wear pants!” That’s not a cheap joke about old guys; it’s a cheap joke about me. I’ve had nightmares about leaving the house with no pants since second grade.

The way I express my faith says something about me. This has changed over the years. I showed my faith as a kid by wearing short pants, wing-tipped shoes and a skinny tie, which said, “I’m a total church nerd who attends four services a week.” As a teen during the Jesus Movement, I wore big hair, bell-bottomed jeans and carried a large Bible with a fuzzy cover. This said, “I don’t know what the deal is with the fuzzy Bible cover either, so don’t ask.”

During my early 20s I went through a period when I told everyone how they should practice their faith, because at the time I was fortunate enough to know everything. What this said about me was, “I’m so obnoxious I even annoy myself, but I’ll be better once I get married and stop knowing everything.”

These days I don’t wear wingtips or big hair, and I no longer carry a fuzzy Bible. And since I know less than I ever did, I try to avoid telling people how to live. Thank goodness. There are lots of new Christian accessories I could wear or display and plenty of ways I could tell people what to do without actually doing it myself. But what those things would say about me might not be so great.

I want to be a guy someone can talk to rather than some dude with a cool ringtone. I want my good attitude and thoughtful words to say more about me than how I dress. I’d prefer that my courteous driving would display more about my faith than a fish symbol on the bumper.

Let me explain. Of course I felt bad for my son because his car would need body work. But Seth would get to use my car while I drove a rental provided by the other party’s insurance company. I figured they’d give me some sort of dull compact. It would be Seth’s gain. As a minor he couldn’t legally drive a rental car, so he’d enjoy my comfy Honda Accord for a week.

However, when I dropped off Seth’s car at the shop the rental provided to me turned out to be a Ford Mustang with cool racing stripes. That’s when I got happy. And Seth got bummed. Sorry about that, son, but thanks for parking in the wrong place at the wrong time so I could cruise around in an awesome sports car!

I’m not a car guy, but driving that Mustang was pretty sweet. It felt tough and muscular; my Honda seems kind of meek and plain. “Maybe I should get a sports car,” I thought. I am about the right age to start a midlife crisis.

Then it snowed. We get a big snowfall in our city about once a decade, so we have maybe two snowplows in town. A lot of the roads don’t get cleared. No problem for my front-wheel-drive Honda. For the Mustang—problem. At one point I backed it out of my driveway into the snowy street, put the car in gear, and…nothing. I put it in reverse to get some traction and…nothing. I put it back in drive and pressed ever so lightly on the gas pedal and…nothing. That is, nothing but the spinning of the rear wheels.

Life is like that, isn’t it? The things we think we want we end up not wanting, and things we think we don’t want are what we really want after all.

When I was in high school, for instance, I wanted to get into a real rock band that toured and made albums. And what do you know: A year after I graduated that dream came true. Then I found out being in a band involved more than just jamming on my guitar all day. We had to practice a lot and line up gigs and drive all night and wrestle heavy sound gear up and down stairs. It was a lot of work. Though I stuck with it and things turned out all right, there were times I really wondered why I ever wanted to be in a band.

In my early 20s, I thought I never wanted to get married. I liked women well enough, but the idea of living with one seemed too complicated. Then one day I suddenly changed my mind when I met the woman of my dreams. Wanting to get married just required meeting the right girl.

I thought I might want to have children. Possibly. As the youngest sibling in my family, I never spent much time around infants. They kind of scared me. But when I held my newborn son for the first time, it was all OK. I knew right away I’d like being a parent. Which was a good way to feel, because once you get a baby they tend to stay around for a while.

Several times I thought I wanted to quit going to church. Not just for a Sunday here or there, but for good. As a pastor’s son, I got sick of showing up for every church event there was. When I got older I thought I might leave it all behind. Then as a teenager, I finally realized church was about relationships, and I wanted to stay. Getting to know God and hanging out with my fellow believers became a desirable thing.

Since then, though, there have been times I’ve felt frustrated with church and wanted to quit again. But each time this happened, what I thought I wanted turned out not to be what I really wanted. I’d be lost without the fellowship of believers to provide wisdom and give support and occasionally knock me out of my comfort zone.

January also marks the beginning of the new year, when I always feel a wave of enthusiasm. I’m invigorated by visions of new activities to try, fresh opportunities to pursue and unfinished projects to complete. It’s really annoying. If it weren’t for the temporary feelings of optimism that come over me, January would be perfect.

Normally I’m a skeptical type of guy who prefers to expect the worst. Or at least the not-so-great. That way when something good happens, it can come as a pleasant surprise. But in spite of myself, I find a new year to be an inspiring time to rethink my priorities. I really will organize the garage this year, or spend an hour a day doing devotions or write that book I’ve been thinking about.

This leads to something I do every year that I always say I’m not going to do every year. Writing New Year’s resolutions. In theory I’m against it. Things worth doing should be done all year round, not just at certain motivational junctures. My friend the fitness trainer says that January always fills his club with new clients who want to get in shape after the holiday eating frenzy. Then about April the clientele falls off. That bothers my friend, who says people should maintain their health and fitness all the time rather than for a couple of months after Christmas.

He’s right, of course. Yet with New Year’s resolutions I do exactly what would bug my friend. I make them in an inspirational moment and then heartlessly abandon them a few months later.

Something I’ve heard is that people should try to be realistic when setting goals for the future. They shouldn’t try to overreach, which inevitably leads to failure. That sounds sensible. So this year I’m going to make some resolutions I know I can keep.

First, I resolve to not become a victim of “TiVo guilt.” This is a troubling syndrome I read about that’s sweeping the nation. For those of you who aren’t into the latest gadgets, TiVo is a brand of digital video recorder that allows television viewers to save an abundance of television shows for watching later. But a lot of viewers are filling up their TiVos and not getting a chance to watch the shows. Which makes them feel guilty. Oh, the horror!

I’m pretty sure avoiding TiVo guilt is a vow I can keep. Especially since I don’t own a TiVo. And the only TV show I record on my ancient VCR is American Idol. (It’s for my wife and daughter! Really!)

Second, I resolve to not worry about where LeBron James will end up in 2010. One of the biggest basketball stars and product endorsers on the planet, James is committed to play for the NBA’s Cleveland Cavaliers through next season. But there’s a huge controversy going on about whether James will leave Cleveland in 2010 to seek a bigger stage playing for the New York Knicks. Cleveland fans are already crying “unfair” while Knicks fans are gloating like it’s a done deal.

When I read the constant headlines about this I can’t help thinking, “Aren’t there things going on in the world that might be a teeny bit more worrisome?” About LeBron James’ future, then, I vow to care less. If that’s even possible.

Third, I resolve not to take naps at work. This one is tricky due to the universal temptation to doze at one’s desk after lunch. Since my office has open workstations where everyone can see me, however, napping isn’t a good idea.

But you never know. I read about a study concluding that taking naps at work is more effective for staying alert than drinking coffee. Maybe I should suggest to my boss that we switch out our desk chairs with comfy recliners so we can increase our alertness. Yeah, I’m sure that will go over well. Coffee, anyone?

Finally, I resolve to keep my priorities straight. “Aha,” you might be thinking, “there is a resolution you cannot keep. Because we humans are far from perfect, we can’t possibly keep our priorities straight all the time.”

Exactly. It’s by not being able to keep my priorities straight that I keep my priorities straight. When I get overwhelmed or go off track or mess something up, I go to God for help. And shouldn’t God always be our number one priority? There you go. As the Apostle Paul wrote, “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done” (Phil. 4:6 NLT).

For this year or any new year, that about covers it.

Well, I’m here to help. Following are some fresh ideas for your holiday activity list.

First, you can have conversations with your friends. You might be thinking, “I always talk about Christmas with my friends.” Maybe so, but do you talk about the reason for the season? No, not the joy of eggnog appearing on the supermarket shelves. I mean Jesus. Aha, forgot about him, didn’t you?

A lot of people do. Strange as it seems, Jesus doesn’t get that much publicity this time of year. Christmas is supposed to be about his birth, but a lot of folks hardly notice. That’s why I’m rehearsing the following script to slip into my conversations:

Me: So how are you going to celebrate the birthday of the most influential teacher in history, who was sentenced to death for his radical ideas yet lives again to save us from ourselves and help us live lives of thoughtful service rather than selfish materialism?

My friend: Whuh?

Me: I mean, how are you going to celebrate Christmas?

My friend: First I’m going to drag a pine tree into my house and hang stuff on it, then I’m going to string up enough lights on my house to illuminate a small nation, then I’m going to shop for odd presents, then I’m going eat enough to feed two small nations, and finally I’m going to wonder how I got born into such a weird family. You know, the usual.

Me: Yeah, same here.

The second thing you can do for the holidays is rearrange your nativity scene. Something I’ve noticed about Christmas pageants and nativity scenes is that they don’t always have a high degree of biblical accuracy. Like, what’s with the shepherds wearing bathrobes? I thought they were out in the fields watching their flocks, not just getting out of the shower.

Even more puzzling are the “three wise men” that show up in the stable where Jesus was born. The Bible doesn’t say there were three of those guys, or that they came to the manger. The wise men, however many there were, actually visited Jesus anywhere from months to a couple of years later at a house where his family was staying.

So if you have a nativity scene on display in your home, here’s how to fix it. Just take the wise men from the stable and move them to the ceramic Christmas village you have in the other room. You could place them at the front door of a likely looking house where Jesus might be. Just look for the place with a star overhead.

The third thing you could do is raise a glass of beer in honor of the holidays. “Whoa,” you might be saying. “I won’t drink beer in celebration of Christmas!” Well, you might not, but plenty of other people will. Apparently it isn’t so taboo for people of faith to enjoy alcoholic beverages anymore. I read about a church in Washington, D.C., that even started offering its own house brew for the popular “pub lunches” it served after Sunday morning services. For a Christmas fundraiser the church also brewed a batch of spiced ale that sold out immediately.

I also read about a Midwestern church that started to hold outreach gatherings at a microbrewery. As you might expect, those events went over well with the young adults the church was trying to reach. As you also might expect, it caused conniptions among the church’s denominational authorities.

That’s understandable on the grounds that Jesus wouldn’t approve of doing ministry in a place where alcoholic beverages are enjoyed, right? He was at that wedding, for instance, where guests drank so much wine they ran out and Jesus had to make more…oh wait, that’s not a good example of Jesus condemning drinking. Well, at the last supper Jesus passed wine around to his disciples and…. OK, another bad example. Hmm. Let me try to find the Bible verse that prohibits sharing the gospel in a microbrewery, and then I’ll get back to you.

One more thing you could try this holiday season is going to the beach to search for the face of Jesus in a seashell. That’s what one woman found in Florida, and she claims she’s been having good luck ever since.

I need to locate a shell like that. Since I’m heading out right now to find Christmas gifts for a bunch of people who don’t need anything, I’ll need all the luck I can get.

OK, I really do know the names of the candidates, and there were more than a couple of news stories. Maybe there were five or six. Anyway, you who are reading this already know the names of the new president and vice-president taking office in January. But I don’t know yet because I’m writing this before the election.

And from where I sit (the midnight blue sofa in the living room) it’s hard to tell who’s going to win. Or even for whom I’m going to vote.One day the Republican nominees say something good and I think I’m going to vote for them. The next day the Democrats say something sensible and my vote starts leaning that way. The day after that there are goofy statements from both sides my vote starts to feel wary and skittish.

I suppose that makes me one of those undecided folks. And I’m not even sure if I’ve decided how to decide to quit being undecided. Or something like that. If I count up the things I like and don’t like about the opposing candidates, the tally comes out even. How do I break the tie? I’m running out of time to figure out which way my vote will go (easy now, little vote, easy).

Maybe I should try looking past the issues of the day and delve more deeply into the character and integrity of the nominees. I could do research into their public service backgrounds and observe their relationship skills and decision-making techniques and—oh never mind. That sounds like too much work. Instead I’ll just award the candidates points based on snap judgments, shallow public perceptions and random news bytes. You know, the same thing everyone else does these days.

For example, I read that vice-presidential nominee Sarah Palin wears cool eyeglasses. Demand for her designer frames has increased so much that the manufacturer can’t keep up. And also, the “red peep-toe 3-inch heels” she wears (which I think are shoes) have jumped 50 percent in sales. Since fashion trendsetting is critical for getting mentioned in prominent political publications such as People Magazine, Palin gets one point.

I also noticed that Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama made a little blunder when mentioning his wedding anniversary. During a speech he mistakenly said he would be celebrating his 15th anniversary, which was one year short. I guess you could argue that’s a good gaffe. “Honey, our marriage is so exciting it feels like we’ve been married only 15 years rather than 16!” But I’m still giving Obama minus one point for his shaky memory. What if he’d forget where he put the remote for launching a nuclear missile or something?

But forgetting your anniversary number isn’t as big a booboo as bringing down the entire global economy. That’s what people believe the Republicans did, according to polls. I hadn’t realized that only Republicans abused their credit, defaulted on their mortgages, approved risky bank loans and took ridiculous severance pay. But there you go. So for being an economy-wrecking Republican, presidential nominee John McCain gets minus one point.

Obama gets a point back, though, for being the candidate parents would prefer to be their child’s schoolteacher. An actual poll was conducted to figure that out. You may wonder why. Well, it’s obvious that such a poll would help Americans discern that…. OK, I have no idea why. Personally, I’d prefer to have my kids’ real teachers teach their classes rather than some boring politician. Still, Obama gets one point for being, um, teacherly.

Let's check the point totals so far. Crud, still tied. Using random information might not be so great for making an important decision after all. I guess I’ll have to figure out another way to decide how to vote.

But none of this matters to you readers, because for you the election is over. So I offer one more decision. If you don’t like how things turned out, you can (1) complain, criticize and forward nasty e-mails about the new heads of state or (2) respect the new leaders, pray for them and stop the gossip when it comes your way. Only one of these choices comes straight from the Bible. I’m just saying.

But I guess I’m no expert when it comes to judging athletic performances. I found that out on one of the sports Web sites where I read the rants of a columnist who had different feelings than me about coming in second and third. Let’s just say he didn’t like it. And don’t even get him started about finishing fourth. How could athletes go all the way to Beijing and finish one place off the medal stand? Losers.

Well, it was a good thing the columnist pointed out that second and third place were so lousy, because I would have just gone on thinking that silver and bronze medals were cool. Shows you how little I know. I assumed this writer must have once been a great swimmer to offer such incisive opinions about the pitiful Olympian who couldn’t win. But when I looked at the writer’s bio line, I didn’t see anything about swimming at all. I guess he was just being modest.

Then I saw that other sportswriters were also taking shots at Olympic athletes and their dubious achievements. One of our U.S. teams only got a silver medal in its event and was condemned for making unacceptable mistakes. Olympic athletes just couldn’t stumble around like that, you know, because that would make them human or something.

And then there was our basketball team. We were expected to win gold, but several writers groused that the team would fail because it was winning its preliminary games by a measly 30 or 40 points. Plus the team’s past Olympic performances were checkered. Oh sure, the U.S. had won just about every basketball gold medal there was through the year 2000. But then in 2004 they only got a bronze! What a joke! Fortunately we did finally capture the gold medal in Beijing. Anything less might have set off a catastrophic famine or tidal wave.

After those sportswriters enlightened me about the Olympics, I began to realize there were experts everywhere pointing out all of the world’s incompetence. A common trait many of these experts had, I noticed, was that they possessed no experience or education in the subject areas they were criticizing. People who had never served in public office condemned all politicians. Folks who had never been teachers trashed the education system. Those who couldn’t play a note said all the singers and bands were terrible.

People who had never set foot in a church concluded all Christians were hypocrites. Folks who did go to church but never served in any ministries complained that all the programs and worship services were lousy. And so on.

Though I appreciate experts who don’t know anything giving me advice I didn’t ask for, the general spirit of criticism taking over our culture worries me a little. Sometimes I wonder if it might be better to, you know, think a little bit before we speak or write or opinionate. I know thinking isn’t a popular pastime these days. It can be kind of a pain in the head.

But it’s really not so bad. We all have a lot of unused brain cells that could probably stand a workout.

There are certain advantages to thinking. For one thing, I can ask myself questions before I let any actual words escape from my mouth. First, do I really have any idea what I’m talking about? If not, maybe I should keep quiet. In my case that may mean keeping quiet for weeks at a time, but those are the breaks.

Second, should I tell people to live or act a certain way when I don’t understand their situation and really don't live that way myself? Probably not. If I was out there busting my butt to win an Olympic medal, for instance, and some couch potato was blogging condemnations from his comfy armchair, I can’t say I’d take it very well.

Finally, should I stop listening to the critics and start looking for ways to encourage people and develop a positive outlook? Absolutely. There are many good things in the world. To see that I may need to stop staring so much at these computer windows and try looking out a few more real windows.

 
Lately I’ve been thinking I should go back to the funny stuff. There are telltale signs that I’ve gotten too uptight. My wife and kids keep telling me to “lighten up” and “take a deep breath.” Whenever a cell phone rings I tend to flinch and gasp. When I look in the mirror I think, “Who’s that wigged-out dude glaring back at me?”

 
But it’s kind of daunting to think about writing an entire humor column with a coherent subject line. So maybe I should start out with some brief bursts of lightheartedness to get a little practice. Thus the random humor mill is off and running…

*  I noticed that on our magnetic board my wife posted a list she titled "Hang Ups." That was a good idea. I certainly had a few hang ups that had been bothering me. All those paris of shoes my family leaves lying around by the front door, for example.  

One night I counted three pairs each from my daughter, son and wife. That was nine pairs of shoes for an unsupecting guy to trip over. Son on the Hang Ups list I wrote, "Shoes piled by the front door and also "Inside-out socks." My kids often peel off their socks and leave them inside out, which is how they go through the laundry and into the fold pile. So who has to turn all those socks right side out? Me! Because you can't just leave socks inside out until you put them on again. It isn't natural.

It felt good to get those annoying things off my chest, but later I saw that my wife had added to the Hang Ups list. She wrote “Hang up mirror, Hang up picture, Hang up pegboard in garage.” Oh. I erased my rants and hoped no one had noticed. Nothing was mentioned all evening, and I headed for bed feeling relieved. Until I pulled back the covers and discovered nine pairs of shoes and six pairs of inside out socks.

 
* While driving around town I saw a bumper sticker that said, “My Schnauzer is smarter than your honor student.” It made me think, that must be an intelligent dog. Last school year my honor student got straight A’s, read a pile of books in her spare time and got bumped up to advanced orchestra. How did the Schnauzer beat straight A’s and advanced orchestra? Maybe he got an A+ and a chair in the symphony.

 
Maybe the dogs are smarter than my honor student. We make her clean her room and pull weeds and do the dishes. I doubt the Schnauzer does any of those things. He probably gets waited on like a prince. I guess I should get a bumper sticker that reads, “Your Schnauzer IS smarter than my honor student and apparently smarter than all of us!”

 
* Whenever a church needs a new pastor it seems like they come up with a job description that’s kind of idealistic. I mean, the new guy will have to be good. People read the description and joke, “We probably can’t hire Jesus, so we may have to go with our second choice.”But what if you could interview Jesus for the pastor job? That would be cool.

 
First you could say, “Jesus, give us the final word. Organ or guitar?” Jesus might reply, “I’m a lute man myself. But I’ve said before that worship comes from the heart and mind. Instruments, whatever.” Hmm, OK. So Jesus, what will you preach about? “Well, I’m going to tell you to get your rear end out there and help people with their problems and mention my name among your friends. You guys sit around in church talking about religion too much for my taste.” Whoa, pretty blunt.

 
Now Jesus, what kind of salary package do you want? “Go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and then come follow me.”