My Personality Profile

I was talking with someone about personality profiles and decided to take one of those tests online. It asks like 51 questions and it’s free, so I’m sure it’s legit*.

*Probably not, but still.

Here are the results:

ENTP – “Inventor”. Enthusiastic interest in everything and always sensitive to possibilities. Non-conformist and innovative. 3.2% of the total population.

Free Jung Personality Test (similar to Myers-Briggs/MBTI)


Sam and I recently had some wings from BW3 (Buffalo Wild Wings) and I was of a mixed impression; they were good because they delivered what they promised, namely, that I would eat wings in exchange for money. By the same token they were not good because I selected a “rub” instead of “sauce”, which is like eating a pixy stick and telling your friends that you just drank some cool aid. It’s just not the same.

I will arrange to have the sauce put on the wings next time by a certified wing technician. Spicy garlic.

Just like my nickname in Community College.

ba doom ching.

Why Jeep? Why Now? Why Me? Why NOT?

I’ve always been a huge fan of Jeeps. A picture taken in 1984 depicts a child wearing a burgundy Jeep baseball hat while throwing rocks into the Rouge river, more proud of the hat than the ripples. That child is me, by the way, the same child that got a bunch of toy jeeps from Christmas ’84 on, a reliable gift that always brought joy.

It was my second cousin Rob that drove Jeeps; he was around enough that I caught on early that these vehicles are fantastic. Rob drove a CJ-7 Renegade, then switched to the CJ-2 Scrambler (“pickup-Jeep”), then on to a 2-door Cherokee Sport, etc… all as I paid close attention and dreamed of my first Jeep. It’s no wonder that in High School I once tried to drive my Volkswagen Jetta into a swamp, hoping so badly that it had locking hubs. It didn’t.

In fact, it wasn’t until Emily and I were married that we could finally get a 1993 ZJ (Grand Cherokee). We found it used and put a good 80,000 miles on it before trading it in for a ’97 ZJ, which I am driving now. Oh, and… there’s always the 1993 YJ, which we only had for a year. What a great year it was, too. But my lawn needed mowing and those riders aren’t cheap.

Incidentally, neither are Jeeps. And that’s my only rant: they hold their value too well. Try to find a Wrangler that you would trust your kids in for less than $3,000 and you’ve got your work cut out, thanks in part to the fact that these babies’ll rust up on ya!

So, if they’re not cheap and they tend to rust, why buy one? I struggle with the same question. It all draws back to that kid with the hat.

Here’s my pros and cons list for buying a Jeep:


- Jeeps are Jeeps. This probably seems almost non-sensical. Because it is. Unless you like them.

- Jeeps are the original SUV. In fact, a Jeep Cherokee next to a Chevy Suburban looks like a School Bus parked next to a Fiat. You’re less likely to have an environmentalist throw paint on your not-very-gas-guzzling Cherokee.

- Jeeps are truly built to go off road. Sometimes you push a button and a truck is ready to go off road. You’re proud of this fact until you have to call your buddy… who happens to drive a Jeep… to get you unstuck. That happens quite a bit.

- Jeeps have a distinct smell. And I think it’s good. It smells sort of like a mix between front lawn and lunchmeat. Okay, that may not do the smell justice, but how do you really do a smell justice?

- There’s only one.

- The wave.

- Owner pride. People like me tend to stick with ‘em. You don’t see the same level of commitment for, say, the Ford Explorer.

- the straight-6 4.0 L engine.

- You can find mechanics that specialize in Jeep repair. Yeah, you’ll still need to get it fixed. But Jeeps are unique, quirky vehicles that have their own way. Sure, this way has been adjusted as different manufactures (AMC, Chrysler, Daimler Chrysler, Chrysler, FIAT) have gotten their hands on it, but, for the most part, there’s enough love for Jeeps to learn the mechanics up, down, front, back. And flipped over.


- Cost. Yeah. Mentioned that.

- The Compass.

- The Patriot.

- Space for tall people not unlike me.

- The mileage. New Wranglers get horrible mileage. It’s not like gas is cheap anymore.

- That smell of front lawn and lunchmeat can sometimes be mixed with the smell of hot, and that’s not good.

- The cost of accessories. If you need a new top, no problem — you can get them, but you’ll be spending about as much as you did on the Jeep itself.

- The cost of repair. A transfer case goes and you’re out $700. Transmission? Oh, set aside $1800. The engine, however, will run for eternity. And maybe that belongs on the PRO side. Yeah. I think it does.

- It’s hard to talk Emily into getting another one when we could buy a little car for 1/2 the price and 2-3 times the mileage. I agree. It wouldn’t be prudent.

So, there you go. I’m glad I got that off my mind.

I actually wanted Turkey.

If we were to go to Subway and it was about a year ago, I would have gotten either a pizza sub or an Italian BMT. 1,000+ calories later, I would have commented on how great Subway tastes and how filling their food is, thanks in part to those delicious sour cream ‘n’ onion chips and chocolate chip cookies, all chased down with a Diet Coke ™ because I didn’t want to overdo it.

We would sit together, you and I, at the Subway restaurant, an establishment made interesting by the constant ebb and flow of gas station customers who walk through the dining room aisles to reach the register and pay for their 87 octane. You would make a comment about how you wish they sold coffee by the gallon like they do fuel (you’re quite witty) and I would follow up with a thoughtful “yeah” (I’m too full to say anything witty, but I still summon the energy to agree with a very good idea). We clink our Subway plastic cups and head off in different directions to finish a day fueled by a custom sandwich. You might have a snack later because, let’s face it, a 6″ sub isn’t all that filling. I would scoff, seeing myself as a food camel, hoping to whittle my meal frequency down to one per day. Not that it would turn out like this today, because there’s still dinner, snack, and pie, all followed by a caffeine-free Diet Coke, so I can get some sleep.

But that was last year.

Yesterday I went to Subway and craved — actually desired in my stomach of stomachs — a turkey sandwich. Not an Italian BMT or a Pizza sub. Not even a Chicken (add bacon) sub. How strange. Suddenly I felt like Jared, the Subway logo who lost a ton of weight by eating this stuff (and, by the way, walking like 2 miles a day to the restaurant and back). Even more, I felt what some people describe as a new craving. Instead of wanting junk, I actually wanted only slightly-junk. Oh, and the chips: because the restaurant was attached to a convenience store (or “C-store” as Sam’s club calls them), I could have easily slid over and gotten some delightful sour cream ‘n’ onion delight. But no. Sun Chips.

I once professed a deep dislike for Sun Chips, what with their corrugated yarn flavoring and lack of grease. But I gotta tell ya… they’re pretty good.

What does all this mean? Does it mean I have the right to brag? No. Goodness no. I hope I’m not sounding like a bragging braggart. I’m just surprised by the fact that something a bunch of skinny people said actually turns out to be true. Your tastes really do change.

Also, turkey makes you really really really tired. A slow afternoon.

Back to School Supplies List

I was in a store yesterday and noticed that the back-to-school sales are in full swing, where paste and glue fight for shelf space and a college versus wide-rule debate gathers steam. Will we get a ruler or a protractor? Wire bound? #2 or #2.5 pencils? Where are the #1 pencils? Are there even #1 pencils, cuz that’s the one I want! Do I get the 48 pack of crayons or the 64? Dare we purchase the 128 pack of Crayola, which requires a prescription? Too much pressure!

Don’t worry. I have the back to school supply list that those fat cats in Washington don’t want you to know about:

1. Pepper spray. Listen: anything you need can be gotten if you have pepper spray. “Don’t pepper me, bro!” will be an oft heard phrase, followed by scared classmate handing you his protractor. You can use this handy tool — pepper spray, that is — to get all your school supplies from other students.

2. A 5 gallon paint bucket. You pick the color. Why? Every art project done in a matter of seconds: one quick roll and you’re on your way to an early recess!

3. Pepper spray antidote. This is a must because those things’ll rust up and go off on you when you least expect it.

There you go. Pepper spray and paint. A whole semester on $70.00! I’d like to see someone beat that at their local school supply store.

Whoda Thunk…

I saw a sign on an apartment complex that really caught my eye (the other one, too). It said “FREE WIRELESS WITH LEASE”. Whoda thunk that the internet would be seen as a selling point to get someone to sign the lease? These really are some space-aged days we live in, now that the internet is seen less as a luxury and more as a utility like water. I bet that some people would rather live without running water in their homes than without access to the internet. Listen: that’s all well and good until you try and flush the toilet. Believe me; there’s no web site for that.


Should Happy Meals come with toys? “They SHOULD come with toys” reports Malachi, age 4. “Because that’s how McDonals does it – they give us toys in our Happy Meals.”

Do Happy Meals make you happy? “Uh huh” says Malachi, age 4, “because they’re happy.”

What are Chicken McNuggets made out of? “Chicken” exclaimed the child. “And nugget”

Isn’t ‘nugget’ more of a shape, son? “No, Daddy. Square is a shape.”

I guess they’ve done it again and raised another generation to seek happiness in a begoldened arched box that contans a meaty substance, potato base, Yellow #3 and a dash of phenobarbital. And that’s just the toy. This makes Malachi and countless other children “happy”, or, at least, defines it for them.

I asked my son about toys in happy meals becuase they’re considering the implementation of a law that would ban toys in kid’s meals unless the food is healthier. They think that kids might be drawn to the meal because of the toy, but I think that its partly because they like the food too; otherwise only children would eat there while adutls graudate to a more grown-up restaurant like Applebees or Del Taco.

I think that apples are good. I think that fries are awesome. I can get an apple from my grocer’s produce section, even though they may start putting apples in happy meals. The fries I get from my grocer’s freezer never turn out like McDonalds fries, though. So, I say, keep or lose the toy; it’s fine. But please, for the love of TransFats, don’t stop making fries. Consumers know where to get apples. They know where to get fries. They even know where to get toys. Just don’t stop making those fries.

9 Yrs of Wd’d Bliss

Emily and I celebrated 9 years of wedded bliss on Tuesday, which makes us now an official married couple for 9 years and almost two days. We’re on our way to 10 years — if everything works out. And I think it will. They say that a marriage takes work. They are right.

We are blessed to have in our home three beautiful children named Lexi, Mac and Zach. When you say their names really fast together, it sounds like a high-priced New York Lawyer’s name, as in “I’m Lexi Macinzach and I will fight for YOU.” And oh, do these kids fight. I think this tendency to fight comes from their mother. By me saying that, I am actually pointing the finger squarely at myself as the source of the fight gene, since what I’ve just said can indeed be classified as fightin’ words. It’s okay. I’m kidding. I love you, Emily.

These three children are, as some romance novels might say, the fruit of our loins. Lexi, Mac and Zach are the result of a union, close and abiding, in which a man and woman leave their respective parents and become one, which is how the kids came about. If you have more questions about this, the school nurse can provide pamphlets. What I’m trying to say is this: our kids are a testimony to God’s plan for a family that all started with a beautiful woman in a majestic white dress and a fellow in a rented tux who both said loud and strong that “I do.”

Emily and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary in the best of ways: we put the kids to bed and then watched a rerun of Frasier while eating Taco Bell on the couch. I fell asleep before the end credits in a puddle of burrito. She carried me to bed. Or I got up and walked; I can’t remember.

Not as exciting as our 1st, 2nd or even 3rd wedding anniversary. But contentment is defined differently in this era of life, where happiness is a sink full of dirty dishes and toys strewn everywhere. We are as we had hoped: a family.

Thanks be to God.

Doughnut Burgers

Thanks to USA Today, I now know that one of the biggest hits of the 2010 county fair season is Doughnut Burgers. It is as it sounds, a beef hamburger patty placed between two Krispy Kreme donuts. This invention raises several questions in my heart (which is crying because its arteries are about to get clogged):

1. Do you add classic condiments like lettuce, mustard or onion?

2. Can you get other kinds of donuts to use as a “bun”, like a Bavarian Kreme or perhaps a jelly-filled?

3. Are paramedics nearby?

Would I try a Doughnut Burger? Yes’m. I’m all about things that are separately delicious being combined to become a surprisingly new combination of glorious flavor. Example: jelly beans and salted peanuts. Absolutely perfect together. Whoda thunk? Another example: at IKEA, they sell these meatballs that are, in every sense of the phrase, Sweedishly Perfect. These meatballs (or, as they call them at IKEA, meatenspheres) are joined with some kind of tart jelly that you would never eat with these things on purpose. Try it. It’s good. Unexpectedly so.
All that to say this: yes, I would try a Doughnut burger, though I may not eat the whole thing if that’s OK.

Dennis Reas is quoted in the article as a licensed (probably) provider of Doughnut Burgers. He says:

“You just have to have something new to keep people entertained,” said Reas, 53, as fair visitors circled his stands around lunchtime. “Every year we try to come up with something new.”

No problem, Dennis. Here are my ideas for the already approaching 2011 county fair season:

1. Deep Fried Deep Fried. Why not take what people like –deep fried– and deep fry it?

2. Slim Fast, mixed with Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby. Blended, not stirred. Ice cream, hold the guilt.

3. Doughnut Burgers, deep fried. Chased with a SlimFastChubbyHubby.

Patent pending, Dennis.


This morning at SAFMC, we kicked off Vacation Bible School (or “GPS”, as our 4 year-old calls it). GPS (or “VBS” as some insist on calling it) is all about a Church reaching out to a community of families and creating a space for them to encounter Jesus. It is also a clearing house for pipe cleaners and Elmer’s product, be it glue or tasty paste.

I was thinking about how the VBS songs in this year’s curriculum (copyright, Group Publishing) seems to emphasize the Bible, with songs like “Ancient Words” and another one about how reading God’s Word will change you. “That’s interesting”, thought I, “that several of the songs of VBS are so bible-oriented”. Thankfully, I was saying this out loud and could hear my own ridiculous statement. Of course (italics mine) they’re about the bible. It’s Vacation Bible School.

What happens when God’s word gets hidden in the heart of a child? We hope and pray that a seed is planted, grows well, and becomes something living and active in the life of a little person who will someday run the world. According to the scripture, this will happen. Our job is to be faithful to the spreading of God’s word and praying that the Holy Spirit plants it deep in the heart of kids this week, starting tonight.

You pray, too. OK?