Why does the outer shell of Advil taste like candy? I had a buddy who once worked in the medical field. He would pop an Advil into his mouth and spit it out when the candy shell was gone. The same applies to Dimetapp — cough syrup/delicious liquid grape love. As if Barney himself had been liquefied.
When it’s stormy out, I always always want it to be bad enough to warrant a Severe Thunderstorm Warning and/or Tornado Watch. Given the unfortunate carnage in that small Kansas town last week, I may be wishing for something no one wants. I think this is a throwback form my kid-dom, where I was totally freaked out by storms. I even carried around a barometer like it was a teddy bear whenever storms would brew. Now I love ’em. Storms. They’re an acquired taste, like Coffee or, say Dimetapp.
My mom is in town this week helping us with the kids. Bless her heart. Not much more to say than that — and that I’m thankful to have such a superb family.
The room I work in at the church has been hitting a solid 78-80 degrees this week, at least according to the thermometer. That’s too hot for a husky fellow like me. Maintenance is working on it. I’ve lost 3 pounds.
I’m going to be using a vintage Yamaha SY-22 keyboard in my office for rehearsal, pitch finding and MIDI goodness. It’s the first keyboard I led worship with over 10 years ago. It still runs strong, like an old Chevy. Sounds like one, too. By the bye — looks like alt musician Moby uses the SY-22 for just about everything he does. Cool.
Being a dad is fun, but in a “with great power comes great responsibility” kind of way.
That Ronald McDonald scares me. What in the world did that guy do for Halloween? Dress up as an office worker?