Nine o’clock and all’s well
28 Oct 2005 
around evening time 
Matt Winckler
I can’t really think of anything to post, but I feel somewhat obligated since I didn’t post anything yesterday. It’s like an addiction or something. Anyway, what you will now see is freeform Matt–whole, unadultered, pure. I’m not sure what this post would be rated by the MPAA, because I haven’t written it yet, and I don’t intend to come back and edit anything later. Be forewarned. I’ve had about 3/4 a bottle of wine, too.
So this afternoon Eric invited me to go play tennis with him. I’m trying to decide whether playing tennis is gay. As I told him, whenever I think “tennis”, I think of some Brit moseying around outside his baronial hall, wearing a sweater and some white shorts that are too short and swinging a racquet around. I know Tim is a big tennis fan, so I’d better not write any more about that for fear of offending him.
So then, tomorrow we will be driving all the way to Seattle and back to attend a wedding of some sort, for somebody not related to me, and related to my wife, and that is what counts. Or so I am instructed. The wedding is sometime in the evening. I figure if we get back both alive and before 0400, we are doing well. Also on the itenerary is a visit to the temple to the heathen god IKEA, which my wife (who is now reading over my shoulder) informs me will take 2 to 2.5 hours. As my sergeant-at-arms would say, “woly mokes!”
Well, after arriving back before 0400 on Sunday, there is a dinner with friends we will be attending right after church. I will be interested to find out what sort of state of mind I am in by that time. It could be interesting!
Let’s see…what else? A realtor stopped by to show our house this evening, and left his business card behind. Most realtors have a fairly dignified picture on their business card–something involving a smile (no matter how gruesome) and some big hair. Not this guy. He was dressed in a hockey referee’s uniform and holding a helmet under one arm. I don’t think I would feel comfortable hiring a hockey referee realtor as my agent. There’s just something strange about that.
I am currently disturbed in my mind, because Dave Ramsey seems to be infecting my household at a precipitous rate. This evening at the dinner table we were discussing our housebuilding plans, and evidently the sergeant-at-arms recognized enough words to correlate our discussion with all things financial, and burst out with the exclamation: “debt freeeeeee!!” Woly mokes.
The burden of certain voluntary programming projects associated with the Washington State Music Teachers Association is now lifted from my shoulders. The schedule is produced and shipped off to the fellow who does the printing, and with any luck I don’t need to worry about it until next year. Except that this year I am definitely going to spend time working to make the system so easy to use that even music teachers could use it, just like every year previous.
In that burden’s place has arrived a certain responsibility to produce a lesson for our weekly Bible study (242 group). I intend to teach a lesson entitled: “Profanity, Obscenity, Vulgarity, and You!!“. It will be about how profane words in and of themselves are not sin; it is the motives behind the profanity that makes for sin, and how perhaps the “cleanup” the Victorians have done was not so good after all. And furthermore, how the casual taking our Lord’s name in vain (”my gosh”) ought to be far more offensive than when George Clooney exclaims “Damn! We’re in a tight spot!” I’m not sure exactly when I’m going to prepare this lesson. I suppose it will involve staying up late next week. I will be sure to post it here when it’s all said and done, though. (As an aside, a somewhat amusing situation arose around this lesson. Last week I stayed home with a sick Hans while Mystie went, and she announced the title of my lesson, and everyone groaned because they just knew I was going to come berate them about their language. After all, I virtually never use profanity, and have a pretty clean reputation, so what else could I say? I am happily prolonging this impression, while planning to open with a particularly interesting and “profane” quote from Martin Luther. Stay tuned.)
That is all. Return to your regularly scheduled Intarweb surfing.