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The car in front of me ran over a desert lizard. I saw it coming but there was nothing I could do about it. I stopped and got out of the car. It was beautiful lizard, over a foot long. His back legs and tail had been crushed into the street. He was fighting, trying to pull himself up and across the street. He was so helpless. I lifted him off the ground and put him in the shade so he could die in peace.

This happens all the time on my way to work. The studio is on the grounds of the old Desert Botanical Garden, so there are little critters all over the place. Two days ago a baby quail was walking cross the street. I hoped he’d fly away like all the other quails do. He didn’t.

This spring I slept in tent in my backyard for Lent. Every morning I’d hear the birds singing at the top of their lungs. It was hysterical to watch a little bird puff himself up to the size of a golf ball, then sing as loud as he could. I mean, these birds were so cute, I couldn’t help but love ‘em. I wanted to keep them in my pocket and let him sing songs all day.

St. Francis loved animals, especially birds. We sing a song at XLT that St. Francis wrote. Every time I hear it, I feel created.

“All creatures of our God and King,
Lift up your voice and let us sing,
Alleluia, alleluia.”;

11:00 AM
I got all this done this morning:

1. Cut lots of branches off a big tree
2. Trimmed a bush to make it more like a tree
3. Mowed the lawn
4. Weed-eated
5. Washed the tent and rolled it up (That’s where I slept this spring.);
6. Pulled weeds in the front and side yard
7. Watered;
8. Repotted the basil plants
9. Finished two loads of laundry
10. Detailed my car

Ha! And it’s not even lunchtime. Man, I’m a badass. Now I am continuing my badass ways by visiting Candyce at her coffee shop.

I really do enjoy being a homeowner. Doing yard work is therapeutic. Remodeling the house is lots of fun too. It’s like I am a grown up kid with a grown-up playhouse.

This afternoon I did a sex-talk for middle school students in the Catholic Diocese of Moorehead and Fargo. It’s not the most glamorous speaking engagement, but the energy was a thrill. It was easy to fill up an hour with funny stories when you have so many impressionable young people. I believe that living a chaste lifestyle has been very rewarding for me, and hopefully they’ll do the same.

My life perspective has changed as I’ve grown older. Five years ago I would have avoided speaking to middle school students. (Isn’t that kind of dorky?) But today was a joy. Before I even made it on the stage, I hung out in the back room with the organizers. I ignored most of the witty conversation because I was fascinated by this two-year-old boy running around the room. He was just so cute. I’ve always appreciated kids, but I’ve never been drawn to them like I am now in my mid-twenties. It would be pretty selfish of me to be bothered by this.

I know a lot of young adults feel like they have to apologize about being motherly or fatherly. But how stupid is that? Who wants a dad who doesn’t enjoy being a dad? –a mom who hates being a mom? When you consciously push yourself away from the next generation, you are sabotaging the future of the world.

Last weekend I was in Michigan, and there were a lot of young parents that were very comfortable having children. It didn’t bother them that they were unaware of all-things-fashionable. They were proud to be parents, and their children will better because of that.

Some people in society have children to accessorize their lifestyle. This sounds ridiculous: because it is.; Take a walk through trendy neighborhoods and you’ll find latte-chugging mothers decorating their children with $200 play clothes. (Ironically, these are the same people who mock Southern mothers who enter their children in beauty pageants.)

What good is a full-sized SUV if you don’t have telegenic children smiling in the back seat? The vanity will corrupt those children, and they, in turn, will grow up to be vain adults. Yippee.

:::

2 hours later:
I am on the airplane to Phoenix. I am sitting in First Class, which is quite a treat. The lovely lady behind the counter decided a friendly Real World star needed better treatment. I obliged.

Nearly an hour later, we finished our conversation with a prayer. I prayed that he could be a faithful pastor at his church in San Diego. He prayed that I could continue to minster on the Internet. We asked for the courage to do God’s will. Amen.

I am on a plane to Minnesota–a plane I almost missed. I got distracted at work when I came across a website called “How to Start a Coffee Shop.” Could a humble website keep such a promise? I began reading and decided to keep reading. Some time later, I looked up at the clock and realized my plane was leaving in less than an hour. Oh no.

I sprinted out of the office and screeched out of the parking lot. Gone in 60 seconds.;

I jockeyed through traffic like a real bandit and made it to the airport parking lot in less than ten minutes. I chose an out-of-the-way security line just because it was short, then I trekked through three terminals before getting to my gate. I got my boarding pass and fell into a chair. Wow…I left the office twenty-five minutes ago.

So of course my adrenaline is still pumping through me. Since my body is strapped into this seat, I’ve decided to type out some energy. So why was I reading about starting a coffee shop?

I’ve been drawn to coffee shops before I knew coffee could be cool. For the first decade-and-half of my life, I regarded coffee as the drug of skank-breath bus drivers and substitute teachers. To consider coffee hip or even glamorous was absurd.

But sometime in my sophomore year in 1995, I experienced the cozy comforts of coffee. You could sip and read, sip and chat, or just sip and sit. The thought of having an establishment for such occasions was new and exciting. (I even asked my English teacher if she knew of such a place.) Little did I know that beyond my rural town, Starbucks was preparing to take over the world.

So I’ve had a decade of visiting coffee shops. I’ve been a regular patron and student of successful coffee shops around the country: Atlanta, New Orleans, New York, Los Angeles, and now Phoenix. Each week I travel out of town and can’t help but notice that coffee shops are taking over the country. Even my rural home town has a coffee shop–with wireless Internet! There’s something intriguing and fun about the coffee shop experience that keeps me coming back.

I know every young hipster dreams about opening up their own coffee house. Afterall, we believe ourselves to be connoisseurs of cool. Why tolerate average coffee shops when you can open up your own? Open the doors and let the cool times roll.

Even churches are opening up coffee shops. Not many, but a few. Usually it’s a glorified concession stand parked at the front door. I’ve seen a couple churches remodel a room within their church to make it function as a coffee shop. It’s often intended to become a hip hangout to draw in un-churched teens. But I can’t imagine a hell-raiser pulling up to a church to get caffeine fix. Would you like salvation with that coffee?

I don’t know about the concept of a “Christian Coffee House”. Was the Good News not good enough? Do you have to marry Christianity with popular pleasures to make it cool? If that’s the case, why not have a Christian Wrestling Federation (CWF)? Oh wait, they do. With money changers gone from churches, I wonder if a 21st-century Jesus would flip coffee tables.

Call me dorky. Call me an capitalist. But I am trying to figure out if you really could have a Christian coffee house. I’ve already apologized for the concept, now it’s time to figure out if it’s possible.

So last night Candyce and I yapped for two hours about whether or not it could work. We spent most of the time defining what would actually make the business work: coolness. You just do it right. We talked about the quality of the coffee, employee standards, furniture, location, and even ideas for the bathrooms.

But all that just makes the coffee shop work like a coffee shop is supposed to. But is it good for the Kingdom of God? If this is going to be our own clubhouse, then it’s a waste of time. We don’t need a clever coffee shop staffed by church-kids.

So I guess I don’t know. That’s why Candyce and I spent lunch today sorting it out some more. That’s why I’ve spent over an hour typing about it. That’s why I went back to studio for research. Research that made me almost miss this flight.

I thought I’ve already written a journal about this, but I can’t seem to find it on my laptop. But I’m happy to write about it again.

I want to buy a hot rod.

My plan was to invest my money in Real Estate because I make more money there. I could buy and sell one piece of property and make enough money to buy a cool hot rod. Or, I could buy and sell lots of property and have a garage-full of cool cars in twenty years. So buying property was really like buying a hot rod. That’s what I told myself.

But I have so much fun thinking about cars, and I for the first time in my life, I can actually afford a cool hot rod. If you get the right car, it’s also a pretty stable investment that’s lots of fun. So here’s my picks:

• 1950-54 Chevy coupe: chopped, channeled, lowered, flame-thrower exhaust
• 1964 Impala SS or Impala wagon. If it’s an SS, it should be stock. If it’s a wagon, it should be a radical slammed custom.
• 1955-57 Chevy wagon, radical custom
• 1968 Mustang fastback
• 1968-72 Chevy C-10 Cheyenne (truck). If it’s a solid Cheyenne, it should be stock. But if it’s not, then it needs to be shaved and lowered.
• 1992-1999 Honda Civic, professionally built with rocket-power.
• 1994-96 Impala SS or Caprice: the SS should be stock except new wheels, maybe lowered. If it’s a Caprice, it needs to be a radical custom that is totally smoothed out.
• 1995-98 Chevy Silverado/ Yukon 2 door: lowered, shaved, and rollin’ on 20s