Witches in church? Oh my!

This morning, I was diligently typing at my computer and staring at the monitor -- totally in "the groove" working on a document. Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye -- something standing in the doorway of my office.

I looked up to find two fully decked out witches bearing gifts.

Keep in mind that I work at a Southern Baptist megachurch. We don't really "do" Halloween around here except for our Fall Festival -- a safe alternative to trick-or-treating where members are asked to not dress their children in ghost, witch, or devil costumes. And the only employees who dressed up today were three pairs of women who dressed as twins.

Therefore, seeing two witches in my office was certainly a surprise.

Who were they? To protect their identity, I will just say that they were sales reps from a local advertiser here in Houston -- an advertiser who is working hard to get our business.

That's all.

(Actually, there is more to the story, but you'll have to ask about that in person. I'm not posting it on the internet. Nope. Not gonna do it.)

October 30, 1980

When I was in 5th grade, the "Big Game" between the two high schools in my hometown happened to fall on Friday, October 31.

That posed a problem. Either I would be at the game with my parents and not be able to trick-or-treat, or I would stay home and go trick-or-treating in an empty neighborhood. As with most small towns in Texas, everybody would be at the game -- not at home handing out candy to kids.

So I came up with a plan.

I convinced a couple of my friends to go trick-or-treating with me on Thursday, October 30. It made sense to me based on my 10-year old logic. Since I assumed that everybody else in town would have recognized the unfortunate scheduling dilemma like I did, I expected my neighbors would be well-stocked with plenty of candy ready to hand out.

I was wrong.

At every house we went to that night, we were greeted with looks of confusion and panic that seemed to say, "What? Am I off a day? Are we about to be inundated with kids?" Fortunately, a few houses had already bought their candy supply for the next day and graciously gave us our share.

After having to explain ourselves at every house and coming across more bare cupboards than we had hoped for, we gave up. Clearly, the neighbors lacked the vision and entrepreneurial spirit of this sweet-toothed 5th grader.

My Friend's Look-Alikes: CATHA

Today's friend: CATHA

My Friend's Look-Alikes: DAVE

This is the first in a series on who my friends look like.

Today's friend: DAVE

I was LOST

You LOST fans will appreciate this. No worries -- this post reveals nothing about last night's episode if you haven't seen it yet.

I decided to watch LOST last night since nothing else was on. I am not a regular watcher, and I missed the last week or two. So ... as I sat there and watched it, I thought, "Wow ... this is really taking quite a turn."

From what little I know about LOST, even I thought that scenes from FBI headquarters in Virginia were a huge plot development. And, I didn't realize that Mandy Patinkin had joined the cast. Boy, had I missed a lot!

I figured the scene showing a young boy being chased through the woods by some "monster" would be a flashback to the childhood of the "evil guy" on LOST -- and perhaps lead to an explanation of the "monster" I heard people talk about from the first season.

But then ... I realized I had accidentally hit the "previous channel" button on the remote and was watching a show on CBS.

All together now: "Bless your heart, Steven!"

A Cardinals "Fan"

Without exception, if a team is not from Houston, I don't care about them. Civic pride tends to be my primary driver as opposed to true passion for the game.

When the Houston Oilers moved to Tennessee and a disturbing number of Houstonians switched their loyalties to Jerry Jones' thugs in Dallas (Boo! Hiss!), I held my ground. I simply did not care about the NFL during that time. Houston doesn't have a team? Then there was no need to watch -- much less support -- another team.

That's why I usually check out of baseball once the Houston Astros are eliminated. If our H-Town boys ain't in the running, why bother watching? Sure, I like baseball. That's not the problem. But I don't like it enough to sell out and support an enemy -- oops, I mean another team.

Which is why this is so stinkin' hard for me to confess: I would not mind if the Cardinals won the World Series.

There. I said it.

You'll notice that I did not say that I am cheering for them or actively supporting them. I simply said that I would not mind if they won. That is a huge step for me to admit that -- especially on the internet where it could come back to haunt me some day. (I guess I'll never be mayor of H-Town, huh?)

So, why this lukewarm endorsement of our divisional nemesis? Read this:

"Albert Pujols, probably the best first baseman in baseball, has been having a very tough series given that the Tigers are pitching around him during every at-bat and he isn't getting anything to hit. In the 8th inning of Game 3, Pujols was batting with one out and runners on second and third when he was hit with a 90+ mph fastball on the right thigh. Most great hitters would have been irate at being hit when up by 4 runs with first base open rather than simply being intentionally walked to set-up the double-play. The ball hit him in the thigh and rolled out in front of home plate. Pujols grimaced, picked up the ball and gave an underhand toss of the ball back to the pitcher. He then jogged to first base without a word or even a frustrated look at the pitcher. Tim McGarver, who is doing the color commentary for the WS, said "that is the most docile response to being hit, I've ever seen by a major league player."

Way to go, bro!

Are there Christians playing for the Detroit Tigers? Probably. But with all things being equal, I have to pull for the National League.

For the record, if Jerry Jones' thugs (Boo! Hiss!) make it to the Super Bowl (ever) again, they won't have my support. The entire team could consist of bi-vocational Baptist pastors with degrees from Baylor and I still wouldn't be on their side. Sorry, but some rivalries just run too deep.

Why I am not an Ob/Gyn

Reason #1:
A friend of mine was telling me about her friend who recently had a baby. My friend shared that her friend had been feeling down and was crying almost all the time, but was finally getting past that stage. "Did she have post-mortem depression?" I asked.

Reason #2:
A co-worker at a previous job was always hot. Always. She has fans in her cubicle and frequently commented at how hot she was. Since she was a believer and we were good friends, I felt comfortable enough with her to ask, "Are you going through the phase?"


Fortunately, both of these friends are merciful and they both know I'm smarter than these misstatements would indicate.

I realize that the first friend's friend was not depressed about dying. And, I realize that menopause is more than just a "phase" you go through, like adolescence or parachute pants.

Regardless, I'm not opening up a clinic anytime soon.

My new wing girl

I have lunch with my friend Don every Thursday. It started out years ago as a weekly meeting between me, as a Sunday Bible study director, and him, as our singles minister. Now, it's between me, as a Sunday Bible study teacher, and him, as our singles minister. But actually, it's between me and him -- a couple of friends.

Since I work at the church and he's in his office on Thursday mornings, we meet up and head out to lunch together. On our way out, we stop by the cafeteria at First Baptist Academy (HFBC's private school) to say hello to Don's son, Isaiah. Isaiah, a kindergartener, is a total ham. I love the little guy.

My assistant's daughter, Madison, is in 1st grade at FBA and has lunch at the same time as Isaiah. I ran into Madi the other day when Don and I made our weekly stop. "Hi Mr. Steven!" she shouted as she waved me down. (With two kids excited to see me, it was clear I had come a long way from just wanting to sit a the "cool table" back in the day!)

Jenea (my assistant) shared with me that Madi told the story of our encounter on their way home from work/school one day.

"Mr. Steven came to lunch today to see his kids," Madi reported.

"No he didn't," clarified Jordan, Madi's 4th grade sister. "He doesn't have kids. He's not even married!"

Jenea said there was a significant moment of silence in the back seat, apparently as Madi processed this new bit of information.

"Well, that's weird," she concluded.

For the record, Jenea assures me that Madi clearly said "that's weird" -- not "he's weird." So, I'm flattered and that this little 1st grader is so perceptive as to discern the weirdness of my being single given my obvious attributes:

• a candy dish that's always well-stocked
• a refrigerator in my office where her mommy can keep her after-school Capri Sun cold
• the fact that I have "Come Sail Away" by Styx on my iPod (one of her favorite songs)

Move over guys. I think I found my new wing girl.

OffStar

Here's the other story from Laverne (*). If you missed yesterday's, scroll down and read it.

Before I tell you the story, let me give you some background. Laverne is one of the most refreshing and hilarious people I've ever worked with. Ever. She's about my mother's age, but has such a desire and passion to make improvements in her department and to try new things. She's a tremendous encourager to me and others and, on top of that, she has a fantastic self-deprecating and dry humor. I adore her. We all do.

Now, back to the story ...

After the Elmo comment, the discussion about advances in automobile technology continued on our ride back to work from lunch.

Laverne shared with us that a few years ago, she and her husband bought a new Cadillac. She was somewhat unsure about the OnStar system, but decided to set it up for use anyway -- just in case.

When she was programming in the numbers and talking with the OnStar operator the first time, the woman on the other end of the line had difficulty understanding Laverne. It wasn't a bad connection or background noise. It was her accent.

You see, Laverne is from deep East Texas. It doesn't sound all that different from other East Texans I know, but perhaps I've become accustomed to it. The OnStar operator, however, simply could not understand what Laverne was saying.

So the operator called in a linguist to get on the line and help translate what Laverne was saying!

Eventually, Laverne and her husband decided to cancel their OnStar service altogether because the operator was never able to understand what she was saying.

Now come on ... that is hilarious even if you don't know Laverne, right?

(*) Name still changed to protect the innocent, even though she is guilty of being dang funny.

Elmo es muy comico!

Up front, I will admit that this is one of those stories that would be SO much funnier if you knew the person who told it. However, I will do my best to truly represent just how dang funny it is.

Monday was Boss' Day so my team took me out to lunch today. While waiting for our table at the Grand Lux Cafe, I was reminded of the old FAO Schwarz that used to be in that exact location and how I once looked for a Tickle Me Elmo there for my niece and nephew years ago.

One of my team members shared that her husband recently purchased the new TMX Tickle Me Elmo - Spanish version for a relative. They do not speak Spanish, but he (the husband) just couldn't resist the thought of having the new robotic Elmo around the house for when the relatives visit.

Fast forward an hour or so later when lunch was over and we were headed to the car . . .

As the driver fumbled for the keys, we waited in the ridiculously hot and humid October weather. One of us said, "Wouldn't it be great if there were a button that could start the car, unlock it, and crank up the air conditioning before you even got in?"

That reminded us all of the new Lexus being advertised on TV right now -- the one that can park itself. Naturally, since everybody in the car is older than me, the conversation turned to all the advancements in automobile technology and all the changes we've seen over the years.

That's when Laverne (*) spoke up in the back seat.

"I still can't get over the Spanish-speaking Elmo!"

Tomorrow, I will share with you an even funnier story that Laverne told us. Seriously, the story brought tears and disrupted the whole office -- even when I retold it later that afternoon. You won't want to miss it.

(*) Name changed to protect the "innocent"

Shade-y

I headed out to Baytown today to see my nephew's football game. Kyle's team won, thanks in part to his 25-yard touchdown pass and several other great plays. Final score: 28-0.

Before heading back to H-Town, I stopped off at Target in my search for sunglasses. During the football game, Mom was trying to convince me to go the dollar store next door to Target. That's where she gets hers -- and she is not ashamed.

Keep in mind that this is normally not such an ordeal for me. In fact, I wouldn't even call this particular search for shades an "ordeal" really. I just keep having random or awkward incidents along the way. And since some folks have been asking me about it ("Hey Steven, do you know where I could find some sunglasses?") -- clearly because they are concerned for me, I'm sure -- I figured I would give an update.

So, there I was in Baytown's Target. I'm pretty sure the last time I went to Target in H-Town, there was a section of sunglasses in the "Accessories" department clearly designed for men. At least that's the assurance I got from the poster of a dude wearing sunglasses hanging above one particular display rack.

Not so in the Baytown Target. The only shades I could find in the "Accessories" section were by posters of women and girls. But by looking at the actual sunglasses themselves, I was fairly confident that some were for men. Or at least they could pass for men's when taken out of context and away from the others. That's what I kept telling myself.

(My fear? Accidentally getting "ladies glasses" like George Costanza did on Seinfeld. I made sure the frames did not say Gloria Vanderbilt.)

While examining my options, a flock of elementary school kids were checking out shades on display racks a few feet away. Apparently, there are many factors that an eight-year old has to consider when choosing sunglasses. Fortunately for these kids, they had each other there to hold each other accountable and to keep them in line.

"Lindsey! You are SO going to look like Paris Hilton in those!"
"No I'm not!"
"Yes you are! You better get these. They look like Hillary Duff's!"

Whew! Crisis averted!

Anyway, I found a pair of shades for me (neither the Hilton's nor the Duff's, by the way) and headed back to H-Town with uncompromised vision. If you see me and my shades, please be nice.

Next stop: Target

During lunch on Wednesday, I ran to Northwest Mall (yes, it's still open) for two reasons: (1) it's the closest Chick-Fil-A to work, and (2) I needed to buy a pair of sunglasses.

I stopped off at Macy's first in search of some shades. Not seeing any where they normally are (or at least where they used to be in the Foley's era), I asked a sales associate where I could find them.

"They've already taken them off the floor," she replied.

I didn't ask what that meant, but I was left wondering if her response indicated that Macy's would not carry men's sunglasses or if they were done selling them for the season. Curious.

Then I stopped off at Palais Royal. The only rack of shades I could find was located kinda near the women's department and kinda near the men's department. After finding nothing but big Jackie Onassis style glasses with big ol' Channel logos on them, I figured I was in the wrong place.

So, I asked an associate where I might find sunglasses for men.

"I'm sorry, we're all out for the season."

All out? Removed from the floor?

Where are we? Have they been outside? Do they know where we live? This ain't northern Alaska! The sun ain't goin' away anytime soon.

OK. That's all. There's no real point to this other than I was struck by the absurdity of it all. Carry on.

Move over Hollywood, Nashville, ESPN and D.C.

Mayor Bob Lanier.
Chris Cagle.
William Broyles.
Gary Busey.
Andrea Gardiner.
Drew Tate.

Now, my hometown of Baytown gives you Leeland - a new Christian band that's "instantly capturing the imagination and hearts of all who hear it." (Quote taken from their own website.)

"Leeland is the best thing I have heard in a long, long time," says Grammy Award-winning artist Michael W. Smith. "I can't stop singing the songs in my head. Great melodies. Great band. Great voice."

I downloaded their debut album this week. Good stuff. Check it out.

"Star"bucks

While at Starbucks in Uptight Park this morning, I had two celebrity sightings.

(1) Neil Bush, the brother of Dubya and son of George and Barbara. He was with his new wife (or at least I think they're married now).

(2) Dennis Laviage, the Scrap Metal Guy from the local C&D Scrap Metal commercials. Yes, he paid for his coffee in $2 bills.

Come to think of it, that may have been a liberal use of the term celebrity.