sofserv, baby

Sofserv amy's back in town after being gone a week, so everything seems less hard-knock today … more soft-serv™. as a hands-on father, i always picture myself pitching in my fair share (of diaper-changing, for example). but it's when amy is out of town that i realize my usual quota (about one diaper daily) pales in comparison to what amy is intercepting (try 4 to 6 daily). kate and emma and i had a great time, however. mama was on vacation with her mama, and jordan and abigail were off at camp for a week.

for those of you who asked about my grandmother,
she is recovering from her partial hip replacement surgery. please keep praying for her.

we had a neat family come visit trinity house this week; they were missionaries in Nicaragua, in the countryside. they're living back in SA now. but one of their adopted family members is still living in nicaragua, so they're going to try and hook them up with pamelita, so she'll have another friend abroad! pam blogs today about making nica her home.

¿que mas? i got my 1950's-era Kay archtop guitar back in working order this last week. it mainly needed new tuning machines; the new ones look all neat and shiny compared to the generally weathered appearance of the guitar, but i'm confident they will age. as we all do, as we all do.

i also went back and dug up some old compositions i wrote a decade ago. to wit:

press the issue
12.18.99

the fourth estate and the second hand
conspire the headline that could break a man
and the third watch is the first to know
when the ink hits the paper, your true colors show

is it your sixth sense, or a fifth of gin
makes you boldly go where no man should’ve been?

your pages tear up my enemies and misquote my friends
‘made a generous margin; you should’ve made amends
our privacy’s irrelevant; gonna eat us alive
when the ink hits the paper, and the paper hits the drive

it’s not a right wing conspiracy; not a left wing barrage
that weighs down the edition that just hit my garage
you save your column inches, cause the ads gotta run
edit where you will, it makes the meaning fun

is it your sixth sense, or a fifth of gin
makes you boldly go where no man should’ve been?
what’s black and white — and red — all over?