The Good Life... a weblog about life, technology, and the Opera web browser

I'm off to Richmond to visit my Mom for Easter. Toodles.

Sometimes my mind moves faster than my brain. -- Dave, who just proved his point

Que Sera, Sera as sung by Doris Day

When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother, What will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.

When I was just a child in school,
I asked my teacher, What will I try?
Should I paint pictures?
Should I sing songs?
This was her wise reply:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.

When I grew up and fell in love,
I asked my sweetheart, What lies ahead?
Will we have rainbows
Day after day?
Here's what my sweetheart said:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.

Now I have children of my own.
They ask their mother, What will I be?
Will I be handsome?
Will I be rich?
I tell them tenderly:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.
Que sera, sera!

I've spoken previously about a rather odd thing that happens to me: far too often when I look at a digital clock, it's 34 minutes past the hour. I was explaining this to Tina this evening and she suggested that instead of getting annoyed every time this happens, I should pray. I think I will. We shall see what happens....

Meg and Scott are up in arms over the Consumer Broadband and Digital Television Promotion Act (CBDTPA) proposed last week by Senator Hollings (South Carolina; Democrat). Please take a look at the bill and consider what it means to your rights. And it does mean something to your rights; if you use computers, CDs, DVDs, watch TV, listen to the radio, or do anything of the sort, you will be affected.

Check out ESPN's site for the latest on the NCAA March Madness tournament. In other words, click on the link to find out how Maryland is doing.

spoonerism (n)

a transposition of usually initial sounds of two or more words (as in tons of soil for sons of toil)

I do that all the time. On the way to Stinger's (the Lynchburg College coffee shop) tonight, I was telling Helen that someone had just Tuck their stongue out at me....

I finally uploaded my post about Spring Break. Sorry for taking so long on that one.

Oh, and thanks Helen for the proofreading.

So much for an early bed time....

From a friend:

Apostle to the Irish -- The Real Saint Patrick

If you ask people who Saint Patrick was, you're likely to hear that he was an Irishman who chased the snakes out of Ireland.

It may surprise you to learn that the real Saint Patrick was not actually Irish -- yet his robust faith changed the Emerald Isle forever.

Patrick was born in Roman Britain to a middle-class family in about A.D. 390. When Patrick was a teenager, marauding Irish raiders attacked his home. Patrick was captured, taken to Ireland, and sold to an Irish king, who put him to work as a shepherd.

In his excellent book, How the Irish Saved Civilization, Thomas Cahill describes the life Patrick lived. Cahill writes, The work of such slave-shepherds was bitterly isolated, months at a time spent alone in the hills.

Patrick had been raised in a Christian home, but he didn't really believe in God. But now -- hungry, lonely, frightened, and bitterly cold -- Patrick began seeking out a relationship with his Heavenly Father. As he wrote in his Confessions, I would pray constantly during the daylight hours and the love of God... surrounded me more and more.

Six years after his capture, God spoke to Patrick in a dream, saying, Your hungers are rewarded. You are going home. Look -- your ship is ready.

What a startling command! If he obeyed, Patrick would become a fugitive slave, constantly in danger of capture and punishment. But he did obey -- and God protected him. The young slave walked nearly 200 miles to the Irish coast. There he boarded a waiting ship and traveled back to Britain and his family.

But, as you might expect, Patrick was a different person now, and the restless young man could not settle back into his old life. Eventually, Patrick recognized that God was calling him to enter a monastery. In time, he was ordained as a priest, then as a bishop.

Finally -- thirty years after God had led Patrick away from Ireland -- he called him back to the Emerald Isle as a missionary.

The Irish of the fifth century were a pagan, violent, and barbaric people. Human sacrifice was commonplace. Patrick understood the danger and wrote: I am ready to be murdered, betrayed, enslaved -- whatever may come my way.

Cahill notes that Patrick's love for the Irish shines through his writings... He [worried] constantly for his people, not just for their spiritual but for their physical welfare.

Through Patrick, God converted thousands. Cahill writes, Only this former slave had the right instincts to impart to the Irish a New Story, one that made sense of all their old stories and brought them a peace they had never known before. Because of Patrick, a warrior people lay down the swords of battle, flung away the knives of sacrifice, and cast away the chains of slavery.

As it is with many Christian holidays, Saint Patrick's Day has lost much of its original meaning. Instead of settling for parades, cardboard leprechauns, and the wearing of the green, we ought to recover our Christian heritage, celebrate the great evangelist, and teach our kids about this Christian hero.

Saint Patrick didn't chase the snakes out of Ireland, as many believe. Instead, the Lord used him to bring into Ireland a sturdy faith in the one true God - and to forever transform the Irish people.