Thursday, October 29, 2009


The Irish-ness of Dentry’s Irish Pub in Vancouver BC, is subtle. It’s not the beer, atmosphere or menu. The Irish-ness is mostly in the color scheme, Jameson banners and the occasional rugby match on the 42 inch flat-screen TV in the back corner. Oh and the five -foot-nothing leprechaun-of-a-man at the bar.

It’s not a great place to study, but after a day spent inside in pajamas watching Justice League—I had to get out of the house. With the added incentive of a pint (20 ounces here) of beer, I shuffled the block and half down to Dentry’s. Reading about the critical scholarship on the authorship of Isaiah, I sip a fancy lager and ease drop.

From the corner (by the flat-screen) I hear cards shuffling and people talking. “Did you know a metal band covered Final Countdown, and did made it twice as fast? It’s awesome.” I wonder what brought up the subject.

We Didn’t Start the Fire is playing on the radio. Piano Man is a better song. I wish someone here would make love to their tonic and gin.

On the other end of the bar the attractive waitress talks to a regular with thick black framed glasses and great big bushy eyebrows.

On the flat-screen, the Toronto Raptors are playing the Cleveland Cavaliers. I guess their showing it because Toronto is in Canada. Toronto is winning, though not by much. I think Lebron James will probably pull it out at the last second.

I’m not getting much reading done. I’m taking more notes on Dentry’s then I am on Isaiah.

I hope it comes up on the test.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

The Wait

Wait for the Lord;
Be Strong and let you heart take courage;
Yes, wait for the Lord.
Psalm 27:14

It’s not like I have options. It’s not patience when there’s nothing to do but wait. Maybe it is. I don’t know. I have plenty of time to think about it. There really isn’t an alternative. My date is running late. I’m not about to go to the movie by myself. No one does that. So I’ll play Dr. Mario, and wait. Besides, I have no grounds to be impatient. She’s gorgeous and smart. She was the one who made time for me. What were my plans? If I didn’t have the date I’d be playing video games at home. So I’ll wait. She’ll come down eventually, and then we’ll go see Zombieland.

[this was based on a fictional story, by the way]

Thursday, October 8, 2009

A Seminarian's Gospel Song

My toe is tapping on the bus. It’s still dark, but with the help of Otis Redding I’m wearing a half-grin. It is six in the morning. My body hurts. My hair is disheveled. I’m wearing a Seahawks hooded sweatshirt, a size too large and Simpson’s pajama pants. I should not be awake. I should be asleep, under a flannel comforter. A big blue blanket. But the alarm clock wouldn’t quit, and the homework was not about to be ignored.

With my headphones on, I put these thoughts aside, and I remember that there will be an end to the day. After the coffee does its job, and I’ve sat through 5 hours of lectures, read 55 pages of Calvin’s Institutes and parsed a hell-of-a-lot of Greek; there is a table waiting for me in the corner of the pub. And there is a pitcher of beer that will never get warm. And the girls will be all smiles. And the friends will all have stories. And there will be dancing. Lots of dancing. And there in that pub my glass will never be empty and the juke-box will never play Journey (insert whatever band you hate).

So as I hide deep in my hoody, I smile. Just a little bit. Because I know that while the coffee may last for the morning, the beer. . . the beer comes in the evening.


Monday, October 5, 2009

Looking for My Sweatshirt

It wasn’t warm to begin with,
but someone opened a window.
Now it’s freezing.

I can’t find my sweatshirt.
I think I left it at church.

Thursday, October 1, 2009


If the rain had stopped, I think I’d have gone for a walk. Maybe to the beach. Maybe to Mcdonalds. But the rain drizzled all day.

If you had said yes, I think I would have stayed. At least another week. Maybe a month. And maybe we would have gone for a walk. Maybe your hand would have found its way into mine. But you didn’t see us like I did.

If I hadn’t bought a case of High Life, I don’t think I’d be writing this. Maybe I would have gone for a walk, or at least a drive. Maybe I would have gone by your old apartment. But I was thirsty, and now a drive would be a bad decision.

I suppose the beer wasn’t such a poor choice.