Category: Musings

This is a test post to see if some new coding will help Twitter and my blog live together in perfect harmony. Or at least tolerate each others’ presence during the holidays. (Many thanks to Marie regardless of the results, ’cause she put lots of work into trying to turn random websites’ vague instructions into actual code.)

Especially if I walk into the street while staring at my cell phone and I get hit by a bus.

This is primarily due to peer pressure—I’m not sure why I cave easily in these situations… maybe I’m hypnotized by shiny objects… like cell phones… Anyway, I created a Twitter account (@shawnbakken) for no good reason. Given how infrequently I write blog entries, I’m not sure how often the muse be flowing through my fingers for 140 characters or less. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment: I’ll get to feel guilty for never updating two things at any given time.

So I’m adding yet another link to the right-hand column that you can click when you’re feeling bored and want to read little nuggets of lack-of-wisdom from yours truly. Perhaps it’s best that I don’t have free Internet access on my phone—it means I’ll have to add said nuggets using my computer. If staring at a computer screen leads to my getting hit by a bus, maybe technology wasn’t the problem after all.

Here’s a hypothetical scenario (based on the Christian faith and conceived after watching Heroes last week—three cheers for TV polluting my mind!): Just before you die, you go to confession or somehow purge yourself of sin and thus believe that you’re dying with a pure soul.

You pass away in your sleep and “wake up” in an stereotypical conception of Heaven, clouds underneath with a deep blue sky and bright shining sun overhead. It’s very peaceful, very pleasant and you feel warm and happy.

However, as you travel around amongst the clouds, all of the souls drifting around you are strangers. They look at you and smile as they float by, but you don’t recognize any of their faces. You have family and friends who died before you, but you don’t see them anywhere. All of the people you loved and cherished, those you respected and admired… none of them are there.

Here’s the question: Are you in Heaven or Hell?

I was at a restaurant on Sunday and had to use the bathroom before we left (one of the downsides of drinking three glasses of Mountain Dew in one sitting). I headed through the door, walked past the urinals and saw two toilet stalls: one regular and one handicap stall.

As you probably know, handicap stalls are designed a little differently to make them more accessible for someone in a wheelchair: the stalls are wider so the chair can turn and there are handrails to help the person lift himself from seat to seat. (The stall can also be helpful for someone with constipation: you can spread your legs wider and grab the handrails to brace yourself every time you squeeze.) There was just one problem.

As I looked at the stalls side-by-side, the one on the right was wider and had rails, but both were unoccupied and both doors were swung in towards the toilets. In other words, if you’re using a wheelchair to get into the handicap stall, you push the door open, roll your chair inside and the door gets pinned between the chair and the wall.

Since you can’t use the urinal, you need to use the stall. If you need to use the stall, all you have for protection from prying eyes is the wheelchair, so if you’re shy about peeing where people can stare at you in the face… better lay off the Mountain Dew until you get home.

The end of Movember has arrived, so to commemorate the event, I designed and took pictures of some seriously kick-ass facial hair (as seen on my Movember donation page). Actually, I’ve heard mixed reviews from people who like it to people who don’t think it’s my look to simply “Oh my Lord.” (You know you want to see it for yourself…)

If some of you are still willing to open your wallets/purses/bags o’ gold, donations of any amount are being accepted until Dec. 7th and the proceeds are split between the Prostate Cancer Foundation and the Lance Armstrong Foundation. Thanks to everyone for your generosity and for limiting negative reactions to “Oh my Lord” as opposed to “I’m going to saw that stuff off his face using the jagged edge of a credit card!”