Thursday, 19 May 2011

My Uncle Jeff passed away today. He was 56 years old.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary memorial service  funeral
Uncle Jeff was a driven, passionate man who devoted much time and energy to things he cared about – especially his family and his faith. As the owner of a small business, he was a great provider for his family and had an awesome sense of humor – I still laugh when I recall witty words he said decades ago. He had a terrific fondness for an eclectic mix of music; he had the best cassette and CD collection of any adult I knew. For many years, he and I would greet each other before the meetings with a four-step handshake that only seemed to dissipate once I outgrew it.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary memorial service  funeral
Uncle Jeff and Aunt Debbie lived nearby when I was a young child – I recall going over to their home a few times and my mom warned my sister and me to be on our best behavior – “they don’t have kids,” she’d remind us, “so their house isn’t childproof and they don’t want you messing with their things.” We were told to be cautious around their toy poodle, too. After all, the dog (named Taffy) wasn’t used to the nervous energy of children, either.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
But perhaps that cautiousness was a bit undue. My Uncle and Aunt wanted children and, thus, were certainly not adverse to my sister and me. When I was very young, they took me and my Aunt’s brother (who was closer to my age than hers) to Valleyfair for the day. We were tall enough only for the kiddie rides and, after one trip around the roller-coaster, when the conductor asked if anyone wanted to get off, I shot my hand bolt upright, causing my Uncle and Aunt to laugh at my hurried insistence to be removed from the ride. One another occasion, my Aunt babysat us for the evening. She thoughtfully rented the movie The Goonies (excellent choice!) and passed out Skittles and a big gummy rat for us to snack on. Their dog snuggled next to us on the couch. And, after complaining all morning while out in the door-to-door work that my feet were cold, my Uncle took me to a store and bought me new boots. They were my favorite boots ever, and I wore them for many years.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
Later, they adopted a baby girl and my wife often served as her babysitter. Uncle Jeff was always excited to come home to his daughter – his child he had waited so long for – and he played with her and spent time with her as a father should. He asked Jennifer how his daughter had been during the day, and he loved to tell Jennifer about his daughter’s latest antics and interests.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
At a shower held for my new cousin, someone asked how their dog, Wheatie (yes, they named their toy poodles after food – not to be confused with my grandparents, who named their poodles after drinks) would take to the new baby. Uncle Jeff responded, “Wheatie who?” and then, after the laughter died down, added that he had spoken to his dog and explained, “It’s okay, Wheatie, lots of dogs sleep outside.”
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
Another time, I was talking with Uncle Jeff and our friend Brian following a Watchtower Convention one afternoon. Brian and I attended Apple Valley congregation, while my Uncle attended Eagan. As such, he hadn’t seen or talked to us in a few months and we were checking in on each other. A (very conservative) elder from Apple Valley congregation approached us to say hello and my Uncle, pretending not to see this elder, looked at Brian and said, “So Brian, how’s Apple Valley Congregation doing? Are you still having trouble with the elders there?”
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
Nevertheless, I feel it would be disingenuous of me to not point out that Uncle Jeff and I had our differences. Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, we engaged in several heated debates and discussions, often recruiting other family members as hapless supporters, and I purposely minimized my contact with him at several points during those years so as to avoid conflict. Now that I look back on it, it’s really too bad – he and I, after all, were both desirous of the same thing: he wanted his family to be the best Christians they could be, and I wanted my family to be the best Christians they could be. It’s just that, while he took the most conservative stance on matters (i.e., If there was any chance this could offend anyone, it’s best to not do it), I took a more liberal approach (i.e., If there is no scriptural ruling on a matter, then it’s best to live and let live). However, I don’t mean to dwell on these irreconcilable disputes – as I have claimed before, matters of religion often graft over a true personality and create a skewed persona. Uncle Jeff, like most of the family, shunned me for the past five years. This, like what I said above, is not something I hold against him, and had he ever wished to restart a relationship with me, I would have been all for it.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
My heart goes out to the family – particularly his devoted wife (my aunt) of 30+ years and his beautiful young daughter (my cousin). Despite the sadness that comes with such an early, untimely death, it is good to know that the tremendous suffering he has endured these past few months has at last come to an end.
Jeff Jeffrey Zimmerman obituary funeral
Here is my Uncle Jeff in happier times – he is pictured standing in the center. His parents (my grandparents) are seated, and Uncle Jeff is flanked by his four siblings. My father is second from the right. Don’t let that date fool you – this picture is from December 2009, about 15 months ago. Jeff Zimmerman memorial service memorial service eagan

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Well, I’m gonna be on the radio on Sunday. CLICK HERE for more information. I’ll be interviewed on AM 950 KTFN at 9:00 in the morning so you might need to stay home from church if you wish to catch my interview. It probably goes without saying that I’m gonna be interviewed regarding the Jehovah’s Witnesses (since that is, embarrassingly, absolutely the only topic on which I am an expert): what do they believe, why did I leave, why do they shun former members, why do they hate beards…stuff like that.
Tune in and listen, if you’re not already sick of me from reading this blog. I think they set aside a time for people to call in, so if you want to ask any pressing questions you may have, now’s your time. If you can’t think of any questions, here are some suggestions:

-How long is a “generation” these days?
-Which scripture discusses the prohibition on rated R movies?
-Why don’t Witnesses celebrate birthdays? (You can ask it but, sorry, there’s no good answer.)
-Do women in the religion have separate drinking fountains to go along with their separate spots on stage?
-How many Smurfs does it take to clear a Kingdom Hall?
-If Witnesses are going to live forever on Earth after Armageddon, what sort of superpowers will they need?
-How come Witnesses hide their copies of Thriller?
-If New York legalizes same-sex marriage, will all the Bethelites finally be able to become “one flesh”?
-Is it true that a Circuit Overseer’s butt won’t kiss itself?

In other news…
Newt Gingrich, certainly one of the most disgusting men to hold the position of Speaker of the House in recent decades, was in Minneapolis this week. Here’s a video commemorating that event:

Also, dress codes are stupid. Good for this kid.

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Tonight, before bed, Owen and I read the last chapter of Stuart Little, a book I have owned for over 20 years. Owen had recently seen the movie “version” of Stuart Little, and I wanted to balance that with the original – and far superior – rendition of the little person.
I must admit, I had almost entirely forgotten the details of this great story. I had remembered that Stuart was actually born into the family – not adopted as retold in the sanitized movie version. The book also makes a point of noting that Stuart ages quicker than his human relatives – he could walk as soon as he was born and within weeks of his birth, he was shimming up curtains.
I had also forgotten about Stuart’s friend Margalo, an injured bird with whom Stuart strikes up a loving friendship. Stuart, it seems, can speak the language of Margalo, and of the family’s cat Snowbell. (As an aside: I always find it odd and inconsistent how sentient animals are depicted in fiction. It appears they can understand humans, but humans can’t understand them. I don’t get it. Anyway…) Stuart and Margalo spend much time together. Later, correctly believing she is in danger, Margalo flees the Littles’ house. When she doesn’t come back for some time, Stuart goes in search of her. And here was a point that baffled Owen: why would a young mouse just up and leave his family like that? Though I told Owen that Stuart was ‘full’ grown, even though he was only about 4 years old, it still did seem odd that Stuart left without saying goodbye or leaving a note. It seems, if he did wish to find Margalo, he would’ve had better success had he recruited his parents and his older brother.
Stuart’s search takes him to the town of Ames’ Crossing – surely the best chapter in the book. Here’s how it begins:

In the loveliest town of all, where the houses were white and high and the elm trees were green and higher than the houses, where the front yards were wide and pleasant and the back yards were bushy and worth finding out about, where the streets sloped down to the stream and the stream flowed quietly under the bridge, where the lawns ended in orchards and the orchards ended in fields and the fields ended in pastures and the pastures climbed the hill and disappeared over the top toward the wonderful wide sky, in this loveliest of all towns Stuart stopped to get a drink of sarsaparilla.

Wow! Oh my god! This enormous sentence – rivaling in length something Thomas Jefferson would write (in fact, it’s quite a bit longer than the opening sentence of the Declaration), is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful I have ever read. After reading it to Owen, I had to stop and back up and read it a second time. I think it sums up the feeling of the whole book quite nicely. Later, when asked where he can be found, Stuart responds: “The highways and the byways are where you’ll find me, always looking for Margalo. Sometimes I feel that I’m quite near to her and that she’s just around the turn of the road. Other times I feel that I’ll never find her and never hear her voice again. Which reminds me, it’s time I was on my way.” Again: beautiful!

I was concerned that Owen would be upset at the open-ended conclusion of the book, and when I read the final words tonight, I looked over at him and saw that it took him a second to realize the book was over. He asked me what I thought happened to Stuart, but I turned the question around and asked him first. It seems Owen had already decided how the tale would end.
Happy.

Sunday, 15 May 2011

So today is that “in between” day – you know, that time after a big event occurs, but before it’s time to get back to the usual grind.

We had to dig out from Owen’s party: there were clothes and a table cloth to wash, and decorations to put away. We feasted on more Subways and birthday cake, chips, trail mix, and fruit. I had to put batteries in one of Owen’s new toys, and I helped him assemble his new Lego Star Wars sets (though he did almost all of it himself – I was quite impressed, actually). I wanted to get him set up with his bike but the weather was still lousy.

He and I also tried to assemble the bubble-blowing robot he received as a gift, but I must’ve done something wrong somewhere along the way, ’cause at the moment it’s not working.

Later, he worked on the connect-the-dots pages he got as a lovely parting gift from his classmate’s party. He was also given a set of chopsticks, so when Jennifer made him some vegetables as a snack while we watched the season finale of Survivor, Owen ate them with his chopsticks.

Monday, 16 May 2011

I began the day with a final exam. I expect I performed well on the exam, though I was a bit frustrated to not get a perfect score on the matching section. The professor had previously stated that he would not try to trick us, but he included two excerpts from poems that both discussed women’s slighted role in society. I couldn’t figure out which excerpt belonged to which poem, so I guessed the same poem for both, knowing that this would at least give me one correct. Also, there was a rather cryptic passage from an essay, and damned if I could tell which Native American was speaking in that instance. Sorry, but I mix up Red Jacket, Seattle, Apess, Occom, and Handsome Lake as much as the next white guy. So…I don’t know…I got at least 16 out of 20 on the matching game, and as high as 19 out of 20.

I felt better about the essays (I had to write four of them). But you never know how the professor’s feel about essays, it’s not quite as empirical as a multiple choice test. I was the fifth person in the class to finish, which means that ultimately my exam should appear pretty far down in the pile. My hope, then, is that the professor will have to plow through some pretty lousy exams so that once he comes to mine, he’ll think, “Now this is a good essay!”

This evening, after work, Owen finally got to try out his bicycle. He had his usual trepidation – the kind of trepidation he expresses for all major changes in life, such as when the weather warms and he is forced to go from long sleeves to short sleeves.

After a few minutes, however, he claimed to be enjoying the bicycle and was getting used to the feel of it. When he was done, I had him ride the bike right into the apartment complex and into the elevator (he didn’t seem to have a problem with this). We brought the bike into our home and I adjusted the seat and the training wheels for him and then spent about twenty minutes wrestling with the horn, which I’m sure I will grow sick of hearing after about one or two honks.

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Today, my son is six years old.

He came into my bedroom a few minutes after 7:00 this morning, and woke me up in an annoying way (he calmly lifted one of my eyelids). After hobbling out of bed, we both stopped to use the bathroom. We reconvened in the living room. I looked at the clock and saw the precise minute of his birth had just passed, so I said, “Hey, you’re six years old as of right now!” And then, despite the fact that my parents always asked me this question and I never had a coherent answer, I decided to say, “How does it feel to be another year older?”

This afternoon, a party in my son’s honor was held at his grandparents’ home. Owen had a few family members present, and some of his peers – friends he has because Jennifer and I are friends with their parents, friends he has from preschool last year, and, of course, his two (non-cult-member) cousins and his baby sister.

Owen’s party had a Star Wars theme to it, which matched perfectly with the rest of his life lately. The majority of his gifts were Star Wars-related, including a puzzle, two Lego sets, and a Lego video game. Owen also received a bicycle from his grandparents. It’s funny, because he just didn’t seem to be able to take a hint. He opened one gift that was a bag to attached to a bike. Then he opened a gift of a bike horn, then a helmet, and then knee pads. My wife kept saying to him, “Oh, that would sure be nice with a bike, wouldn’t it?” Finally, she asked him, “Do you have a bike?” He thought for a moment and then mentioned the bike he received as a gift over 5 years ago – a bike that’s so small for him he hasn’t ridden it in over two years. Then my father-in-law brought in the bike, and (I think) Owen put the pieces together.

We drove home for the evening having had a great day, but I gotta say, it was quite difficult to set up. For one thing, Owen had initially said he wanted to invite some of his friends from Kindergarten. This is trickier than it sounds because usually parents just drop their kids off for a party like this and, well, we didn’t have room to have the party at our small apartment, so we decided to hold it at my in-laws’ place. But their house is so inconveniently located to everything, that we didn’t want to make parents come drop off their kid so far away. So, we figured we’d nix the idea of having his Kindergarten friends over. But then, guess what? The day after we sent out invitations, we received an invitation from one of Owen’s best friends in class inviting him to her party. So then we felt guilty for not inviting her. But guess what else? He party was scheduled for the same day as Owen’s…so, even if we had invited her, she wouldn’t have been able to make it.

Yeah, so really frustrating.

In the end, I took Owen to his classmate’s party (which started two hours earlier than his). I took an hour and a half to go buy Owen a birthday card and then sat in a cafe’ and studied for my upcoming final exam. I picked Owen up then sped on to his party. Today was a cold, dreary, overcast day – a far cry from his 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th birthday celebrations, but right in line with the day he was born. We dined on ice cream cake and a free 6-foot party sub from Subway Sandwiches. After we arrived home, it took over two hours for our kids to unwind. Owen played his new video game and Isla just laughed maniacally at everything even after we were all laying down in bed. It was a good time.

Happy birthday, Owen!

Thursday, 12 May 2011

When I woke up this morning, I had initially planned on moaning about the realities of life; how it’s so impossible to succeed at anything and how even with great effort, it seems the best I can do is to just barely keep my head above water (this even applies literally – I’m a terrible swimmer). But, a couple of hours later, I realized that no one likes to read about self-loathing, unless it’s done in jest. Instead, then, I’ll do something that’s generally considered equally repugnant yet, somehow, more readable: I’ll just brag.

At the end of class today, the professor passed back our Connections Projects. These projects are worth 20% of our grade. I received an A on this project – on the final page, the professor even wrote, “Dude, you’re like my best student ever, LOL!” Just kidding. But he did write “The research is comprehensive and impressive. The writing is graceful and highly readable…This is excellent all around.” Oh yeah!

The great thing about this is that this means I’m heading into the final exam (which takes place on Monday) having accumulated all the points so far available. I have only missed five points this semester – two on the first exam and three on the second exam – but I scored an extra point on two assignments for doing outstanding work and just last week I turned in an optional assignment, which garnered me another three points. So, I have over 100% in the class right now. The final is worth 20% of the grade, which means that, even if I don’t show up to take the final, I still end up with a B.

(Well – that’s not exactly true. Not showing up to take the final would mean I haven’t done all the work for the class, giving me an ‘Incomplete’ for the class.)

I can only recall two other times in college that I’ve gone in to take the final exam with better than a 100%. This is good. As long as I get at least 50% on the final, I get an A in the class.

Bragging done.

Also (and I only mention this because it is of trivial pursuit-style importance), as of today, Queen Elizabeth becomes the second-longest reigning monarch in British history. Though Wikipedia’s calculations seem to indicate this milestone won’t be reached until tomorrow. If I was British, I would be saying, “Long Live the Queen!” but since I’m American, I’ll just say, “When in the course of human events… (and it just goes on like that for a long time, Thomas Jefferson was really quite the rambler).”

Friday, 13 May 2011

How about, instead of talking about my day, I tell you something my wife and my son did? Okay, I will.

My wife visited the Mall of America today. As is our custom, she parked on the Florida level, near Bloomingdale’s. Pushing Isla in the stroller, she walked through the hallway connecting the parking ramp to the mall and went in through the glass doors. There, in the all-glass entryway, was a bird fluttering around, trying to get out. The bird kept smacking against the glass and then falling down. Birds generally do this until they’re dead.

We’ve seen this before – including just a few months ago. On that day, Owen and I kind of chased-slash-cornered the bird and funneled it down the hallway and out into the ramp. I guess Bloomingdale’s can’t afford decals to put on the window that would allow trapped birds to at least see they shouldn’t slam up against said panes.

Anyway, so my wife went back out to the car today, grabbed on of our reusable canvas bags, then walked back over to Bloomingdale’s, waited for the bird to flutter down to the ground, then threw the bag on top of the bird, cupped it inside the bag, and then brought it to safety.

Meanwhile – at Kindergarten, Owen passed out temporary tattoos (at least, I think they’re temporary – oh man, we’re gonna be in big trouble if they’re not!) to all of his classmates while they sang “Happy Birthday” to him. Tomorrow is his birthday, incidentally. This, of course, brings to mind all those years when I was in elementary school and the kids passed out treats that they brought in for their birthdays. But back then, I recall the students all receiving cookies or cupcakes or some kind of candy. One year, a kid’s mom brought in a cake with a space theme, and there were little space shuttles and moon rovers on it, and I subsequently collected them all by trading with students for crap I had in my desk. Yeah, so, all that junk food. That might partially explain why my generation is one of extreme laziness and morbid obesity. The powers that be at Owen’s school, on the other hand, have requested  no junk food, so his generation will be one loaded up with stickers, crazy pencil toppers, and temporary tattoos.

At least, I think they’re temporary.