and we're back...

We're finally back. It is time to unpack our belongings, and also all of our thoughts from this journey. Over the next few weeks we intend to finish blogging about our time out west, and then begin posting thoughts on what we learned there. We will definitely include some more pictures too. Stay tuned...

Because Love is Not Against the Law

After briefly wandering Fisherman's Wharf, SF's prime tourist district, I found myself bored and frustrated. This city is home to breathtaking architectural masterpieces which add spice to an already stunning landscape. Some find it easy to define San Francisco with a picture on a postcard, rainbow flag, and cablecar climbing lombard st...that is not what I'm after friends, rather the people and their story.

It was time to retreat from the sales gimmicks, ferry rides, t-shirts, street band, and the guys who expect money because they paint themselves silver and stand still like a robot...upon closer observation, we recognized the bass/keyboard duo were only miming instruments as a recording blasted through the PA.

Austin and I turned our backs on the fray and retreated into the fringes of San Francisco life, a small cafe` where we grabbed a cup of coffee. Common knowledge speaks to the diverse cultural composition of San Francisco; however, a negative connotation usually rests hand-in-hand with a Southern speaker and his culture-shocked statement. Perry, my Pastor in Anderson, often reminds that it is unreasonable to blame those far from God for acting like they are far from God...we want to love the people here, even if we won't always understand or agree with them. It seems politics and religion push for a person to fit a mold that makes them profitable or agreeable. It also seems love encourages a person to seek truth and purpose, independent of what might benefit us. Reflection on my life proclaims that I am often wrong, and I would rather show a person love than a list of characters that I might view as righteous. These may be fleeting.

After spending time with our waitress, journaling, eavesdropping, and battling an aggressive pigeon who made his way inside, it was time to roll out and take our exploration a step further. How do people pursue God in their homes here? Our destination: Church of the Sojourners

Good Morning Normal People

This particular morning was filled the brim with awkwardcy; the time was 10 a.m. when my face met a gusting ocean breeze and the inquiring stares of passing motorists. I sprung from the tent and, in my best impression of 12 time Olympic medalist Carl Lewis, bounded up the hill to check out our glorious ocean view. To my great chagrin I discovered an impressive lack of ocean staring back at me from the grassy slopes below.

With shattered hopes, I turned to my right and noticed a ribbon-like flag adorning the slope before me. The clever use of flags has always amazed me, especially when I reflect upon colonial times. Conquistadores like Cortez, Columbus, and Ponce de Leon pioneered these tactics, claiming foreign soil for the motherland by the clever use of flags. Indigenous populations often had qualms about those jokers arriving and claiming everything; however, without a flag flown proudly it was obvious that native occupation of land did not constitute legitimate ownership...I digress. Anyhow, I think it is only appropriate for us to lay claim to some land during the course of our journey; unfortunately, this hill was already spoken for.

Although misery loves company, I tried to shake off my disappointment as I returned to the roadside where my companions were already packing the car. Despite the disapproving stares of passing cyclists and commuters as we brushed our teeth on the shoulder, we pulled up our enthusiasm like a pair of socks and made our way into the city.

Welcome to Cali

As the Deathcab show came to a close, we gathered our thoughts and belongings in preparation for the long road ahead. After a brief prayer and parting words shared with our better-looking counterparts, we departed for the warmer climates which California hopefully offers.

In the beginning, a pact was made to partner with our driver(Rob) in his awakeness as we rolled down I-5...I was out cold in about 5 mins, only waking momentarliy to catch small wisdoms from chase's conversation, the 'welcome to california' road sign, and a few random elk crossings.

It was about 4 a.m. when we pulled the rental to an empty roadside, and set up camp down a grassy trail. It was 7 when I emerged from the tent to the cacophonous barks of surrounding sea lions. We somehow stumbled across one of the most amazing geographies this fair country has to offer; a complete surprise. Encompassing us were the Northern California hills which crash against blue Pacific breakers, and protect our hidden lagoon and its abounding ecology.

A busy-bodied local woman, pacing towards kelp strands exposed by the low tide, informed us that we were in Crescent City, CA as she prepared to furrow the soggy beach in search of razor clams, eels, and other edible wildlife...soon after we discovered our whereabouts, we bid them adeu.

Life in every breath of hustle and bustle...

Greetings from the road! I’ve been specifically charged with telling you a bit about our time last Thursday, though I want to spend a bit of time telling you about the Imago Dei home community we had the privilege of spending time with on Wednesday night. After our short time with Don Miller, which I hope will produce a separate entry from me, the group headed across town where Chase, David, Rob and I popped in about 15 minutes late to join a group of about 25 people stretching the walls of a small living room in a modest neighborhood in the Mount Tabor region of Portland. I’m not sure exactly what happened before we arrived, but there were Imago Dei songbooks hanging out on the living room table, a guitar leaning against it, and they were just finishing praying, so I put two and two together (honestly, does that phrase make sense?) and I decided that they were probably playing with each other’s babies. We introduced ourselves by going around the circle, saying our names, our favorite book of the bible, and why it was our favorite. Afterwards they passed out typed copies of the third chapter of the letter to the Ephesians, and we read it aloud together. A guy named Scott offered a review from the previous week and talked a bit about the history, and the floor opened up for questions/thoughts/etc. It was hard at first to pick up on the vibe in the room because I was not familiar with who the normal faces were, I did not know the character of each person, and I felt a bit imposing as a sort of one-time member. Compared with the friendliness and familiarity of Church at the Lofts back in Clemson, the Imago Dei group felt a bit awkward at first, a bit forced at the start, but as we dug into the scripture, people started asking questions and sharing a bit, it became apparent that everyone there was looking to discover what the real Jesus was like, and see how their lives might be changed in the process of searching the scriptures for answers. As people become more and more engaged in discussion, I began to feel like one of them, just a guy who believes he’s seen a glimpse of the Truth and wants to know more. After breaking, there was plenty of time to speak more personally with members of the group, now friends, who prayed for us and expressed big hopes for the remainder of our trip. Big thanks to Hannah for bringing brownies, and Aaron for leading by his example of service to his family there. Humble dudes inspire me like crazy. If you are reading this, please pray this home community, particularly that leaders would emerge that could begin another home community out of the existing one, since their numbers have grown quite large for one group. Also pray that someone would take on a regular prayer leader position there.

After leaving the Imago Dei house church, we headed towards Philomath, OR, a town about 2.5 hours south of Portland where we were set to stay at Leigha’s home. After a nap and a stop at Burgerville (which I think is the hammiest name for a burger joint…does anyone else vaguely remember Doug Pickles taking Patty Mayonnaise there?), we arrived around midnight and were greeted very warmly by Leigha’s parents, who woke up to welcome us to their home and show us around. It was great to have carpet to sleep on and a hot shower to wash out the sand out of our hair, and I think we were all pleased to wake up and enjoy a comfortable and easy start to our Thursday morning. Not that a chilly and cloudy Cannon Beach morning on the Pacific isn’t nice, but honestly, I think the whole world would agree that Philomath gots the goods. We woke up early to the rustlings of Leigha’s golden retriever, who’s name I’ve forgotten, but who’s character I will never forget because of her relentless efforts to pick up everything in sight and walk around aimlessly with it. We munched on a huge waffle/eggs/grits(!)/sausage/bacon breakfast and relaxed as the morning became the afternoon.

Around 2pm (actually the time we were set to be in Eugene to pick up our car), we started heading south, but not before stopping at Mountain View Elementary School in nearby Corvallis, where we reflected a bit on a story we were told before we left...

Our trip to Eugene took almost an hour, and we arrived around 4pm jamming away to DCF’s Liturgy cd which, might I add, rocks la casba. I don’t really have much to say about Eugene…it was pretty much just a strategic spot for car rental/dinner/concert. Other than that it was not very appealing, which I think isn’t helped by the fact that the town is named Eugene. I am brought back to days of old watching the movie Grease, starring Eddie Deezen as the nerd, Eugene Felnic (see picture below). I wonder how many folks think about that guy whenever they visit this town. Bummer, Eugene, bummer.








Since I'm sure you are wondering, you can visit Eddie Deezen’s fan site here.









We arrived in Eugene and went straight to Hertz where we rented the car that will take us all the way down to L.A., which made me feel all grown-up, although I had nothing to do with the actual rental except that I offered my approval of the trunk space in our vehicle of choice. In case our mothers are reading this, I’d like to add that we think we’re covered by Rob’s insurance so we opted not to buy theirs, but just in case, we’re driving extra carefully. Sleep well.

After renting our car, we were hoping to have time to stop in and hang out at the Church of Servant King for a bit. However, our time crunch didn’t allow it, so we decided to push on. To read a bit about these unique folk, google ‘em or check out the Highwaymen and their blog here.

We left Eugene for nearby Venata, OR were we took in a perfomance by Death Cab for Cutie and Mates of State at the Secret House Vineyard. I’ve been pretty pumped about this night for a while. This cool vineyard is nestled in the hills of the Willamette Valley in western Oregon, and offers a pretty spectacular view of the landscape around 6:30, which was the concert start time. Unfortunately, this might not be the ideal hour to start a rock concert, particularly for this crowd. Many of the kids seemed like the kind of folk who probably just woke up, or at least they looked like they had just rolled out of bed. But of course as I’m writing this, I’m remembering that no one in our team has showered in 5 days (unless you count Adam’s bird bath in Target this morning). Mates of State went on at 6:30 sharp (we know because we missed the first bit). They have a cool interaction on stage, and give off this vibe that makes one suspect that they’re really really into each other. They made tons of eye contact, and laughed at each other frequently in between their really happy shout/sing style, which was pretty cool. If twas ever a Chandler and Monica Bing of indie music, these cats are them. Death Cab went on a bit later and opened with a really slow song, which was probably a bad opening song decision considering that the daytime crowd really needed a tasty bar of Bit-o-Pep. Ben Gibbard talked a little about the vibe, saying “Believe me, it’s as awkward for us as it is for you,” to which bassist Nick Harmer signaled his agreement by cringing and cowering beneath the invisible awkward monster in front of him. Ben was pretty funny, and their music rocks, so I think everyone had a pretty good time. I spent some time thinking about the mysterious appeal of darkness, and how someone might enjoy the same music at a concert in the dark but hate it in the light. I also thought about how it would be the perfect time to cover Kenny Chesney’s "When The Sun Goes Down." No go, though. As we got deeper into the show, I started really getting into the music, and I left really impressed by their overall performance. I think everyone else in our group had a good time too, which I was glad about. Whenever I go to concerts with friends, I always want them to have as good of a time as I’m having, especially when I’m having a really good time. Unfortunately, my camera was having issues this day, so I have no visuals to add…sorry. For anyone interested…

405
Your Heart Is An Empty Room
The New Year
Why You'd Want To Live Here
Title and Registration
Crooked Teeth
Summer Skin
Photobooth
Title Track
Company Calls
For What Reason
Soul Meets Body
Movie Script Ending
What Sarah Said
We Looked Like Giants
Transatlanticism (with Mates of State)
The Sound of Settling

Encore:
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
I'm Going Home (Sonics cover)
Marching Bands of Manhattan

After the show we hung out in a field outside the vineyard where everyone parked. We waited for traffic to clear out by throwing the frisbee in the dark through the pot-filled Oregonian air and listening to the conflicting tones of Santana, female shouting, and random guys with their guitars. We said goodbye to Leigha and Bracken, our travel buddies since Seattle who have been really great company and extremely helpful. You kids are awesome. Also, thanks to Big Red. I will never forget you.

After hopping into our car and joining the back of the line, the five of us (Austin, Chase, Rob, David, Adam) enjoyed some honest prayer which included a lot of thanks for the week’s blessings, prayer for certain people, and some humble requests concerning the rest of our trip. I think we realized that our trip thus far had been a bit planned out and comfortable, and that we were moving into a lot more uncertainty about the things to come, particularly where we might sleep each night. I was able to tell them about a great experience I had in Galway, Ireland during Spring Break 2005, which was to me was a very personal testimony to God’s goodness towards poor travelers like ourselves who believe that God provides much for the faithful. It was a great moment in road-trip history, and a good start to a late night 4-5 hour trek, which would include my first breath in the beautiful state of California.

questions and coffee with don miller

Don Miller knows the best coffee shops in Portland. Of course, if you've read his book "blue like jazz," this probably doesn't surprise you. He introduced us to one of these amazing coffee shops called the sip and kranz. Don is the most gracious author I've ever met. (disclaimer: I haven't met enough authors to count them on one hand.) He agreed to take time away from writing his next book to come and meet with a group of college students just to talk about faith, life, and modern culture.

Briefly, here are some thoughts from our conversation:

1. The cutting edge of secular culture is redeeming the Church. Don's point here was that when it comes to things like understanding how community is to be practiced in all aspects of life from town planning to daily routines, the front edge of culture is closer to figuring out what Jesus intended than the Church. If this is true, the huge question is: why? Why has the Church been left behind? This one will be swirling around in my head for some time.

2. The Church has only recently bought into trickle-down economics as the best solution for attacking poverty. Don's point was that this approach has certainly been effective, but it has become very politicized. The other end of the spectrum, that is directly aiding the poor through social policy, has been villainized in the Church with names like liberal, leftist, and democrat. Why isn't there space within the Church for both?

3. Our question: Don, so what does it actually look like to live out authentic faith in community with each other? Don's answer: Marriage. Hmmm.

Don's a pretty cool guy. Ridiculously smart, and very well-read. And he never even had to finish college to get this way (Mom, are you reading this?).

In Search of Austin and other Wanderings through Portland and the Oregon Coast. (Post from Adam)

We awoke on the shores of Pacific happy to see that we had not been swept away in the night by the tides of the Western Oregon coast. After laboring to pack up our gear we pulled off the beach in search of a McDonald's or other facility that would provide us with a chance to eat as well as clean up before we reached our destination of Portland for the day.

Our journey took us down an expanse of small highways which exposed us to the beach, mountains, and even a tsunami evacuation route. Kevin captained us down an expanse of roadway that provided us with an encounter with no less than 50 Porsches and a variety of other sports cars traveling up the coast as we traveled down. Just outside of Portland we stopped for the meal and clean up time that we had hoped for earlier in the morning. Here we met the one of the nicest people and certainly one of the nicest McDonald's managers any of us had ever met before. We chatted about school, life, and our journey down the coast. He even took the time to talk to everyone in our entourage and guaranteed us a place to freshen up and get some free water at any McDonald's in Oregon. After eating, chatting, and sink bathing (Leigha, Bracken, and Rob) we headed south to Portland. Our trip took us to through a downtown market and to the infamous Bank of America building which ultimately led to Austin's MIA adventures and the deployment of our search and rescue team.

It all started out with some email checking time in the basement of the Bank of America building at a cafe. It was here we learned of our coffee shop plans with the Don, aka Donald Miller. Aside from this it was used as a time to catch up on email and trip planning by Rob. In the mean time some of us waited while others made plans to explore the city. Austin headed off in one direction, with the remainder of us, minus Rob, walking down to the Columbia river with the intentions of meeting up in 30 minutes. Unfortunately that was not the case as both parties each arrived back at the meeting sight at separate times. Austin being the first one to arrive left after 5 minutes and just missed our party which was walking back up the street for the expected reunion. However, this was not to be the case as we found ourselves sitting out in front of the meeting spot for nearly 2 hours as we wondered whether we'd ever see our little buddy again. After not seeing Austin we decided that it would be best to walk around and enjoy the city, and maybe even find our missing comrade. Our adventure took us to coffee shops, bookstores and a record store. (On an aside this was the same means of entertainment chosen by Austin for the day). After many unsuccessful attempts to contact Austin we headed to dinner and then to the car to get Big Red and head out to meet with Donald Miller. After a few moments of searching for the coffee shop and the park area we were suppose to meet Donald at we got an unexpected call from none other than Austin Booth. It was at this time I was unable to decide who I was more happy to see, Austin or Donald Miller.

The moral of this story is to don't wander off in strange cities without a working cell phone.

PS it was impossible to be mad at a face like Austin's.

Adam Schanz wuz here. (notice how was is spelt "was" west coast gangsta style)

(Chase has)Cannon(s) Beach

After a pitstop at the local Pig n' Pancakes in Astoria, we set out to find ourselves a campsite on the beach. We were hoping for a free site which might provide simple amenities like bathroom, cable tv, and valet parking; unfortunately, beggers can't be choosers. After a great deal of searching we found the perfect location (minus the 'no camping', 'tsunami warning', and 'rogue wave' signs).

We parked at the end of a sandy access road and walked a few hundred yards down the beach to set up camp. The firewood from our police experience was the night's saving grace. The quickly constructed firepit was incredibly valuable amidst chilly coastal temperatures and rain. A few hours into the storytelling, songs, and questions we were approached by another beach camper who offered words of wisdom: "You might want to move your car up the path a bit, unless you want the tide to take it."

I have never seen such a significant difference between high tide and low tide...the crafty water approached nearly 200 yards as the night wore on. Today we salute you Mr. Weather-tested Water-wise Beach-dwelling informer. Seriously, thanks for the advice.

The night offered time for reflection of our time here, and encouragement for each of us to remember why we made the trip. Each day brings its own brand of fun and attractions, but it remains important for us to consider the culture as we roll from one town to the next. Why is each place beatiful, and how might we fit into each picture?

A foggy Wednesday morning greeted us as we withdrew sluggishly from our tents and wiped the sleep from our eyes...all dirty and disheveled, aside from kevin who slept in Big Red (our sweet ride). After packing and pictures, we began our journey into Portland...

campfire chillin`

morning campsite w/ low tide

sometimes i like to jump over things.

Frosty the Snowfinch Checks In

In the interest of making my presence known (a post from Finchy, though under the name of Boothy)

Our departure from Mary Fran and her mother's house led us down Highway 105 along the coast to Astoria, OR. I believe it is only fitting that I describe this adventure with my first blog post, since it was at this point that I took the wheel of Big Red. Not long into the drive, flashing blue and red lights behind me began fearful thought processes in all of us... first "Oh crap, we are being pulled..."; second "Oh crap, we have one too many people in this van and one of them has no seatbelt... or seat (apart from a stack of firewood that very much invaded the personal regions of its occupant)..."; third (after the cop letting us know) "Oh crap, Austin neglected to replace the gas cap at the last gas station", and finally (after frantic glove compartment and center console searches) "Oh God help us, we have no proof of insurance in this car." David (the current rider of the firewood) managed to sit up straight and cover himself with a guitar such that the middle two seats looked like they connected and were a bench. I honestly believe he pulled it off, but if the cop did in fact notice and decided to have mercy, I couldn't care less. He also decided to have mercy on the fact that we had no insurance cards, and merely chuckled at the gas cap. However, he did issue me a $90 ticket for 56 in a 45. Cops in South Carolina don't pull you over for 11 over... I don't think.

After proving Big Red's worthiness on a massive uphill climb in Astoria, Pig'n Pancake provided us a great meal and a wonderfully helpful waitress who pointed us to an area where we might set up camp. A few random explorations led us to a very unlikely place to camp, cool enough to have it's own blog entry, so it will.

Finch out

of old, majestic things

Age can be a defeating thing. But not here in Montesano, Washington with David's relatives. We met up with David's distant relative, Mary Fran, and her 91 year-old mother, Fran. They are amazing women who have lived an incredible, full life.

Mary Fran prepared a feast of a picnic that we ate in a state park hidden in the understory of a great forest here at the foot of the Olympic Mountains. Some in our church have been talking recently about the scriptural metaphor of christ's table offered to us. Well, in lake sylvia state park, we received God's blessing of food, family, and gospel.

The forest here is ridiculous. I have never in my life seen trees so tall, so old. Mary Fran points out the huge stumps that remain from being logged over a century ago. Meanwhile, Fran (who, I remind you, is 91yrs old) hikes right along with us up the mountain, over the rocks, and with each step displays life. I suddenly realize that the ancient trees and Fran are speaking in incredible unison -- age is a small thing conquered by life.

from Seattle, with "Whoa!"

Monday. What a day.

We woke up early in Kent, and were all pleased to hit the town while the sun was not yet high. We headed up the 405 North, which I spent mostly pondering music, analogies and the use of numbered highways in songs (Route 66 is to who as 405 is to Death Cab for Cutie and as 101 is to Phantom Planet and 85 is to Outkast?) and wondering what a song about 76 through Clemson would sound like.

We parked at a garage in Seattle at Elliot and Vine and hiked it up to the infamous market, which was definitely in high gear by the time we arrived shortly after 10am. The scenery was pretty spectacular. Bakeries and flower shops galore, wildly legit street music, dudes throwing fish, all enjoyed under a bright blue sky with the cool and crisp northwestern air in our lungs. We met up with a couple of Leigha’s buddies, Chris and Bracken who turned out to be great company. Chris lives in the city and attends Seattle Pacific University. Being the most experienced, he took up the job of tour guide and proved to be great at it, as you will hear. Bracken went to Clemson for a semester but now attends Queens in Charlotte. She’s pretty excited to be wherever she is all the time, which makes her really fun in a group. (aside: as I just typed that, I heard her shout from the back of the van, “I want to be a pirate!”) We piddled around the market a bit, and the pics and vids below are my puny attempts to share a bit of the experience.

Jammin' outside the original Starbucks

Crazy fish throwin'

In the flower market

After meeting up with Adam Schanz (affectionately referred to as “snap-bandit” by St. Lew), we hopped on a ferry across the Puget Sound to Bainbridge Island. The gentle breeze turned quite a bit stiffer, and in protest I defiantly wrote my name and dated the orange rescue buoy on the bow of the ship. We split up for lunch, myself being one of the six who enjoyed a bit of uber-delicious Thai cuisine for lunch and a round of Singhas outside next to a boat yard. Conversation varied from Church to political rhetoric to how Chase can’t hold his spicy food like Leigha. More than once someone commented on how peaceful the moment was. It was a pretty sweet time. After boarding another ferry ride and a short pow-wow, we went back into the city center where we stopped in a really cool music shop full of harps, hammer dulcimers, sitars, among other instruments that I didn’t know. A few of us sipped on some White Dragon Well and talked to a man named Ben in his local Chinese tea bar, which proved tasty and informative. I could talk more about the city, but I don’t have much time now.

St. Lew looking back at the city

The view from lunch

Group heading back from Bainbridge Island

As the day was ending, we headed to Golden Gardens Park, an incredible spot northwest of Seattle to enjoy more of a real Seattle experience, away from what one local described as “square downtown.” (btw: will some English composition minded person comment on whether that second quotation should be outside the period, because it just looks really awkward to me? Kerry? Elaine?) It is essentially a beach spot on the Puget Sound full of firepits with an incredible view across the water of the Olympic Mountains. We played some mildly competitive volleyball and threw some disc around, but the real reason anybody would go there is the view, and we had primo seating for the sunset across the Sound. There is a lot I want to say about this night right now, but I will have to unpack my thoughts later when my battery has more juice. Please stay tuned.

Sun going down over the Olympic Mountains at Golden Gardens Park

A bit later

And suddenly, a UFO

It's not NOT 6 a.m.

Good morning Seattle.
Good morning crisp dry air.
Good morning crazy buildings, clean streets, Puget sound.
Good morning Shaun Alexander, Leroy Hill, Mike Shannahan, and the Seattle Seahawks.
Good morning everything here, except coffee shops. Honestly, their domination of the landscape is absurd.

It is common knowledge that a coffee shop exists on every corner in the Pacific Northwest; however, nobody ever explains how many city blocks exist in a town like this. Chris, our local friend and tour guide on monday, mentioned that using the Starbucks website 'storefinder' feature from his address, he was able to locate 96 Starbucks within 2 miles of his doorstep....and there are others too. We made a visit to Tully's Coffee which apparently has "Coffee So Good, It Deserves Its Own Drinking Game". I might disagree.

My friend Wally, in Columbia, has a job acquiring and distributing coffee in the workplace...mostly transferring it from one pot to another. Wally: you do an incredible job, but stay home...these are the big leagues.

Seattle WA, we love YA

So St. Lew, Finchy, Kevin, and myself touched down at 9:40pm tonight. We met up with Rob and Leigha who took us straight to our sleep spot in Kent, a southern suburb of Seattle. There's not too much to say about Seattle, other than that it feels great outside and the Wendy's here do not allow walk-thru's. We're so fortunate to have landed this great spot to hang out and rest after a long day today and what I'm sure will be a Jack Bauer-like action packed day tomorrow. It's almost 2am here now, and we are about to retire after a couple hours of "getting to know your Oregonian chauffeur," feats of strength, and the always interesting, "what's up with spiritual gifts" discussion. Honestly, it's been an awesome start to our trip, and I'm really soaking up the anticipation that is thickening the air in this apartment.

Big thanks so far to Nathan Angelo (also, The King of Glenwood) for letting us watch golf in his tour sheepdog on the way to the airport, Leigha Johnson for picking us up at the airport and introducing us to Eve, to whom we are grateful for providing such nice carpet to rest our heads. God be praised for such generous provision and for bringing us to this moment, in which I shall follow Kevin's lead and offer a very warm goodnight to you.

P.S. Thanks also to Drew Norris for driving Rob to ATL at 4:00 this morning. It was a big help to Rob, and an even bigger help to all those who are constantly asking themselves, What Would Drew Do?