School Mistakes Huge Burrito for a Weapon

The following is an actual Associated Press article that I just read. I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. Personally, my favorite parts of this release are the ingredients list, and the boy's "ohmigosh" moment. I hope somebody ate it once it was all over.


CLOVIS, N.M. - A call about a possible weapon at a middle school prompted police to put armed officers on rooftops, close nearby streets and lock down the school. All over a giant burrito.

Someone called authorities Thursday after seeing a boy carrying something long and wrapped into Marshall Junior High.

The drama ended two hours later when the suspicious item was identified as a 30-inch burrito filled with steak, guacamole, lettuce, salsa and jalapenos and wrapped inside tin foil and a white T-shirt.

"I didn't know whether to laugh or cry," school Principal Diana Russell said.

State police, Clovis police and the Curry County Sheriff's Department arrived at the school shortly after 8:30 a.m. They searched the premises and determined there was no immediate danger.

In the meantime, more than 30 parents, alerted by a radio report, descended on the school. Visibly shaken, they gathered around in a semi-circle, straining their necks, awaiting news.

"There needs to be security before the kids walk through the door," said Heather Black, whose son attends the school.

After the lockdown was lifted but before the burrito was identified as the culprit, parents pulled 75 students out of school, Russell said.

Russell said the mystery was solved after she brought everyone in the school together in the auditorium to explain what was going on.

"The kid was sitting there as I'm describing this (report of a student with a suspicious package) and he's thinking, 'Oh, my gosh, they're talking about my burrito.'"

Afterward, eighth-grader Michael Morrissey approached her.

"He said, 'I think I'm the person they saw,'" Russell said.

The burrito was part of Morrissey's extra-credit assignment to create commercial advertising for a product.

"We had to make up a product and it could have been anything. I made up a restaurant that specialized in oddly large burritos," Morrissey said.

After students heard the description of what police were looking for, he and his friends began to make the connection. He then took the burrito to the office.

"The police saw it and everyone just started laughing. It was a laughter of relief," Morrissey said.

"Oh, and I have a new nickname now. It's Burrito Boy."

the name game

There are two women in my class, each with a better name than the other.

a. Debbie Head
b. Tina Bopp

There's this guy who lives in Michigan that I know, his name is Dick Hedman. All of these names are fun to say and fun to think about. I can't decide which one I like more. My landlord in Ft. Wayne was named Virgyle Hougendobler. He might win the prize.

no, thank you

The jury has returned from deliberations, and I'll have to say, I really enjoy working at Adam's. After a full week of training, I feel capable, appreciated, and empowered. It's good to feel this way; I haven't in a long time at work. If ever.

This thing happened today though that really bothered me. There was a family of six, an older couple, a younger couple, and the younger couple's kids- 3 generations, 3 boys, 3 girls, very symmetrical. They were total Fips, very snobby and acting somewhat irritated with me the entire time, like my presence was nothing more than a zit on the lovely face of their life. And then when I brought the bill, they were trying to separate it out; the older couple put down cash and then the younger woman, the mom of the family, was trying to figure out how much should come off of her credit card, and the husband just barked at her. "Just take the cash, give her [sort of a sideways sneer at me inserted here] the card!" and the woman obeyed him like a humbled dog would obey its master.

If it were me, if I was married and I was spoken to like an animal in front of my children, parents, and strangers, it would happen once. Only once, and then it would never happen again. He would get divorce papers, counseling requests, or a slap across the face, but it would be the only time it ever happened. I do not have any problem with allowing the husband to assume some measure of authority in the relationship, but the marriage is a partnership. There is discussion, there is argument, there is resolve. But there is no humiliation in public, or being fippy to each other. ughugh. My current desire to remain unmarried is renewed with vigor.

Sorry to all you male friends out there who are caring and supportive and wonderful. This is a comment made in a general and not specific sense. And women are not innocent in this matter. Every time we lay down and take it, we prove ourselves to be the dogs they think we are. Assertiveness and self-confidence are required, as well as a desire to be treated with respect. Just because the idiot has money and your children can play with color game boys and drink expensive organic milk does not make it worth it. I'm not jumping on the bra-burning wagon here. I like bras, don't get me wrong. I just like women, too; being one and being friends with many, I see all we are capable of- raising children, owning businesses, teaching, earning doctorates (despite what the president of Harvard may say to the contrary), creating art and music and expressing the beautiful souls we were given by a God who loves and values us just as much as our male counterparts. We can do more than just roar, but to let a good one echo across the plains now and again sure is gratifying.

And then to completely undercut everything, I will add that I met a cute boy tonight down at the Maté Factor. Also one who understood everything I was trying to say without talking, and told me almost immediately that he a) lived in a cave b) loved talking about spirituality c) would like me to visit his cave and d) is celibate and believes in keeping the body pure. We'll see what develops.

you must be girls

Tuesday night equaled Tori Amos and Matt Nathanson. He is just as good as I remember. She is mind boggling.

Straddling a bench while playing both a Bosendorfer and a dual-manual organ and singing, Tori looked from time to time like a giant red-haired praying mantis. Though I'm not a die-hard Tori fan, I'm immensely glad I went. She is in a category all of her own, with a flair for pagentry and spectacle that I was grateful for. Other thoughts include the fact that the Paramount in Denver is a fabulous venue, and I should go to more shows there. Also, always hope that the dudes sitting in front of you fail to show up so that you can throw your long legs over the backs of their chairs. And that it is always a good time to wager if your concert buddy can throw you over the balcony if you go completely to dead weight. There's no way he could do it. He wouldn't even be able to get me out of the chair. It's all how you use your body, and I am aware of my capabilities.

Free concerts, parking, and places to stay are good. I was born to love, I'm going to learn to love without fear.

fax machine anthems, get your damn hands up

one more night at the bux. golly, am I excited.

I hiked the incline again Monday, it was stellar. I have found this is a particularly good time to think about things, especially on the jog/run/scramble down the Barr Trail. I started thinking about people, and specifically this one dude in my Capstone class at HC. He was blabbing on about how he had never let one drop of alcohol touch his lips. I don't know why I started thinking about this, but it really started to bother me- this was how he measured his purity, by what he didn't do. Others measure their character by what they do do. Resuming talks with Joe Osha has strengthened my resolve. I don't want people to say I am prudish, or tolerant, or straight-laced, or even funny. I don't want that to be what stands out. If I sing off pitch, tell me to my face, I can take it. Don't like that I left the light on in the hallway? Give me a push, I won't fall down. I want my character to be who I am. I don't even want to think about my actions. I want to be workin' my legs. My beat is correct.

I'm washing just about everything to get all the animal hair out. If I had enough money, I'd let everyone live with me for free. Especially dogs. I forgot how good it feels to twirl a leash around in your hand to get the kinks out. Or have a dog's body curl up on you and twitch with the tail wag. Cats are cool enough, but dogs are where it's at.

I think I'm going to start taking martial arts from a kid I work with. I'm also declaring May national vegan month for all Liza Swarts. Shelly is going to help me get the right food, and I'm going to try it out. Animals, ya know I love ya, but just for a little while, I won't eat you any more. Then, quick as a wink, I'll be once again chewing on the breasts of flightless birds. I want to experience it. Shelly tells me that your energy goes through the roof, and food revitalizes you instead of making you sleepy. I'm down with giving it a chance.

Randem tandem, sorry for the bumpy ride, but I've a lot on my mind.

Roy

It started today with a phone call from Kim Gray, a former manager from Don Hall's Tavern at Coventry with whom Roy and I used to work. She just left a message, telling me to call her.
Unexpected phone calls like these almost always mean bad news.

Roy Nerzig, friend and co-worker during my sojourn in Ft. Wayne, IN was killed in a car accident almost two weeks ago. It seems odd- I was just thinking of him yesterday.
I didn't cry when I found out- I would almost feel fake to do so, we weren't that close. He did however encourage me to go to massage school, which is what I am now doing. His quick smile and small pieces of food thrown across the galley at me are memories I will always have, and are tempered with that aura that only occurs after someone has passed away.

I tried to take time today to tell friends and others that I ran in to that they are appreciated. Please do the same- we never know how long we'll have.

Below are the lyrics to the only song I wanted to listen to today, Latter Days, written by Linford Detweiler of Over The Rhine. They inspired me to be totally honest with myself. I gave my two weeks to Starbucks tonight. The siren stared impassively at me and sang on.


What a beautiful piece of heartache this has all turned out to be.
Lord knows we've learned the hard way all about healthy apathy.
And I use these words pretty loosely.
There's so much more to life than words.

There is a me you would not recognize, dear.
Call it the shadow of myself.
And if the music starts before I get there dance without me.
You dance so gracefully.
I really think I'll be o.k.
They've taken their toll these latter days.

Nothin' like sleepin' on a bed of nails.
Nothin' much here but our broken dreams.
Ah, but baby if all else fails,
nothin' is ever quite what it seems.
And I'm dyin' inside to leave you
with more than just cliches.

There is a me you would not recognize, dear.
Call it the shadow of myself.
And if the music starts before I get there dance without me.
You dance so gracefully.
I really think I'll be o.k.
They've taken their toll these latter days.

But tell them it's real.
Tell them it's really real.
I just don't have much left to say.
They've taken their toll these latter days.
They've taken their toll these latter days.

Constantine's dream

In 312 Constantine had a vision and a dream. Overnight, Christianity became accepted and expected, condoned by the authorities and governmental powers. What had been an underground, cultish group who feared for and lost their lives regularly became suddenly elevated.

Up until this time, the Church had a history of living in small pockets, meeting together and sharing communion, keeping one another strong in fellowship and grace. They were pacifist, going to the lions, the cross, or the executioner for their beliefs, never protesting but laying down their lives for the truth that changed them. Constantine would change all this, and time has done very little to alter what he chose to do.

Looking at an article from NorthPark University in Chicago, I found the following statements on Christianity's first governmental champion:

His conversion helped Christianity in many ways. Followers were safe from persecution, and Christian leaders were given many gifts by the Emperor. Constantine's adherence to Christianity ensured exposure of all his subjects to the religion, and he had no small domain. He also made Sunday an official Roman holiday so that more people could attend church, and made churches tax-exempt. However, many of the same things that helped Christianity spread subtracted from its personal significance and promoted corruption and hypocrisy. Many people were attracted to the Church because of the money and favored positions available to them from Constantine rather than from piety. The growth of the Church and its new-found public aspect prompted the building of specialized places of worship where leaders were architecturally separated from the common attendees, which stood in sharp contrast to the earlier house churches which were small and informal.

Constantine believed that the Church and the State should be as close as possible. From 312-320 Constantine was tolerant of paganism, keeping pagan gods on coins and retaining his pagan high priest title "Pontifex Maximus" in order to maintain popularity with his subjects, possibly indicating that he never understood the theology of Christianity. From 320-330 he began to attack paganism through the government but in many cases persuaded people to follow the laws by combining pagan worship with Christianity. He made December 25th, the birthday of the pagan Unconquered Sun god, the official holiday it is now--the birthday of Jesus. It is likely that he also instituted celebrating Easter and Lent based on pagan holidays. From 330-337 Constantine stepped up his destruction of paganism, and during this time his mother, Helen, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and began excavations to recover artifacts in the city. This popularized the tradition of pilgrimages in Christianity.

He funded Christian leaders and the construction of churches, some of which he dedicated to his mother. Most Christian leaders greatly admired Constantine for the works he did for the church and Christian cause.

*****

Does this sound familiar to anyone? Constantine's dream ended up being little more than a nightmare, one that the Church is still unwilling to wake up from. As Keith Green put so succinctly, we're asleep in the light- having been exposed to the truth, but slumbering on in the stupor of pseudo-Christian Americanism, unwilling to crack our eyes even slightly. What does the life of the Biblical, authentic Disciple look like? We had better find it. Each should work out his salvation with fear and trembling- all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Not every one who cries Lord, Lord is going to walk into the kingdom. We must be conformed to the image of Christ, not patriotism, or evangelicalism, or flags sitting off to one side on the church platform, sneakily edging into the agenda.

"Whoever has my commands and obeys them, he is the one who loves me. He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love him and show myself to him.”

John 14:21

blizzard wizards

hello friends.

as most of my readers are in fact from the midwest, I give you the permission to now gloat at me as our roles have reversed and you bask in 70 degree sunshine. Come on, gloat a litte.

Manitou is currently in the process of getting 3ish feet of show- we're probably about at the one foot range as it stands. Everything closed today- my church, my work, my roommate's bedroom door. We're chillin' in the winter wonderland, with travel nearly forbidden and large parts of both 1-25 and 1-70 closed for miles. Travel in the foothills and mountainous areas has been strongly discouraged by local television. Too bad that's where I live. Oh well, I can still walk down to the Maté Factor. It's always open. Maybe I can remind them to forget some muffins again while I pretend to study.

Keep your wool on and your eyes low, little children.

*** as a sidenote, I found the bird. Sort of. It did not survive the perilous netherworld of the kitchen floor. For all of those who were wondering... it has finally found its rest.

one of the weirdest pictures I've ever seen

This morning, when I got to work, I found this picture staring out at me from the cover of the New York Times.

I don't really have anything worthwhile to say about the death of Pope John Paul II, and as I am not a Roman Catholic, I don't feel that it is particularly appropriate for me to speak on the subject anyway. As a world leader known for being fairly progressive, he has my respect. As a man who sought to unite rather than divide, he has my admiration. His desire to consider all devotees of the Roman Catholic religion as equal regardless of continent or station is a model the United States should adopt within our own context.

My only other thought is, this has to be the weirdest picture of the weirdest group of people that I've ever seen.

bird

When I opened my bedroom door this morning, Draco was sitting just outside the door with a bird in his mouth. I closed the door and called for Joanne, who was poaching eggs in the kitchen. She got the bird away from Draco and shut the cat into her bedroom. The bird remains alive and under our stove, hiding from our cat-friendly eyes.

Its times like this that I know I totally made the right decision with giving up a cat. The little cheeps coming from the kitchen and the feathers scattered all over the floor merely serve as confirmation.

discs, crackers, cats

DISCS.



Last week I got my preordered, signed copy of Over The Rhine's newest release, "Drunkard's Prayer," in the mail. It was like coming home to an album I'd already cried and laughed over. The insides are peppered with photographs of the recording sessions, held at Karin and Linford's home in Cincinatti. In a way, the album almost feels like a farewell of sorts. I'd still probably say that Ohio is their best work, but this disc is intensely personal, and it leaves you feeling like you were invited in to their house for the whole process. Karin and Linford are incredibly transparent about their lives and their marriage, and the album reflects this in every phrase and melodic line. It has quickly found its way onto my top ten of all time list.



I also acquired Beck's "Guero" last week, purchased on the day it was released at Starbucks, courtesy of my 30% discount. It is a great compliment to the above-mentioned CD, partially because OtR is so mellow, and Beck so isn't. I described it most acurately last week as a mix between The Beta Band and Jurassic 5, with a little bit of Cake thrown in for good measure. The insert itself reminds me of Bjork meets Yoshitomo Nara. It put me into a decidedly Joe Urschel vibe. Who wouldn't want lots of sampling, lyrics about abuelitas, and unidentifiable noises popping in and out unexpectedly? Not me. I'm on the Guero train.

CRACKERS.

I'm hanging out uncontrollably at the Maté Factor, pretending to be studying but actually blogging. Ben just tried to eat seven saltine crackers without water, in a minute's time. He got through five, and then had to leave the booth to go puke them up in the bathroom after gagging himself with copious amounts of crumbs. I took a picture midway through, but alas, I have no digital camera, so y'all will have to wait till I devlop the whole thing before you get in on the action. Physically, it's impossible to acheive this cracker eating feat- but it sure is fun to watch people try.

CATS.

I adopted a black shorthair male last week, named Gizmo. I was excited to own a pet. After a series of unfortunate events, I took him back today. He was very high maintenance and ill mannered, and I am unable able to cope with either at this point in my life. Plus, Draco and Jonathan/Orion (Kate's new cat) both tried to kill him. I figured he would be a lot better off in a different home. Nonetheless, I did cry when I took him back to the shelter today. A lesson learned- don't try to be a cat person when all you really want is an affectionate beagle named Lucy. And a fenced yard.

Well, off to bed. 5 am Starbucks calls my name. The good news- I start my training this Thursday at Adam's Mountain Cafe here in Manitou. I'm geeked. I can walk to work, make more money, get free food and organic products at wholesaler cost.