Speaking of tattoos, I only have one so far. It is a rather poorly done Maple Leaf I got while hitch-hiking across Canada in 1997. I thought it would be better if I got the tattoo while on the trip rather than afterwards, so I had it done in Fredericton, New Brunswick, not exactly known as a mecca for tattoo artists. Still, it comemmorates my trip, which is one of the greatest adventures I've ever been on, so I am happy with it. It's a maple leaf, with a cross left uncolored in the middle (Cross-Canada) and then a little Canadian flag underneath, but where the Maple Leaf should go there is instead a 97. I lam quite proud of that little touch.
Since then, I have wanted to get more tattoos (everyone does once they get their first), but of course the trick is to get one that you can live with for the rest of your life. I've had some ideas, but nothing really concrete yet. Nothing to do with poo, though, I'll tell you that much for sure.

Well, cancel the plea for help, I'm all done. And it turns out that I will use the story of my Chinese name in the sermon, so since I mentioned it last night, this is surely poovidential, and I will now tell you the tale of my Chinese name.
Three years exactly right now I went to China for the first time. One of the things I was doing was taking a Chinese class at a university there. My laoshi, teacher, asked me what my Chinese name was. I told her I didn't have one, so she looked at me, and decided that my name would be Mei De. Which literally means Beautiful Moral, and can also be rendered as Virtuous. I was quite flattered to receive such a great Chinese name and so I wear it with pride, often signing my name with the Chinese characters for Mei De. But the pride is tempered with a healthy humility, or at least, I try, as I remember that on my own I am not in the least virtuous. Only through the redemption of the cross can I truly call myself Mei De.
In fact, Mei De is the only name I use in China (plus the Tibetan name I gave myself, Tenzin, but it doesn't have the same sort of realness- some Tibetan friends DID give me a Tibetan name, but I liked Tenzin better), and so there is a whole country who only knows me by that name, and even here at the University of Alberta it is not all that unusual to be walking on campus and to hear someone shout out at me, "Mei De!" as many of the Chinese students here only know me by that name too.
Of the many tattoos I would like to get, my Chinese name is one. So many people get Chinese characters, though, most of whom will never ever go to China.

Here is a story about poolar bears trying to eat American Nucular Submarines. Probably high in protons, neutrons and electrons, but not protein, nutrition or electrolytes. I think the story is somewhat suspicious, and maybe some navy guys just doctored a photo for a laugh. Thanks to Jordon Cooper for linking to it originally.
See? This is how I waste my time when I should be finishing my sermon. Must go write . . .
Or . . . YOU could write my sermon for me! Good idea, hey? Yeah, just email me when you're done. Thanks, I'm going to go play now.

I don't know if it's the weather or what, but I am quite pleased with my poolificness lately- TWO poems, and tonight I finished up a story for my sermon on Sunday morning at the Mennonite church. It's a story about bears! What else, eh? I'm quite pleased with it, though I think I overwrote it considering I will be telling it, rather than having it appear in print somewhere. It's a retelling of the story of Sir Gawain and the Green Man. More or less- I used the Gawain story as a template, anyways. It's a fable about grace. The Goddess and I went to her favorite cafe (the Sugarbowl) to do a little writing, and I was surprised how easily it came there- she thinks it's a Creativity Node. I think she's onto something. Here at home I have a hard time sitting still long enough to write more than a sentence or two, and there the prose flowed like a mother lode at the creativity node! See? The effects are still with me!
Picked up the folks from the airpoort tonight, too. They had a great time in Mexico, of course. And Dad was quite pleased with the way his fence turned out, so that was a relief. If he wasn't, there's not a thing we could do about it- it's cemented in there for all time now.
And since everyone is quite pleased tonight, let me end by saying how pleased I am that my friend Lydia started her own blog tonight. Go check it out, she just started today but already there is a link to the Naked Cowboy, so it's off to a good start, I guess . . . I put the link over on the left under Chrysostoma for now- we all have so many nicknames and pseudonyms it's hard to know which one to use. I haven't even told you about my Chinese name yet . . .
Wo de mingzi jiao Mei De! Ni jiao shenme mingzi? Renshi ni hen gao xin!

Here is a poem I started a while back, but was never able to finish. I'm not in the habit of poosting unfinished business, but I wanted to put it up before Finding Nemo comes out tomorrow- just to avoid any accusations of possible plagiarism or idea stealing. I don't know if they'll use any of the same ideas I do here or not. Anyways, enjoy! I call it . . . Finding Nemo! No wait, it's called The Sea Serpent. No, that's dumb too. I call it Poem #26.9, version 1.0

I met a sea serpent who lived in a tree
I said, "You shouldn't be there, you belong in the sea!"
"I know," said the serpent, "It's really not fair
"I was born in the sea but I hate it down there
"It's cold and it's dark and salty and wet
"And I ran up a very large gambling debt
"I only went one time to the race track
"But I bet all I had on a sea-horse named Jack
"Jack lost the race and I couldn't pay
"So I borrowed some cash for a few days
"But those loan sharks wouldn't leave me alone
"I have no knees they can break so they want my backbone
"That's when I did a very dumb thing
"I formed a counterfeit sand-dollar ring
"And paid the sharks off with the fake clams
"So they put a hit on me and I went on the lam
"Killer whales were hired and were right on my tail
"I turned myself in and the cops put me in jail
"But the mob is an octopus, arms everywhere
"They have informants and agents all over down there
"The scum of the sea, full of jelly and slime
"Smoking their seaweed and doing their time
"Moray eels, manta rays and my old enemy
"That squirmy, no good no-faced sea anemone
"I wasn't safe there with a price on my head
"If I turned my back for a second I'd be dead
"So I bribed the guards to let me go free
"I gave them solid goldfish as part of their fee
"The first chance I got I dropped out of my school
"And fled to this forest where it's dry and it's cool."
So that's why the sea serpent lives in a tree
Sounds kinda fishy if you ask me!

There! All it took was for me to put it out there for all to read and I had to finish it. Turned out alright- not poofect, but it'll do. I know- it has nothing to do with bears or poo. But I hope you can still derive some iota of enjoyment from it.

And any day I can hear freshly spawned Metallica music is automatically a fine day. Partly because such days are so rare. Click on this banner to go to their site to watch the brand new St. Anger video, shot at San Quentin State Penitentiary.



St. Anger 'round my neck . . .

Turns out Rowan is leaving these shores for greater things. In fact he'll be joining my other old high school friend Jason in London for a while before moving to Spain. I knew this was happening and yet I didn't realize it would be so soon- tonight was the last time I'll see him for who knows how long. He's leaving on Sunday. His Mom had me over for dinner. His Mom is a real sweetie, someone I consider a friend in her own right. In fact, we went just the two of us, sans Rowan, to see Saving Private Ryan back when it came out. Tonight after supper we watched another movie of high calibre, The Hot Chick. Actually, I was pretty sure that it would be a 5 Poo film, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be so I only give it 3 Poos.
Anyways, Homie Bear would like to wish Rowan the best of times as he goes off to chase his dreams. Finally you can answer your age old question, "What about in France?"
And Jay, keep an eye out for him, will you? I know his Mom would appreciate it.

Today is a significant day for two reasons: first, it is Lydia's birthday, so a very happy birthday to Lydia! Poo! Woo hoo!
And second, it is the 50th anniversary of the First Ascent of Mount Everest, or Chomolungma as it is called in Tibetan (which means Mother Goddess of the World- it is also called Sagarmatha by the Nepalis). MSNBC news has a few articles on Everest related stuff to mark the day. And in case you're new, here is a link to an entry I made a few weeks ago on the 1996 Everest disaster.
Now I will tell you about the legendary Willi Unsoeld, a charismatic imp of a man who was part of the first American expedition to summit Everest, forty years ago in 1963. He and Tom Hornbein were, if I recall correctly, the first climbers to conquer the more difficult West Ridge. And they were the first Americans to get to the top. Laurence Leamer writes in his biography of Unsoeld, Ascent, of their time on the summit:

Willi and Tom did not try to talk. They were full of an understanding beyond understanding. They turned off the oxygen and stood looking down on the world. Within the beauty of the moment they felt loneliness. Within the roar of the wind they felt silence. Within the glory they felt fear, not for their lives, but for the unknowns that weighed down on them. Within the triumph, they felt disappointment that this, only this, was Everest, the summit of their dreams. They knew that there were higher summits still if they could only see them.

The climb cost Willi his toes, which froze solid and had to be amputated. In fact, mountains would claim his life and the life of his daughter as well. He named his daughter Nanda Devi, after the Hindu goddess of joy. In 1976 they decided to climb Nanda Devi the mountain, a Himalayan peak in India that stands at 25,645 feet. Failing to properly acclimatize to the altitude, Nanda Devi Unsoeld died on her namesake mountain. Willi died a few years later in an avalanche on Mt. Rainier.
Kind of depressing, eh? But they died living the life they chose, doing what they loved. There are worse fates.
You can read more in Nanda Devi: The Tragic Expedition, written by expedition member John Roskelley.

I got tooken out to the ballgame tonight. Alex and Michelle had some tickets so me and Room Mate Mike came along. Nice night for it, anyways. The highlights of the game were when the sprinkler system came on unexpectedly, soaking a few of the New Orleans players and officials, and the repeated playing of Duran Duran's Hungry Like A Wolf. We sang many doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo do do's. Except Mike didn't. Maybe he was still mad about sitting on the bird poo. But it was dry and old so who cares? Umm, not really sure who won because we left early. Probably Poo Orleans though, they were winning.
Edmonton sure is a nice city when the greenery starts to make itself known. The view from Telus Field, which sits kind of low in the River Valley, looks up at the Legislative Building, and the High Level Bridge, and there are layers of trees everywhere. Very nice.
My first major league game was in Denver in 2001. Yup. Never been to an NFL game, and I don't care if I never go to an NBA game.
Last year I went to a Yankees game at Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. That was pretty cool, but I had to leave that one early too in order to get to the KoRn Untouchables CD release theater broadcast thing. Which was cool but it was frustrating because the broadcast was emanating from New York, only I had no idea where (it was a secret) so I had to settle for the theater broadcast. But it was still cool- we got to go straight to the CD store and get the CD at midnight, and we all got a free t-shirt and poosters for being there.
SOOOO much to do in New York. I think I should go back there.

There seems to be a contradictory systemic anomaly in Blogger right now, resulting in a cascading effect negating earlier, more perfect poosts.
But now I see the problem has resolved itself, preventing an escalating probability of disaster.

It's been a while since I poosted a link to some internet weirdness, so here you go: I like the moon! Brought to you by some . . . things.

Staying at my folks' place is a nice change, but there is something to be said about sleeping in your own bed, pooing in your own toilet, and browsing with your own Internet Favorites. Yup, back home today. And all I really have right now is a special message for my sister, if she happens to read this before Thursday. Go to this link, Diney, and you will see an article about Veracruz that appeared in this week's Vue Weekly. In case it doesn't work, just go here and go to the Front tab on the menu to the left, and click on the bottom story, Veracruz Vindicated. Kind of a bland article, to be honest, but Veracruz is where my sister lived for a few months, (and where she and my parents might have gone this weekend, for all I know) and we went there when I visited her and had a pretty good time- the Aquarium is amazing. Aside from Bears, I am also a huge fan of Sea Turtles, and there were some majestic ones there. We also went to an old Spanish fortress/prison, and my sister did admirably, translating the gist of what the tour guide said so I could appreciate it too. And the family my sister lived with when she was there are pretty great people. She should blog about her experiences when she lived in Veracruz . . .

Fence = finished. I'm almost finished myself. It sure is hot out there. The lack of blogging has been because the fence has taken over my life. But no more.
Three days it took, but it looks good if I do say so myself. I hope my Dad likes it- he's in Mexico as you may recall. Mostly it was just me and my Dad's next door neighbour building this fence for Dad's yard and the neighbour's yard, so quite a large task, but today neighbour had his sons helping a bit too. And a little grandson who thought it was absolutely hilarious to pick up the hose when we weren't looking and spray us- it was quite refreshing actually, so I didn't mind, and neither did his Grandpa. His Dad did though, and I had to stifle my laughter when the little guy would sneak up on him and soak his ass.
Went to the Gathering tonight. We had a guest speaker who is the pastor from another local church. The deal was, he'd speak at our church if one of us would speak at his church. The one of us was me, and I was told by Gotthammer Mike that this would be July 1st. So today as I am speaking to this pastor guy, he asks me if I'm all ready for next week. June 1st.
After we sorted out the confusion, and determined that I had been erroneously informed, I assured him I would be ready for next week. I think I will preach on the impoortance of getting dates and times correct.

Okay, as promised, a bit of a return to the more light-hearted and fun stuff you have come to expect from Pooing in the Woods. I wrote you a pooem. Except I see I didn't really include a reference to poo. So it is more of a poem. Oh well, enjoy anyway.

Homie and the Witch
There was a magic wizard bear who knew a lot of spells
He cast them in his castle in the woods by where he dwells
The spells were simple harmless stuff that bears appreciate
Berry creeks and salmon trees and more time to hibernate
But then an evil witch queen came and told the bear to exit
She had come to rule the woods and maybe even hex it
The wizard bear was sad and cried "Oh my, oh my, oh me!"
He went to the cave of his friend who was a bear named Homie
Homie took one look at him and said "Hey whatsa matter?
You look so sad and lonely (although you do look somewhat fatter)"
"An evil witch queen came and took away my castle
I'd try to get it back from her but it will be a hassle"
Homie said "Do not fear, I will get it back
I'll just plan a special sneaky slick surprise attack!"
So Homie went to the castle dressed up as a crone
The witch queen let her in since she thought he was her clone
"So good to see you dear, come on in and eat
I just cooked up some eye of newt for a special treat!"
Homie waited for the queen to gobble and to guzzle
Before he took off his mask and revealed his mighty muzzle
The queen was shocked and scared but she waved her magic wand
And some frightful monsters appeared from the Great Beyond
Homie fought and crushed and smashed each and every demon
And ate the evil witch queen who went down his throat still screamin'
And so the magic wizard bear got his castle back
And conjured Homie an extra special magic Berry Snack!

Sometime between the time I wrote last night's poost and the time I woke up this morning, I developed some kind of crazy intense pain in my left elbow- I think I may have slept on it all night bent too far or something. I can hardly move it and it's all red and feels kind of spongey. I hope it gets better by tomorrow because I am helping my Dad's neighbour build a fence, since my Dad is in Mexico at the moment. It's hard to hold a posthole digger with only one working arm.

Got some good news- my internet seems to be back to normal, though I am now scared of moving my laptop so much as an inch, since it turns out the pooblem was my dongle. And uhhh . . . there are just too many jokes to make from that last sentence, so just to clarify, a dongle is the absurdly delicate cord that plugs into your laptop network card to connect to the internet. A while back it got damaged by certian unsavory individuals, and I thought I had repaired it but it just needed some minor adjustments. Good thing I didn't uninstall everything and start from scratch like I was about to. And it forced me to backup all my files, which we all know I would never have gotten around to otherwise. So, soon enough Pooing in the Woods will resume to a more normal poosting schedule, just as soon as I can think of things to write about. Looking back over the past little while I see how serious I've been here lately- what's that all about? You would think I am some sort of literati or something. But do not fear, I am just a humble bear trying to make his way in the woods, without pooing on anything. And trying not to let his dongle cause him any trouble.

Lydia was right- the Matrix Reloaded kicks ass! Rowan and I went to see it yesterday and the fact that we were able to hook up at all, well, it had to have been fate, or some sort of Matrix thing. Read this email I got from him yesterday (which I just got today because my internet still doesn't work at home):

I called you about 5 minutes ago then went to the computer to email you about it, and lo and behold you've emailed me! Great minds think alike. Please don't be watching it yet. I don't want it to be too late. Please call. Please please. C'mon man. MIND LINK MIND LINK. Reach out with your Buddhist mindfulness and sense my thoughts. We are ONE MIND. ONE MIND seeking the Matrix. C'mon ol' boy, check that email. Check that phone. And DON'T already be watching the movie. Please please.

So anyways, I did get a hold of him and we made plans to meet, and when I drove to the theater I sorta took a wrong turn, and there was a pedestrian trying to jaywalk in front of me, and I was pretending I didn't see him so I wouldn't have to stop for him, and it was Rowan! Yay! So I pulled over, he hopped in, and we entered the Matrix. Kick ass. Didn't totally get it, but it was great. I think that movie deserves 1/4 Poo out of 5, the quarter poo for being somewhat confusing and thereby necessitating that I see it three or four more times.
Rage Against The Machine once again supplied the credits song- Calm Like A Bomb. For the first movie it was Wake Up. So. . . what will the song be for Revolutions? Freedom? Hopefully not Bullet to the Head, unless the bullet in question would be in Agent Smith's head, and not Neo's.
Oh yeah, and the cineplex industry gets 4 Poos out of Five for making us sit through twenty minutes of commercials and trailers before the movie- I don't mind trailers, but twenty minutes is going a little far, and since I am paying to be there I don't need to see ads for cars and colas, thanks very much.

And speaking of the Second Coming, I was introduced today to an author/painter from Vanpoover who does some amazing work, which apparently draws at least some influence from Yeats: Nick Bantock. Check out his site- or even better buy one of his books. Yesterday as the Goddess and I were walking downtown, we poked our heads into a local bookstore and she saw that this guy who I never heard of, but who she adored, would be here tomorrow (tonight) so we made plans to come hear him do a reading. It was really cool- he's a real down-to-earth guy, quite funny. But his books are so amazing- they are postcards and letters (actual letters stuck inside the envelope that you pull out and read) with this amazing artwork and a fantastical/ metaphysical storyline. Since I have only found out about him I don't really know much more than that, but seriously- it's very unique.

Just three weeks until the Patron Saint of Anger rears his ugly head . . .

"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

Not to sully my favorite poem (Not pooem) in the world by seeming to imply that Yeats was referring to Metallica . . . I just really like that line, and I really like Metallica.