I have been pressured by several people who want to know when the blog will return.  I have wondered that myself.  Can’t you, they ask, write the blog without talking about the people who don’t want their lives made public?  No, I can’t, really, because the blog makes my life public, and they are part of my life.  There’s not much I can do about that.

Well, there is, really–I can stop talking about “my life”.  The point of the Blogless Lepolt, ultimately, is to let you, the Valdron/Multiverser fanbase, know what is happening with forthcoming product.  It is incidentally to let what might be called the Mark Joseph Young fanbase know about my other creative work being produced outside the Valdron/Multiverser stable.  In all this time, it has also been a place for talking about what has been in the way of producing such work, and thus the events and distractions of my personal life.  Part of that was because I was writing this every day, and I wasn’t getting anything done every day (or sometimes even every week), so I had to say something, and I felt I had to explain why there wasn’t any time to get something done every day.  One of the comments noted that this was something of value to him, to have some understanding of the conflicts that prevented me from writing so much.  That, though, is the part that gets personal–and thus the part that has to go.  Similarly, since I’m not going to be explaining why things have not been done, I will no longer be writing the blog daily–there will be posts when there is something to post; it won’t always be much, and it won’t always be very informative, but at least it won’t be about the progress I did not make.

It will also move that last blog post off its prominent position on the front page of this site, which will make me feel a bit better.

All of this suggests that I have something to tell–and indeed I do.  As I have been typing, I have realized that there is more than one thing to tell.

The impetus for resuming is that there is a new page in the Bible Studies section of M. J. Young Net, On Sabbath.  The brief story behind it is pretty much stated on the page as an introduction.  For those curious as to how someone who has always “regarded all days the same” justifies being part of a Seventh Day Baptist church which very clearly “regards one day above another”, there’s some insight into that there.

As I was typing, though, it occurred to me that I did not mention having made progress on the Multiverser Triple Play:  Horror.  I did what I am hoping will be the last text edits (and neither Jim nor John have commented on them, so I’m feeling fairly secure in that hope).  That puts the ball in the court of our art director.  He, however, takes an extended visit to family overseas every summer, so he might not get to the artwork as soon as he would like.

There was a third thing that came to mind while I was typing, and that is that Collision, the band, now has its own MySpace site.  There’s nothing there yet–not even a picture of the band, and no music–but it’s a start.  I had been thinking it was a necessary step, but that I did not have the time to do it and we weren’t really ready for it, when Baxter asked me about it.  He and Brittany have been overseeing it (I’ve not yet even had the chance to log in to the editing page–but I’m not particularly good at maintaining MySpace sites), and it’s progressing.  What do you think–should our lyrics be posted there somewhere, somehow?

Anyway, that’s the situation.  I will post again when I have something to tell.

–M. J. Young

I had expected to come home from church yesterday (I have previously mentioned that I am currently part of a Seventh Day Baptist Church) and find time for my hour of study before my wife left for work and I in my turn took my son to his grandparents to start his classes.  I would then visit with my friend who is interested in seeing my newest books, and be home by midnight, maybe one in the morning at the latest.

I lost that intervening window, and nothing else went as planned either.

I am not complaining on the first point, at least, not too vociferously.  The church has fellowship meals, and I have not yet learned the pattern but am fairly confident that this week was a break in the pattern–more a fundraiser than a fellowship meal, that one of the youth groups struck a deal with a local sub shop which provided hoagies to be sold at $5 each by the group and bought at $3.50 each from the shop.  It’s a clever program, whereby the group prints coupons for free hoagies, sells them at $5 each, and then the store honors them (up to a deadline date) and pays for those which are cashed.  I bought one for myself to eat while visiting with members of the congregation, and one to take home–and then I wound up being gifted with enough “leftover” sandwiches that I did not have to worry about how to provide supper for those who would be left home.

Another substantial chunk of my time went to the fact that the tuxedo from the prom had to be returned by three o’clock.  Getting the wearer to collect all the pieces was a tooth-pull, and I made it with minutes to spare.

However, my transport client was not ready for transport, and needed to be prompted and advised on packing.  I stole half an hour for study time while he took care of the details, and hoped to get the rest in upon my return.  It was thus closer to four when we left the drive, and after four when we left the gas station.

That was when he realized, stroking his chin, that he had neglected to pack his razor.  This was a vital need.

What transpired from there is more than I can explain.  We returned home for the razor and ran into a minor crisis.  I called my wife for advice, but she had already received a call from my son and so came home from work to help manage the situation.  Once that was under control, it was after six, and it had been decided that she would join us for our trip; and it was after six thirty before we were actually making that trip; and she had left a minor crisis at work and had to stop “briefly” there to fill out the paperwork, which took another hour, so it was seven thirty before we were on the road.

This concerned me, because my mother goes to bed at nine.  However, I informed her of the delay, and she was very encouraging about it, and when we pulled in around eleven she fed us and organized us for the return trip.  We left shortly after midnight, and by three or three thirty I was too tired to continue driving safely, so my wife finished the journey.  We did not visit with my friend, because of course it was the one night this year that he had planned to go to bed early because he had an early morning.  That was disappointing, but really we could not have pushed things later.

There was also supposed to be a separate trip, returning another son to his brother’s so he could get to work today; given that we were talking to him at four thirty in the morning and he was supposed to be at work at eleven (I had thought it would be later), he opted to call out today and go back mid-week.  I had said that he should go with us in the afternoon if he expected to go, but everyone else somehow thought we would be back in plenty of time.  I am usually right about such things–that is, it always takes longer than I expect, but I already expect it to take longer than anyone else expects, so I’m the closest guess every time.

Speaking of things taking longer than I expect, I’ve got work to do, so I’d better get to the doing.

–M. J. Young

I think I’ve been struggling with the schedule changes of the past year. Rising at six to get the youngest on the bus was already a struggle, particularly since I was always still up to provide supper for my wife whenever she got home, which was seldom before one and often meant serving food closer to three; now the six o’clock alarm has been pushed back to five, as the houseguest son of the absented houseguest becomes my responsibility, and his bus is most of an hour earlier. Thus I am not only not good at mornings, I’m starting to lose afternoons.

I say that I take Saturday off; that’s not quite an accurate statement. I have church on Saturday mornings (Seventh Day Baptist, thank you), but I’m usually late, and later when I’m more tired. I made it in ample time to hear an excellent sermon this weekend, but it was a drag-yourself-out-of-bed effort to get there. Thus Sunday morning is the only day on which I am usually able to sleep in, and today I did so well into the afternoon. I then had disruptions dropped into my lap, and only now am preparing supper as the calendar is preparing to change. I’ve much to do, and do not relish being up late doing it. In my favor, though, there are no school buses in the morning.

I’m not going to complain about not accomplishing anything during my time off; it is, after all, time off. I stumbled upon the DVD copy of Sliding Doors, which has been missing since New Year’s Eve, but could not have been where I found it. I did a bit of Romans editing while waiting for a son who was browsing video games at Walmart, looking for a way to spend his money. I made a recording of one of the Collision songs, because I wanted one of the drummers to hear it, and because I think Brittany will have a better shot at learning the very difficult contrapuntal vocal instrumental duet if she has a good recording of it. I’m not saying this is a good recording, but it is at least an accurate rendering of what I expect of the song.

So I did a bit more than nothing, and I’m making a push at getting through the rest of today’s work tonight.

–M. J. Young