SBC 2008 Day 3, continued – And who do I make this out to?

No, this isn't really the author of The Baptist Way.

Today was pretty uneventful. It’s just the Pastors’ Conference, which means I’m pretty much off duty. I more or less cruised the Exhibit Hall looking for the good swag, and, to be honest, this year’s crop isn’t that great. I snagged a few nice pens and a crappy OBU mini Frisbee and that was about it. Oh, and I entered a drawing for an iPod Nano.

My only assignment of the day was to shoot (with a camera, not a gun) a professor from SBU signing his book at the bookstore. The sad thing was NOBODY was buying his book. There was another author sitting next to him and she was quite popular. I guess there’s just not a huge market for The Baptist Way, even at the SBC. I felt really sorry for him. Heck I would have bought his book if I didn’t already have it for my polity class last fall. After about 20 minutes he persuaded a woman to buy a copy for her husband and I was able to snag the pic. Thank goodness.

It rained for a good portion of today, which isn’t good news for most of Indiana. It also hailed, which makes me wonder if Mr. Valet Parking Man parked my car in an indoor garage. Hmm.

At 6 I trekked across down to the Marriott to meet my boss and associate editor for a dinner hosted by the Association of Baptist Newspapers. To answer your questions, no, we are not an exciting or dynamic group of individuals and yes, we do have fashion sense rivaling that of retarded spider monkeys. My favorite is the super-short tie that doesn’t make it 2/3 of the way to the belt buckle (which, according to GQ, is the proper resting place for the tip of a tie). To answer your next question, yes, I was probably the only one there with a subscription to GQ (not that you would be able to tell by my style, but at least my tie looks decent). Then of course there’s my editor who rocks the bow-tie, complete with the wrinkled cotton suit.

My hotel (no, I’m not in the Hilton anymore ☹) is housed in the old Indianapolis Union Station and it is still a working Amtrak station. It’s really cool and has two trains of about five cars each that each house suites. It’s pretty suite. Sweet. Sorry. I’ll post some pictures tomorrow.

Ta ta for now!

Loyal to my alma mater, God bless OBU!

Saturday I was in Hannibal for work and witnessed Hannibal-LaGrange College’s May commencement. It was a beautiful ceremony and I’m not ashamed to say I teared up a little.

I’m a sucker for pomp and circumstance (throw a bagpiper in there and I’m a goner), but 90 percent of the emotions came from remembering my graduation three years ago. It made me infinitely proud to be sitting in Raley Chapel, to hear my father pray on stage in full academic regalia, to shake hands with the university president as I received my sheepskin and to sing the hymn to my now true alma mater. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about OBU in one way or another, usually in the context of using a principle, lesson or mantra that Mr. Todd so lovingly drilled into my head.

With the mushy stuff out of the way, here are some petty reasons OBU is better than HLG:

OBU is way better at sports.
I graduated in a beautiful chapel. They graduated in a field house.
Ka-Rip. ‘Nuff said.
The Bison is a well thought out, historically and culturally appropriate mascot. What the heck do Trojans have to do with a small Baptist School in Mark Twain’s hometown?
For better or worse, OBU has a journalism program. Eat that, HLG.
OBU is more expensive.
OBU has waaaaaay more fun during their chapel services.
OBU’s alumni includes two astronauts.
HLG students never know the joy that is wearing beanies.
OBU is in Oklahoma while HLG is in Missouri and is less than five miles from (GASP!) Illinois!
Green and Gold are infinitely superior to Blue and Red.
OBU shares it's hometown with Brad Pitt. So there.
They did have a bagpiper (why, nobody knows) to lead their version of The Walk, but that's nothing compared to OBU's, where you finish your academic career surrounded by your faculty friends and mentors.
My hymn to the alma mater rocks (click to listen). Theirs? Not so much (it isn't even posted online).

The Incredible Case of the Super-Sonic Coney Pony

This story just keeps getting funnier each time I read it. God bless those two idiots. (But shame on them for soiling the good name of OBU and stealing from one of my favorites eateries.)

Road Trip '08 - Day 3

Syracuse, NY

Today was Take-A-Look-Around-Syracuse-And-Pray-Leslie-Doesn’t-Hate-It Day.

Fortunately, she didn’t hate it. In fact, she really liked it and felt very much at home. We toured campus and it was very pretty. There were students lounging around on the Quad and it looked like a postcard. It made me miss OBU.

It was also ridiculously warm. According the Internet (and everyone knows what you read online is true), the average temp in July is 70.4 degrees. Of course, today it was 87 degrees. The Syracuse Physical Plant hasn’t thrown the switch from Winter to Summer, so we sweltered whether we were inside or out and about.

We met with the director of Leslie’s program (I can’t remember what it’s called, but it’s a lot of letters), Dr. Scott McWonderbeard. He was actually very cool and if I were enrolling as a grad student at Syracuse, I’d be excited that he would be one of my profs. He is an Okie and did his undergrad and masters at OU. He is also an ubergeek. Want proof? He has developed a board game he’s marketing in Germany about the action surrounding the bursting economic bubble of the 1750s Amsterdam tulip market. I’m not even joking. He was still cool though. I promise.

Two students from Leslie’s betrothed program gave us a brief tour of campus and answered Leslie’s questions while I sat back and marveled at the sheer volume of information they were spouting.

Syracuse bought us lunch at this fun Irish pub and I had a very good Philly chicken sandwich.

After our official stuff was in the can and Leslie officially matriculated, we bought some Syracuse swag in the bookstore and returned to hotel to clean up and rest.

We both had some postcards to mail so Leslie googled the nearest post office. My GPS directed us there and it turns out it is the single most secure post office on the planet. It’s all good, though, because we made it out with our postcard stamps and our civil liberties intact.

Next, we went to Carousel Center, which thinks it is a really cool mall. I’d give it a 7 at best. We shopped around Borders, counseled my sister to enter an OBU Guitar Hero tourney and caught the 4 p.m. showing of Smart People. It was pretty good, but it was hard to pin down a certain theme. I must, however, give full marks Thomas Hayden Church and Ellen Page.

After the movie, we came back to the hotel and ordered pizza as we watched TV.

BK out.