(At this point, I'd like to post an apology to Darin in Atlanta. As a mutual friend just reminded me, it's the OTHER Darrin (from Aussie-land) that spells his name with two R's. I always get them mixed up, and have been spelling Darin with two r's this whole week.. and previous to that, too, I think.)

I'd spent a few days with Renee and Darin, and a few with Michelle. I'd gotten to hang out with Brian and Akemi, and had seen some other people I hadn't seen in at least a year and a half, and in several cases much longer. And I'd met a lot of friends-of-friends.

I was leaving Michelle's to go back to Renee and Darin's (where I am now), and decided to get a little bit of gas before hitting the interstate, what with it being rush-hour and all that so that I figured I ought to get more than I needed to get down here, since rush-hour meant a lot of extra gas usage.

And then I stopped at a Kroger's on the same road to get some Starbucks' Ice Cream as a host/hostess gift for Renee and Darin, since they'd never even known Starbucks made ice cream, and since this is some of the most excellent stuff I've ever had. Plus, Renee had had an ice cream craving a few days before I got here, and I figure they strike me often enough that she might could use another pint before long.

On my way out of Kroger's, I stopped to get a box of Samoa's from the Girl Scout's at the end of the plaza. The two girls were really cute, trying to scream "Girl Scout Cookies" as much as they could. Today was a rather warm day, beautiful to be outside, but not so fun to be standing in one place trying to peddle your wares. And it didn't look like these girls were getting a great deal of business, and I was more than happy to help them out and feed my own craving at once. And there I was thinking the boxes were $4 each this year, but I was mistaken .. they were only $3. Party, bonus.

So I'm driving a rather indirect-by-this-time route from Michelle's to Renee and Darin's. I'm in the greater Atlanta area, in which I feel very much at home. And I've got a container of starbucks ice cream in my thermally-insulated Dr. Suess lunchbox (I figured even if I was lucky enough to not hit much rush hour traffic, I'd still better put it in there to reduce the meltage on the half-hour or so trip) and a box of my favorite girl scout cookies on the seat beside me, and a beautiful day to drive in, and my window's down, and there's a great mix tape playing.

It just happens that there were a few fun songs by Steve Taylor on this particular section, from his Squint album. (Thor, give it back to me soon!)

The songs were Bannerman, Sock Heaven, and Cash Cow. So Bannerman and Sock Heaven are two really fun songs, and Bannerman in particular has a lot of meaning for me. (There's an IRC chat room I used to chat in a lot that was named #bannerman and I'm still really good friends with many of the folks from it, which also just happens to be how I met Renee.)

And then Cash Cow comes on. For those of you not familiar with Squint, or Steve Taylor for that matter, Cash Cow is this "rock opera in three small acts" that is absolutely hilarious. It's basically this very humerous (if not cynical .. I really do think it's more realistic than cynical, though.. but then, I'm cynical and jaded myself, so perhaps I'm not the best judge) look at how civilizations throughout time, and our American rumpuses in particular, have this obsession with mula.

And there's this line where Steve says/sings "Who loves power lunching from Spago to the Sizzler?" and then in his maniacal voice sounding like it's coming from a bit of a distance: "Guess who's coming to dinner?!?" *insert maniacal laughter here.*

Have you ever had one of those moments when you were just ceased by joy? When there wasn't someone that just handed you a 20 dollar bill (though that's a very nice thing), nor did you just hear about the friend you were a bridesmaid for possibly getting pregnant (though I'd imagine that's a great feeling, too).. but something, somehow, just a bunch of little random things combined, I guess .. and you just smile, and feel so happy like there's something welling up inside your soul that's just gonna spew itself out all over the whole world and then flowers will sprout everwhere and people will never fight again and short of someone you really care about that isn't a Christian passing away, nothing could make you the slightest bit upset at that moment?

That's what happened right then. The line triggered it, I reckon, and I couldn't help joining in the laughter, though mine was a tad less maniacal. (btw.. if you ever talk to me in person and I feel a hankering to use the word maniacal, I'll more likely than not pronounce it maniac-ul. I also usually say protest-ant rather than the proper pronounciation for protestant. That's just me. In my head as I type, I keep reminding myself it's mah-nie-uh-kuhl, but each time I type it it just sounds so much like may-knee-ack-ul.)

And so even getting onto the freeway to see loads of very backed-up rush-hour traffic, and even realizing that I wasn't entirely certain of which exit I was taking to get back to Renee's (I'd taken a different interstate down, so the directions I had wouldn't help me much from here), and even realizing that Atlanta people -- though they are generally a fairly southern group of people filled with southern hospitality and common sense -- do not apparently have the southern hospitality extension to driving. As a whole, they're not a group that let people merge very well. And then when someone does let others merge, he or she lets about 20 cars "merge" in front of him/her at the same time, thus kinda defeating the purpose. Can we say "alternate", boys and girls?

Not that I'm road ragish .. (long-time or complete readers know that I have serious issues with the whole concept of road rage..) .. just that it struck me as rather odd.

At any rate, even that couldn't upset me at all. The joy had lain hold. And it's lasted all night, to this very moment.

Of course, watching the Cash Cow video when Renee and I got back from the coffeehouse we went to tonite (it was open mic night, so we were highly entertained by a crazy group of folks with good voices and nice guitars for the most part. And some GREAT sammiches before hand. Check out the Sycamore Tree Coffeehouse if you're ever in the Atlanta area. Go there as often as you can. Their sammich and coffee and such sales go to helping the coffeehouse stay open as a ministry to teens in the area.) helped to keep the unceasing-joy going strong.

Good stuff. Joy is a wonderful thing, and I'm so glad God's grace has poured out on us to bring us such a great gift.

Check out Steve Taylor while you're at it... one of the most incredible, creative lyricists I know of.