Lately, I've been reading Bob Dylan's "Chronicles, Volume 1" and really enjoy the writing style and commentary that Dylan provides on his own life. It's inspired me this week to give some short childhood chronicles of my own, so that you all can get a window into the strange child that I was.

It might explain how I've become such a strange adult.

One big thing was that I'd learned to read before I went to Kindergarten. This turned me into a cynic. I couldn't believe I was wasting time in Kindergarten on the Letter People when I not only knew the letters, but complete words. "I'm smarter than this", I thought. This also turned me into a voracoius reader. I would consume books while I'd consume Faygo's Rock 'n' Rye soda after school. I always loved reading contests in school, for example, where you'd get a prize for reading so many books. In one of the contests, I won a Mattel Electronic Football game, which was basically a bunch of red dots moving around underneath a transparent piece of dark plastic with a gridiron painted on it. Football, indeed!

During my reading, I developed an interest in the Revolutionary War. I was fascinated by the triumph of the underdog, and that aspect of the story still inspires me. I made a board game based on it, in which you could be George Washington, Paul Revere, John Hancock or Charles Cornwallis the British general), and in which you would move about taxing people or fighting against taxes, and so forth. I researched this game by using my forty-year old Encyclopedia set that my mother had bought from a thrift store.

Yes, I was that kid. The kid who makes board games. The kid who read encyclopedias. If I hadn't been such a big kid, I would have gotten beaten up on a regular basis.

When my second grade teacher asked about a piece of music called "Bolero", and asked us what movie the piece of music was recently in, my exact words were, "from the movie of the same name". It was just a guess, and it was wrong, although I knew that Bo Derek (yes, Bo Derek) had a movie out with that name. I'd seen the trailers for it on television. When I said that phrase, the whole class laughed. I'd phrased my response in a semi-intelligent way, and they were having none of it.

Again, I was that kid. The kid who said things differently, who knew things, and who did advanced spelling homework for fun.

I was also the kind of kid that watched the news, and was interested in current events. By the time I was in the middle of grade school, I could tell you the names of Presidential candidates, cabinet members and world leaders. For example, I remember that some guy named John Anderson was an independent candidate for president in 1980. I was six years old. I was also confused when, a couple of years later, a guy named John Anderson hit it big in country music. Such is the mind of me as a kid.

And, one more time, let me say that I was that kid. The kid who thought about politics and remembered names, places and history. And liked it.

So, when the Falkland Islands were invaded by Argentina, and the U.S. came to the aid of the British, who occupied the island, I was aghast, to say the least. These were the guys who were our enemies, I thought. We had to fight them to be free during the Revolutionary War. Now we're helping them? What gives? When I had said all this to adults, they kept telling me that the British were our friends now. "It was a long time ago", they said. Beyond that, I didn't get much of an answer. It seems that I'd missed the reconciliatory history of the U.S. and Britian.

Forward your DVD chapter a couple of spots to me learning about WWII. You know, "the Big One". The one in which we allied with Russia to fight the Axis powers. I really could not wrap my grey matter around this one. We were, when I was a child, in the middle of the Cold War with the Soviet Union, of which Russia was the primary power. These guys were bad guys, telling their people how much toilet paper to use, listening to our conversations, and preparing to blow us back to the Stone Age with nuclear weapons. "We fought along side these guys?" I said, in disbelief. Berlin, with it's four divisions of power, really blew my mind. How could something like that happen?

And what made it even more terrible in my mind was that I was personally afraid of a nuclear war. Really, I lost sleep and cried tears over this when I was a kid. That, and alien invasion. I loved to watch the miniseries "V" when it was on T.V., and then I'd be scared for the next few days at bedtime. I didn't want them to make me frozen dinner, and by that I don't mean aliens microwaving Salisbury steak for me. I mean that I would be the Salisbury steak. It scared the crud out of me.

I'd pull the the blankets up over my head. "Maybe they'll think I'm just a big pillow", I'd hope. "Even aliens don't eat pillows, right?"

So, I could not understand why, in just a few short years, we went from fighting with them, to fighting (Cold War style, anyway) against them. When I asked why, of teachers and other adults, I got very little in the way of answers. Maybe they thought I couldn't understand the whole picutre of why this had happened. Maybe I was a very annoying child. Nah, couldn't be that!

I also wonder, though, if it was that people tend to shy away from complexity. The answers I got so many times when I was a kid were simple, because, perhaps, simple is easier. And "simple would describe a lot of the advice (much of it unsolicited) that I would receive. "You'll grow out of it" or "It's just a phase" were things that I'd heard a lot. I heard them in regard to music, especially. Music has been such a big part of my life emotionally, spiritually and even financially that it illustrates what I think about conventional wisdom: for me, it's been wrong about half of the time.

Still, there was no point in discussing it. Although the debates that I'd had with adults when I was a kid have served me well, I learned eventually that you really don't change minds or even hearts. They know they're right, at least they are firm in their convictions. So many people don't have the passion, inclination or knowledge to get into nuanced discussion. Most people don't have the stomach to get to the heart of what they believe. But, when we're talking about spiritual things, "God said it, I believe it, that settles it" won't work here. You're selling God short if you leave your discussions there. God has excellent reasons for what laid out in His word. Shouldn't we be talking about those reasons?

So, if half of the conventional wisdom or advice I heard was bad, that means that it's been right about half of the time. Which was good, since there was a lot about life that I could not read in books. For example, when I was five, I was just sure that I was going to marry my cousin. Yes, it's true. After all, she was fun. Isn't that all you need to know to marry someone? "No", my grandfather said. "You just can't marry your cousin." He would grumble. "But why?", I would ask. "Because it's not right", he said, at which point other adults would chime in as well with more of the same. This was one situation where it was just a phase, of course. I did not marry my cousin, nor do I support Same-Cousin marriage, mired in controversy as it is. But I distinctly remember no one being able to give me reasons why this was a bad idea. This shouldn't have been a tough one to answer!

Now I'm a dad, and I'm determined to let my son know everything. When he asks "Why?", I tell him "why". He should know how life works, and why Summar and I believe what we believe. When I say, "no", he knows why, because I tell him why. "Because I said so" is not allowed in my house. He deserves better.

We tend to shy away from getting to the heart of why something is good or bad. I don't understand this. If you believe something strongly, shouldn't you be able to say why? Social issues for Christians are handled too often in this lackadasical way. Usually, people are against something because it is harmful to people physically, mentally, spiritually or financially. Often, however, people are against something simply because everyone else is. Is there any reason why we can't express what we believe in clear, meaningful terms? Even our rationale for our beliefs is usually copped from other sources, like famous preachers or Christian activists. We might quote them because it sounds good, but do we really prayerfully think these issues through?

Peter gives us this great, sage advice: "Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander." (1 Peter 3:15-16)

Soon, Dylan will ask me why we go to church. Eventually, he'll ask me why we believe in God, and possibly some other, far more difficult questions if and/or when he wrestles with his faith. I am determined to be prepared to give an answer for the hope I have. My encouragement is that we are all ready with an answer, a well-thought-out, prayed-over, from-the-heart answer.

SUCH AN EASY QUESTION by Elvis Presley
(words & music by Otis Blackwell & Winfield Scott)

Do you or don't you love me
Such an easy question
Why can't I get an answer
Tell me, will you or won't you need me
Such an easy question
Why can't I get an answer

All you do is give a sigh
And beat around the bush
Can it be that you're too shy
To give yourself a little old push
Can you or can't you tell me yes
It's such an easy question
Why can't I get an answer