Thanks to all of you who have submitted questions to the Ask Thirsty post. You are probably thinking by now that I have chickened out and decided to ignore your questions and hope you forget. That would be mostly incorrect. With the exception of the two who asked about eschatology, and some of those submitted by email (are you serious?), I am completely unintimidated.

My plan is to have one ready next week. I am tentatively thinking of answering on eschatology first, because if you let me live after that one, I know I can survive anything. I promise you one thing: you will be exceedingly disappointed.

In the meantime, I'll tackle some of the lighter questions.

What is your quest?

My quest is to see my five stunningly beautiful, highly intelligent daughters married to Master's Seminary graduates. Applications may be sent here. I am also aiming to see my three sons put impressive letters behind their names, or become successful entrepreneurs. Godly character would be nice, too. We're working on that.

What is your favorite color?

Whatever blends into the background. You can't be too careful.

What is the air speed velocity of an air-laden swallow?

I've already answered this in the comments, but it bears repeating:

This is, of course, assuming the swallow in question is Hirundo rustica Linnaeus, the North American Barn Swallow. Other Swallow species may vary as much as +/- 3.5° Kelvin.

Tell us about your stint in Montana, and why it reminded you of purgatory.

It reminded me of Purgatory because:
1. It was the extreme northeast corner of the state. If you've been there, you understand.
2. These were not the happiest years of my life. I was not well-liked, and did not have many friends. I have come to the conclusion that this was because a) these were the years from eighth through twelfth grade, and people that age are not only not very nice people, they are barely people, and b) I was not very likable. If I could get in a time machine and go back to the early eighties, I would steer clear of me. I would not let my children associate with me.
3. The church we attended consisted largely of Pharisees - and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

On the positive side, the deer hunting was superb. The landowner where we often hunted was a great guy, even if he used some words that made his sweet, gracious wife blush. Thanks, Lyle.

I guess maybe my Purgatory was not mostly Montana's fault. Hey, Thanks, Nathan. This was a good piece of therapy. OK, everybody, group hug!

Thanks again for your questions, and keep them coming.