In my Bible study last week we started on the book of John. Much of last week's discussion focused on the opening verses: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made..."
Elsewhere I've seen it pointed out that God created with words--he created by speaking. God said, "Let there be light," and there was light, and so on. So when John says that all things were created by God through the Word, that is exactly the way the creation story in Genesis tells it.
In the car this morning I heard a piece by one of the journalists about a family member, a niece I think, who had died of cancer in her early twenties. This is the sort of event that leaves most of us at a loss for words, and yet, this man spoke about her last days, and how she lived with her illness, and her spirit in a very sweet story that brought tears to my eyes, even though I don't know the man or his niece. This is the power of expression, to share, to move, to persuade. It is a creative act, to express ourselves.
I was in my car on the way to church, because our choir was singing in a memorial service. The service was for Rod Wilmoth, former pastor at the church who retired about five years ago, and who recently committed suicide. I never heard Rod speak myself, but my mother-in-law loved him and his sermons, and it was clear from those who shared during the service that Rod was a great storyteller and had a gift for expression.
My daughters were involved in speech in high school, and my oldest chose storytelling as her area. This was kind of a revelation to me--competitive storytelling. There was a known set of stories, a repertoire, and each participant had to become familiar with these stories. In a speech meet, you would essentially draw a story, and you told that story. So everyone already knew the story you told, it was up to you to tell it well.
Tonight I went to a lovely concert given by The Singers (there's an original name), an a cappella choral group. One of the works they performed was Frank Martin's Mass for Double Choir. I was already familiar with this piece because I have a recording of it--it is very beautiful, and The Singers did a wonderful job singing it tonight. Although it is wonderful to be able to have a recording to listen to anytime, I can't really describe the difference between hearing a live performance of a piece and hearing a recorded version. Not to be too literal about it, in a live performance, you are aware that live people are producing the sound. Somehow that fullness, the body and breath, the aliveness, cannot be captured by microphones and recording media.
It cannot even really reproduce the sound you hear. The concert was in the Basilica of St. Mary, and enormous stone church with a huge vaulted ceiling, where a piercing final chord reverberates for a couple seconds before dying away. And music has the power to pierce straight into your heart in an unavoidable way. I am not a particulary emotional person in general, but music, or a story, can bore into me in a way I do not understand. The Martin mass started up tonight, and I had goosebumps all through the Kyrie. Music is sometimes shameless in the way it plays your heartstrings for a fool (as are storytellers), and the composer knows exactly what he or she is doing.
Although the music is beautiful on its own, I like to follow along with the words when I listen. Tonight I found I enjoyed this piece even more when I realized what the text was at certain moments. The third movement is a Credo, or creed. The words are similar to many creeds spoken in many church services, somewhat lengthy and boring recitations of the facts of the matter. It was sung in Latin, so fortunately we had a printed copy of the Latin as well as the translation, for easy following along. Martin beautifully sets the opening, which speaks of God and of Jesus, his only Son, the light of the world. There is the awe-filled mystery that Jesus came to Earth in human form, the incarnation. Then the tenor section suddenly comes in with a pain-filled "Crucifixus"--he was crucified. (Forgive my nerdiness, but I can't help but think of the crucio spell in Harry Potter, which is used to cause excruciating pain.) Then he suffered--the word impossibly quiet and long--and was buried. After a pregnant pause, the sopranos joyfully inform us next that he was resurrected and ascended into heaven.
It is a completely familiar text that many could recite on autopilot, here brought to life in such a way as to remind us of the magnitude of the words.
A little later in the program they did Morten Lauridsen's O Magnum Mysterium, another piece quite familiar to anyone with much exposure to choral music because this one is immensely popular. The text for the piece is quite short, it is essentially the fact that it was animals who witnessed the birth of Jesus Christ is a great mystery and a "wondrous sacrament." It also says "Blessed virgin, whose womb was deemed worthy to carry the Lord Jesus Christ." Somehow when you hear this in the Latin it evokes the humanness and messiness of birth for me, I suppose because in English we have the word "visceral." The Latin text is: "O beata Virgo, cujus viscera meruerunt portare Dominum Jesum Christum."
Do yourself a favor and go listen to it. Here is one link, performed by a group from the University of Santo Tomas in the Philippines. I can't vouch for how well they do the piece because I'm a layman when it comes to music, except to say that they are very much on pitch and they have lovely uniforms you're going to enjoy. And the recording isn't very good but you're not likely to do much better on youtube.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Miscellaneous
I forgot to link last night to Ezra Klein's great post about the Republican budget proposal. (I'd give a hat tip, but everyone linked to it. Post is titled My Favorite Budget Ever.)
Also, MPR had a great story this morning about a pep band from the combined Ada-Borup schools. They have a director who decided to have the kids play music they like, and it is some pretty entertaining stuff. Here is the link to the radio story, and here's a video of the band. (I was hoping for some rap or headbanging in the video, but if I hear it right, it is actually a contemporary Christian song you hear worship bands in church do.)
Also enjoyed this twitter (tweet?) from Glenn Greenwald: "I need to put this Twitter down before I turn into @anamariecox. This is an evil instrument of temptation and sin."
Then there was this beaut from my representative for U. S. Congress, Michele Bachmann, speaking on Sean Hannity's radio show about the desparate times facing us with President Obama leading us down the "lane of economic Marxism": "Where freedom is tried, the people rejoice. But where tyranny is enforced upon the people, as Barack Obama is doing, the people suffer and mourn. ... Do we get into an inner tube and float 90 miles to some free country? There is no free country for us to repair to. That's why it's up to us now."
Also, MPR had a great story this morning about a pep band from the combined Ada-Borup schools. They have a director who decided to have the kids play music they like, and it is some pretty entertaining stuff. Here is the link to the radio story, and here's a video of the band. (I was hoping for some rap or headbanging in the video, but if I hear it right, it is actually a contemporary Christian song you hear worship bands in church do.)
Also enjoyed this twitter (tweet?) from Glenn Greenwald: "I need to put this Twitter down before I turn into @anamariecox. This is an evil instrument of temptation and sin."
Then there was this beaut from my representative for U. S. Congress, Michele Bachmann, speaking on Sean Hannity's radio show about the desparate times facing us with President Obama leading us down the "lane of economic Marxism": "Where freedom is tried, the people rejoice. But where tyranny is enforced upon the people, as Barack Obama is doing, the people suffer and mourn. ... Do we get into an inner tube and float 90 miles to some free country? There is no free country for us to repair to. That's why it's up to us now."
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Singing, Part I
I've had a number of internet sites ask me recently for a profile, and I'm never sure how to describe myself. "Utterly, consumately ordinary. Wallflower. Scary suburban Prozac-type existence. That default silhouette under 'Photo' is a good resemblance." (This is not a description I would recommend for LinkedIn.)
I have eschewed the wife-and-mother description, settling instead on the things I enjoy doing. First on the list is generally singing, which I guess is fair because I do devote several hours each week to singing in a church choir.
Growing up I loved to sing, and I think this sprang from two things. One, I have always loved going to church, and Methodists are very big on singing. I love hymns. There's all this business today about how people don't want to sing hymns in church--the texts are weird, the music is old-fashioned. Well I loved them as a kid, and they were mostly old even then--I grew up in the 70s when we defined "square". One of the reasons I love church is the singing.
The other thing was that my parents both love music. We had a console stereo and a closet full of LPs--my dad's classical albums, and my mother's collection of Big Band, country, and miscellaneous Hawaiian, Tijuana Brass, etc. (If you have not heard the Tijuana Brass, you must watch here. The sound is poor, and there's a guy playing an enormous drum set in his shorts, but it is the original recording. I guarantee your butt will be dancing in your chair.) I grew up listening to classic singers I can't even name, learning all the words and singing along. (I particularly liked a very jazzy version of "Green Eyes", and another jazzy version of "Fever." I always liked the jazzy versions--the sort of off-beat stuff.)
Once I got old enough to discover AM radio, that opened up the world of popular music which was a somewhat psychedelic place in the 70s. Instead of Britney Spears we had John Denver and Cat Stevens and Led Zeppelin. For my 16th birthday I got my own stereo, complete with cassette tape recorder. My uncle sent me three tapes--Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand. Who knows how many hours my mother had to listen to me singing along with Barbra in my room (on headphones, probably--to make it worse).
But that's nothing compared to the hours my mother had to listen to me practicing the piano growing up. (She would say I should have spent more hours than I did practicing, but she's probably thankful I didn't.) My folks got me a piano when I was in the third grade. Now that I look back on it, that was an amazing leap of faith. I don't remember any discussions leading up to this--maybe they made me swear in blood that I would play for N years if they got it, but I don't remember. They got the piano, put me in lessons, and I went. I may not have been a very willing practicer, but I loved playing the piano. The piano is so expressive. I still love to play if I can find something I can get through fairly smoothly. I think I thought there was some natural progression where you just got better and better until you wound up being a concert pianist. It would have helped if I had been willing to dedicate more than 29.5 minutes per day, but as it was, I did not have a lot of natural ability. I had to work for a long time on each and every song to get it to the point where I could play all but one page of it pretty well--there was always one page that was just impossible.
(To truly understand my mother's patience, you must know that I had a teacher that really liked 20th century music. I had an entire book of Bartok. Here is a little piece of Bartok. I didn't play anything nearly this difficult, but it was just as weird. And since it was weird, you had to play it over and over and over until you got it. The strange thing was that after you played one of these things twenty zillion times, sometimes you wound up kind of liking it. A sort of Stockholm syndrome for musicians.)
Something to do with the fact that you had to practice the piano, and work on your technique, made it seem like much more of a challenge than singing. Singing just happened when you opened your mouth. To this day I am too nervous to play the piano for anyone, even my husband, but I will sing for anybody no problem. I wasn't about to give up on the piano, until finally in college I realized that I had probably gotten as good as I was ever going to get. It's sort of like Guitar Hero. I've finished the Medium level, and I'm probably not going to make a lot of progress on Hard. Way too much of life seems like that. There's a bunch of things you can get to be reasonably decent at, but then you hit your limit. If you think of school and captains choosing up teams (I was always near the end if it was athletic), there are only a few activities I can think of where I'm good enough to be selected early on. (Pictionary is the only thing leaping to mind, really). My limit usually seems to be right around "mediocre", I'm not sure if that is normal or if it varies by individual.
Singing is one of those things, however, where it is too scary to wonder how good you are. Some days, some situations, you think--darn I'm good. Yeah. Then other times you hear other people being *so* good and you think "what the heck was I thinking? What exactly do I think I'm doing here?" Maybe it isn't singing, maybe it is just whatever you think you are pretty good at. Maybe that is the thing where you are vulnerable because you want to be good.
[Update: more music links in the comments.]
I have eschewed the wife-and-mother description, settling instead on the things I enjoy doing. First on the list is generally singing, which I guess is fair because I do devote several hours each week to singing in a church choir.
Growing up I loved to sing, and I think this sprang from two things. One, I have always loved going to church, and Methodists are very big on singing. I love hymns. There's all this business today about how people don't want to sing hymns in church--the texts are weird, the music is old-fashioned. Well I loved them as a kid, and they were mostly old even then--I grew up in the 70s when we defined "square". One of the reasons I love church is the singing.
The other thing was that my parents both love music. We had a console stereo and a closet full of LPs--my dad's classical albums, and my mother's collection of Big Band, country, and miscellaneous Hawaiian, Tijuana Brass, etc. (If you have not heard the Tijuana Brass, you must watch here. The sound is poor, and there's a guy playing an enormous drum set in his shorts, but it is the original recording. I guarantee your butt will be dancing in your chair.) I grew up listening to classic singers I can't even name, learning all the words and singing along. (I particularly liked a very jazzy version of "Green Eyes", and another jazzy version of "Fever." I always liked the jazzy versions--the sort of off-beat stuff.)
Once I got old enough to discover AM radio, that opened up the world of popular music which was a somewhat psychedelic place in the 70s. Instead of Britney Spears we had John Denver and Cat Stevens and Led Zeppelin. For my 16th birthday I got my own stereo, complete with cassette tape recorder. My uncle sent me three tapes--Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand. Who knows how many hours my mother had to listen to me singing along with Barbra in my room (on headphones, probably--to make it worse).
But that's nothing compared to the hours my mother had to listen to me practicing the piano growing up. (She would say I should have spent more hours than I did practicing, but she's probably thankful I didn't.) My folks got me a piano when I was in the third grade. Now that I look back on it, that was an amazing leap of faith. I don't remember any discussions leading up to this--maybe they made me swear in blood that I would play for N years if they got it, but I don't remember. They got the piano, put me in lessons, and I went. I may not have been a very willing practicer, but I loved playing the piano. The piano is so expressive. I still love to play if I can find something I can get through fairly smoothly. I think I thought there was some natural progression where you just got better and better until you wound up being a concert pianist. It would have helped if I had been willing to dedicate more than 29.5 minutes per day, but as it was, I did not have a lot of natural ability. I had to work for a long time on each and every song to get it to the point where I could play all but one page of it pretty well--there was always one page that was just impossible.
(To truly understand my mother's patience, you must know that I had a teacher that really liked 20th century music. I had an entire book of Bartok. Here is a little piece of Bartok. I didn't play anything nearly this difficult, but it was just as weird. And since it was weird, you had to play it over and over and over until you got it. The strange thing was that after you played one of these things twenty zillion times, sometimes you wound up kind of liking it. A sort of Stockholm syndrome for musicians.)
Something to do with the fact that you had to practice the piano, and work on your technique, made it seem like much more of a challenge than singing. Singing just happened when you opened your mouth. To this day I am too nervous to play the piano for anyone, even my husband, but I will sing for anybody no problem. I wasn't about to give up on the piano, until finally in college I realized that I had probably gotten as good as I was ever going to get. It's sort of like Guitar Hero. I've finished the Medium level, and I'm probably not going to make a lot of progress on Hard. Way too much of life seems like that. There's a bunch of things you can get to be reasonably decent at, but then you hit your limit. If you think of school and captains choosing up teams (I was always near the end if it was athletic), there are only a few activities I can think of where I'm good enough to be selected early on. (Pictionary is the only thing leaping to mind, really). My limit usually seems to be right around "mediocre", I'm not sure if that is normal or if it varies by individual.
Singing is one of those things, however, where it is too scary to wonder how good you are. Some days, some situations, you think--darn I'm good. Yeah. Then other times you hear other people being *so* good and you think "what the heck was I thinking? What exactly do I think I'm doing here?" Maybe it isn't singing, maybe it is just whatever you think you are pretty good at. Maybe that is the thing where you are vulnerable because you want to be good.
[Update: more music links in the comments.]
Blogging chops
This is why I worry that it is pointless to try and start a blog. How exactly do you compete with stuff like this (from Joel Achenbach, who writes the Achenblog for the Washington Post):
[Bulletin: Looking mighty equinoctial out there. We're in the countdown, less than 24 hours until the astronomical start of spring. This means a massive wardrobe change. Out: Dark clothes, bulky sweaters, woolly garments. In: Nudity. Wearing nothing but a bow tie while sprinting through the neighbors' flowerbeds. Retrieving acorns buried in November. Howling at the moon, or at least hissing at it, while roasting fresh roadkill (squirrel, skunk, something unidentifable but furry and now very flat) on a spit over a fire fueled entirely by my unsold books. You know: Spring stuff. Bring it on!](The rest of the post, entitled "Spare Me Your Natterings", is pretty funny even if it is about blogging. OK I'm really really going to bed now.)
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Wednesday roundup
Its the mid-week slump in blogging. It was our turn to bring treats to choir this week, and this choir takes the treat thing very seriously. You don't just show up with a pan of bars. You put out a spread--often fruit/veggies, some sort of dip or other topping with crackers or chips, something sweet, and beverages. Heck, generally there is a tablecloth involved (yes, I brought one tonight).
So last night I baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies. (Realized that it has been a really long time since I baked any cookies. I have been in a baking slump--I didn't even bake any Christmas cookies this year!) Then I decided that one batch of cookies was not going to be enough--we're talking 60 people here. (Although it turned out that a rather large number of people were not there tonight. It didn't occur to me to check the pitiful excuses book for tonight prior to making our plans.) So I also made a pan of Rice Krispy bars, and sliced up cheese.
Tom handled the fruit and veggies and schlepped all the refrigerables to church, since he comes home between work and choir. Then of course tonight was the usual Bible study/choir practice deal, which makes for a very long day. And then I came home and cleaned up the kitchen.
So, I have some thoughts on a couple topics (all about me of course, but what else do columnists write about anyway? Write what you know...) that I was sort of assembling in one place this evening. Being new to this organizing-your-thoughts business, I'm not really sure where to begin or how to proceed, so I guess I'll just be muddling through. But it is too late to start tonight.
I will note, finally, that there were two babies this week. Andrew at work and his wife had their second, Bethany Anne. And another Andrew, our organist at church, and his wife Angel had their first on Sunday morning. (Saw an adorable picture of her tonight and heard her name, but I forget what it was. I'm pretty sure it didn't begin with "A" though.) And we have two choir members out--Don had an accident a week ago (I think he was broadsided) and had an operation on his brain, they are still waiting for him to wake up, and Chris had some sort of major ankle reorganization and is going to be recuperating for months it sounds like.
Oh--there were a few cookies left over. :-) (I noticed Tom didn't put them all out.)
So last night I baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies. (Realized that it has been a really long time since I baked any cookies. I have been in a baking slump--I didn't even bake any Christmas cookies this year!) Then I decided that one batch of cookies was not going to be enough--we're talking 60 people here. (Although it turned out that a rather large number of people were not there tonight. It didn't occur to me to check the pitiful excuses book for tonight prior to making our plans.) So I also made a pan of Rice Krispy bars, and sliced up cheese.
Tom handled the fruit and veggies and schlepped all the refrigerables to church, since he comes home between work and choir. Then of course tonight was the usual Bible study/choir practice deal, which makes for a very long day. And then I came home and cleaned up the kitchen.
So, I have some thoughts on a couple topics (all about me of course, but what else do columnists write about anyway? Write what you know...) that I was sort of assembling in one place this evening. Being new to this organizing-your-thoughts business, I'm not really sure where to begin or how to proceed, so I guess I'll just be muddling through. But it is too late to start tonight.
I will note, finally, that there were two babies this week. Andrew at work and his wife had their second, Bethany Anne. And another Andrew, our organist at church, and his wife Angel had their first on Sunday morning. (Saw an adorable picture of her tonight and heard her name, but I forget what it was. I'm pretty sure it didn't begin with "A" though.) And we have two choir members out--Don had an accident a week ago (I think he was broadsided) and had an operation on his brain, they are still waiting for him to wake up, and Chris had some sort of major ankle reorganization and is going to be recuperating for months it sounds like.
Oh--there were a few cookies left over. :-) (I noticed Tom didn't put them all out.)
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Gaining on those Joneses
Story of my life--I am always at least a year late to any fad, if not a couple years. I turn up at the store trying to buy some of those shoes that everyone has, and the shoe industry has moved on to the next new thing. Those shoes no longer exist.
So I feel a little silly saying that today we took out a line of credit (OK, second mortgage) on our house, presumably to finance buying a lovely new camper. (It seems like I've been hearing some news stories about this sort of behavior lately... :-)
Speaking of the new camper, I am really excited about the new camper, and we don't even actually have it yet. Hopefully we will be going to Michigan to pick it up at the beginning of May, and then I will be really excited because it will be sitting right there in the driveway. I'll be able to go out anytime and sit in it. I'll be able to take stuff out there and figure out where to put it. And no, Mother, we haven't made any reservations for Memorial Day yet.
So I feel a little silly saying that today we took out a line of credit (OK, second mortgage) on our house, presumably to finance buying a lovely new camper. (It seems like I've been hearing some news stories about this sort of behavior lately... :-)
Speaking of the new camper, I am really excited about the new camper, and we don't even actually have it yet. Hopefully we will be going to Michigan to pick it up at the beginning of May, and then I will be really excited because it will be sitting right there in the driveway. I'll be able to go out anytime and sit in it. I'll be able to take stuff out there and figure out where to put it. And no, Mother, we haven't made any reservations for Memorial Day yet.
Snowmelt update
I was going to report that on the morning dog walk, all vestiges of snowplow mounds along the roadsides had melted, but I did see one small vestige on the north side of a large spruce tree. The yards seem mostly thawed--no longer leaking onto the sidewalks and curbs.
In the parking lot at work, all the spaces that were lost to large piles of snow have reappeared (I haven't had to park out in the outback this week!).
Monday, March 23, 2009
Sunday hookey
I want you to know that this week I actually have a couple of things planned that do not involve church. Well, not directly. I'm going to a women's expo thing on Friday (time permitting) that is a bunch of women's businesses (Stampin' Up, Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, etc) at the home of a friend, I do know her from church but otherwise, non-church. And I'm going with another friend (that I know from church) to a choral concert (at the basilica downtown--but it's not a church choir, just a concert that occurs in a church. A church with exceedingly uncomfortable pews--after twenty minutes you're praying its time to kneel and give your hip bones a rest, but I guess nobody kneels after Vatican II anymore. Perhaps the pope will do something about that).
You're thinking by now that all I talk about is church. I'm not going to talk about work, because that would really bore everyone to tears. And eventually I'll get started on our dogs, which might not be much better. (I got them half-clipped yesterday, maybe when I finish them up I'll post pictures. Kevin Drum has Friday cat blogging, I could do something similar.) But it is true, aside from work, church is probably the next largest thing in my life.
Our choir was not singing yesterday, and instead of going to church to support the guest choir that was there (naughty, naughty) I wanted to go to church at Central Lutheran. Check out the pictures here and here--it is enormous. Not only is it large, but it has a huge central square area--there is so much open space. Ringed around by large stained glass windows. Its really quite a bit smaller than the basilica, but the openness gives it a real "wow". (This church sits right next to the Minneapolis convention center.)
We've sung a few events at Central where all the downtown choirs were invited, and they have a really neat guy who is the organist/choir director. They have a newish organ which takes up almost the entire front of the church--it is gargantuan. Yesterday the choir was men only, but they sounded great.
Bits that we enjoyed: liturgy included the apostle's creed, Tom is very big on saying the creed. And he poked me as the Lord's prayer was coming up and pointed to the first two words in the bulletin, "Our Father." Our new church is meticulously gender-neutral (to a fault), and we say "Our God." For a Lutheran service, I thought most of the hymns were reasonably melodic. One of them was even one we know. (It was obvious we were Methodists by the fact that we sang along lustily--I had to glance around occasionally to reassure myself that the congregation was, in fact, supposed to be singing.)
Also there was communion. The sort where you go up and kneel in the front. Being Lutheran, it was actual wine. (I commented to Tom that for years that was probably the only way Lutherans got to have any alcohol.) And--they served the wine in little tiny individual silver stemmed chalices. I've never seen that before! (I tried to find a picture and could not, sorry.) I think it is really a little dicey for churches to serve wine. I mean, Jesus turned water into wine so fine that the guests were amazed at the quality. Communion wine is representative of Christ's blood. Given that churches can't probably afford a really decent vintage, it presents a rather uncomfortable symbolism. You can't really get into this dilemma with grape juice--grape juice is grape juice.
You're thinking by now that all I talk about is church. I'm not going to talk about work, because that would really bore everyone to tears. And eventually I'll get started on our dogs, which might not be much better. (I got them half-clipped yesterday, maybe when I finish them up I'll post pictures. Kevin Drum has Friday cat blogging, I could do something similar.) But it is true, aside from work, church is probably the next largest thing in my life.
Our choir was not singing yesterday, and instead of going to church to support the guest choir that was there (naughty, naughty) I wanted to go to church at Central Lutheran. Check out the pictures here and here--it is enormous. Not only is it large, but it has a huge central square area--there is so much open space. Ringed around by large stained glass windows. Its really quite a bit smaller than the basilica, but the openness gives it a real "wow". (This church sits right next to the Minneapolis convention center.)
We've sung a few events at Central where all the downtown choirs were invited, and they have a really neat guy who is the organist/choir director. They have a newish organ which takes up almost the entire front of the church--it is gargantuan. Yesterday the choir was men only, but they sounded great.
Bits that we enjoyed: liturgy included the apostle's creed, Tom is very big on saying the creed. And he poked me as the Lord's prayer was coming up and pointed to the first two words in the bulletin, "Our Father." Our new church is meticulously gender-neutral (to a fault), and we say "Our God." For a Lutheran service, I thought most of the hymns were reasonably melodic. One of them was even one we know. (It was obvious we were Methodists by the fact that we sang along lustily--I had to glance around occasionally to reassure myself that the congregation was, in fact, supposed to be singing.)
Also there was communion. The sort where you go up and kneel in the front. Being Lutheran, it was actual wine. (I commented to Tom that for years that was probably the only way Lutherans got to have any alcohol.) And--they served the wine in little tiny individual silver stemmed chalices. I've never seen that before! (I tried to find a picture and could not, sorry.) I think it is really a little dicey for churches to serve wine. I mean, Jesus turned water into wine so fine that the guests were amazed at the quality. Communion wine is representative of Christ's blood. Given that churches can't probably afford a really decent vintage, it presents a rather uncomfortable symbolism. You can't really get into this dilemma with grape juice--grape juice is grape juice.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
This week in church
We spent the evening at the annual spaghetti dinner/silent auction/youth choir concert of our "old" church. It had been quite awhile since we'd been there, and for this particular event pretty much the whole church shows up. So we knew we'd get to see a lot of our old friends and catch up a little, plus we could support the kids, and the concert is always good.
Despite what I've said about the church, this church was family to us for many years. The hardest part about deciding to go elsewhere was leaving behind all our friends. We were involved up to our noses for years, which means we knew a lot of people and spent a lot of hours there. Our kids grew up together.
This event has happened for enough years to be clothed in tradition. They always close with "This Little Light of Mine", except for a few years back when another song became special, so now they close first with that song, and then with This Little Light. And all the alumni of the group come up for This Little Light, as well as all the little kids who are effectively groupies. And the entire place knows the words to the songs and we all sing together. (And do the actions, of course. This is a sort of jazzy version of This Little Light, a song that comes in several well-known flavors.)
Several kids formed a band for the group so the music was live, which I like much better than the syrupy taped stuff. (The band was quite good, too.) I sat and listened, looking from face to face and trying to figure out which kids were which, they change so much as they grow into their teens. Trying to remember whether I had had this one or that one in confirmation class. The director spoke a little at the end, and sure enough, God was still good all the time.
We saw lots of old friends and had numerous conversations at dinner and after the concert. One thing I wonder about going to a new church is how long it will take to feel connected. We know quite a number of people from choir, of course, but our director runs a pretty strict rehearsal and there is not a lot of socializing allowed. I'm finding that some of the people in my Bible study make a point to stop and say hello on Sunday mornings, although the new church is quite a bit larger and has different services and even different gathering areas between services, so you don't necessarily cross people's paths on Sunday like you would in a smaller church. I know I won't really feel connected until I get involved in something, and for me that will be something besides choir (I can just go to choir and sing and not do much else). I'm trying to be patient.
Despite what I've said about the church, this church was family to us for many years. The hardest part about deciding to go elsewhere was leaving behind all our friends. We were involved up to our noses for years, which means we knew a lot of people and spent a lot of hours there. Our kids grew up together.
This event has happened for enough years to be clothed in tradition. They always close with "This Little Light of Mine", except for a few years back when another song became special, so now they close first with that song, and then with This Little Light. And all the alumni of the group come up for This Little Light, as well as all the little kids who are effectively groupies. And the entire place knows the words to the songs and we all sing together. (And do the actions, of course. This is a sort of jazzy version of This Little Light, a song that comes in several well-known flavors.)
Several kids formed a band for the group so the music was live, which I like much better than the syrupy taped stuff. (The band was quite good, too.) I sat and listened, looking from face to face and trying to figure out which kids were which, they change so much as they grow into their teens. Trying to remember whether I had had this one or that one in confirmation class. The director spoke a little at the end, and sure enough, God was still good all the time.
We saw lots of old friends and had numerous conversations at dinner and after the concert. One thing I wonder about going to a new church is how long it will take to feel connected. We know quite a number of people from choir, of course, but our director runs a pretty strict rehearsal and there is not a lot of socializing allowed. I'm finding that some of the people in my Bible study make a point to stop and say hello on Sunday mornings, although the new church is quite a bit larger and has different services and even different gathering areas between services, so you don't necessarily cross people's paths on Sunday like you would in a smaller church. I know I won't really feel connected until I get involved in something, and for me that will be something besides choir (I can just go to choir and sing and not do much else). I'm trying to be patient.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Day of Card-Making
I didn't get a lot accomplished today, but I had fun spending all afternoon working on cards and being with two friends. I made four of this card, which is a copy of one I made last month and decided I liked and wanted more of. (But I had given it out, so had to work from memory.) I also did some work on Easter cards but they are still in the preliminary stages.
Poor little squirrel
Today was action-packed, so I have run out of time to blog. However, I will offer up this video posted by Andrew today, of a squirrel who has gotten into a fermented pumpkin. It is pretty funny at first, although I found myself just feeling sorry for the squirrel after the first 30 seconds.
I also got an email today of the very cute animal picture variety, called Identity Theft? If I knew how to post it I would.
I also got an email today of the very cute animal picture variety, called Identity Theft? If I knew how to post it I would.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Good Cartoons
Oh, and Dan Froomkin highlighted a bunch of really good AIG cartoons today. (There were a couple good ones yesterday too, but today was like the motherlode.)
(Hmm. I see the Toles link in Dan's post is now showing Thursday's cartoon. Today's (Wednesday's) was pretty good, but I can't find a permalink to it. You'd have to look it up yourself. Nailing down these cartoons is tricky.)
(Hmm. I see the Toles link in Dan's post is now showing Thursday's cartoon. Today's (Wednesday's) was pretty good, but I can't find a permalink to it. You'd have to look it up yourself. Nailing down these cartoons is tricky.)
To Be Outraged or Not To Be Outraged
I was trying to figure out where the post I wrote this morning went, and eventually I realized it is in a file on my computer at work. I can't actually get at this blog from work, unless I do it through my Blackberry. I wrote a post at work and didn't email it to myself at google, so now it is old news. (I can't get to google docs from work either! It's kind of like an alternate reality.)
I was listening to radio stories during my morning commute about the AIG bonuses, and the story seems to have since gone meta. Who is outraged, who is not. What it says about you if you are or are not outraged. Plus: Limbaugh and Hannity think the bonuses are fine.
The most annoying thing to me is the play acting. The politicians having to look shocked and disappointed that their banking buddies would do this awful thing. The CEO having to sadly declare that it was simply necessary, nothing anyone could do. Meanwhile, none of this even happens until the button has already been pressed, the automated deposits have already gone through, ka-ching--it's a done deal. Not like there's really a thing you can do about it now, congress and their tax plans notwithstanding.
So, if you're inclined to be outraged, check out Maureen Dowd. If you're looking for patience and the long view, I would suggest Tom Friedman.
I was listening to radio stories during my morning commute about the AIG bonuses, and the story seems to have since gone meta. Who is outraged, who is not. What it says about you if you are or are not outraged. Plus: Limbaugh and Hannity think the bonuses are fine.
The most annoying thing to me is the play acting. The politicians having to look shocked and disappointed that their banking buddies would do this awful thing. The CEO having to sadly declare that it was simply necessary, nothing anyone could do. Meanwhile, none of this even happens until the button has already been pressed, the automated deposits have already gone through, ka-ching--it's a done deal. Not like there's really a thing you can do about it now, congress and their tax plans notwithstanding.
So, if you're inclined to be outraged, check out Maureen Dowd. If you're looking for patience and the long view, I would suggest Tom Friedman.
Bits and Pieces
Miscellaneous thoughts at nine minutes after midnight:
- I'm attempting rather unsuccessfully to download Blackberry PC software. I'm not sure why this needs to be so difficult.
- I have this Friday off (I work a 9/80 schedule, which means 80 hours in 9 days, with every other Friday off. Obviously I like having Fridays off, but otherwise it sucks in my humble opinion.) and I'm going to a friend's house to make cards. Should be fun! I'll post pictures of whatever I manage to accomplish.
- Tomorrow (technically today) is Wednesday! Which means choir and bible study. The one night a week where I get out and do something. With people, even.
- The twin cities are out of the freezer. After a -7 morning last week, yesterday it was 67 degrees! Today it was "only" in the 50s, but it is still great. Not to say there can't still be snow ahead, but the likelihood gets smaller each day. This is the time of year where I feel like a real ingrate. As improved as it is, I want the grass, the flowers, the leaves, the 60+ temps, the sunshine. I probably won't really be happy until at least May.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Lent can be way too serious
Once on a weekend women's retreat, we did one of those personality tests where you answer a bunch of questions and use your score to find out what kind of person you are. I don't remember which particular method this test was, but it involved four quadrants. I remember that the left two quadrants were "people-oriented" and the right two quadrants were "task-oriented." Up until this point I think I would have envisioned myself as more people-oriented than task-oriented. However, there were scenarios such as: when you go to a co-worker's office, do you ask about their family and what they did on the weekend, or do you ask a job-related question, get the answer and leave? I'm always a little borderline on these sorts of tests, but it was very clear that I was task-oriented and *not* people-oriented.
I was really pretty disappointed to find out that I was not people-oriented. I would like to be good with people. I try to imagine that my task orientation is related to what my gifts are, although I'm always hard-pressed to name what those might be. I still don't do people well (once when I heard someone asked what they were most afraid of, I allowed that I am afraid of people).
In spite of being task-oriented, I've never been the sort of person who has a dream, or a goal. I barely have a career. Having children gave me lots to do for quite a few years, so there wasn't always a lot of time to think about it, although I had several other "fantasy" jobs that seemed like they would be a lot more fulfulling than what I was doing. I spent many years doing jobs that I had more or less fallen into as opposed to really seeking out (which is probably not all that unusual).
I'm sure you've had the experience where you hear or read a certain idea multiple times within a relatively short time span and think, I'm sensing a theme here. I've had a sort of theme trying to establish itself lately, and it is sort of a two-parter.
Part one has to do with your attitude about life in general. In the prayer this Sunday one of my favorite verses was quoted: this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. Look forward to what today will bring. Expect to find joy and blessing. Now in general I would always say that I am blessed, and I try to find a little joy here and there, but I have more of a tendency to treat each day as something to be navigated, sixteen more hours to get through. Each day is much like another, with the occasional brief moment of beauty or laughter. So part one of the theme is something of a stretch for me.
Part two is even more of a stretch, it has to do with people. It has to do with being a blessing to other people. One thing I read this week was this excerpt of an interview Bill Moyers did with author Karen Armstrong. It was just one of numerous things I've heard in recent weeks about having compassion and loving others. Trying to view each person you encounter from their own context, to enable you to have compassion and to view that person as someone loved by God.
On one hand, I know that small simple things you don't even think much about can have an impact on someone else, so it is not always about how well you do in the large. On the other hand, I also know when we adjust our attitudes in favor of others we wind up helping ourselves just as much, if not more. I'd like to say I'm signing up, but for now I'm just putting it in print.
I was really pretty disappointed to find out that I was not people-oriented. I would like to be good with people. I try to imagine that my task orientation is related to what my gifts are, although I'm always hard-pressed to name what those might be. I still don't do people well (once when I heard someone asked what they were most afraid of, I allowed that I am afraid of people).
In spite of being task-oriented, I've never been the sort of person who has a dream, or a goal. I barely have a career. Having children gave me lots to do for quite a few years, so there wasn't always a lot of time to think about it, although I had several other "fantasy" jobs that seemed like they would be a lot more fulfulling than what I was doing. I spent many years doing jobs that I had more or less fallen into as opposed to really seeking out (which is probably not all that unusual).
I'm sure you've had the experience where you hear or read a certain idea multiple times within a relatively short time span and think, I'm sensing a theme here. I've had a sort of theme trying to establish itself lately, and it is sort of a two-parter.
Part one has to do with your attitude about life in general. In the prayer this Sunday one of my favorite verses was quoted: this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. Look forward to what today will bring. Expect to find joy and blessing. Now in general I would always say that I am blessed, and I try to find a little joy here and there, but I have more of a tendency to treat each day as something to be navigated, sixteen more hours to get through. Each day is much like another, with the occasional brief moment of beauty or laughter. So part one of the theme is something of a stretch for me.
Part two is even more of a stretch, it has to do with people. It has to do with being a blessing to other people. One thing I read this week was this excerpt of an interview Bill Moyers did with author Karen Armstrong. It was just one of numerous things I've heard in recent weeks about having compassion and loving others. Trying to view each person you encounter from their own context, to enable you to have compassion and to view that person as someone loved by God.
On one hand, I know that small simple things you don't even think much about can have an impact on someone else, so it is not always about how well you do in the large. On the other hand, I also know when we adjust our attitudes in favor of others we wind up helping ourselves just as much, if not more. I'd like to say I'm signing up, but for now I'm just putting it in print.
Friday, March 13, 2009
What do I believe?
If you listen to NPR, you have probably heard an occasional segment called "This I Believe." There's a web site you can visit to contribute an essay (or read the ones already contributed), and occasionally they have someone well-known read theirs on the radio to invite people to visit the site. Whenever I hear one of these, my reaction is always the same: suppose I were going to write one of these--what subject would I focus on? What *do* I believe?
Our Bible study readings last week were the stories of the crucifixion. During our discussion, one member brought up the later reaction of Thomas the doubter. Another member said she didn't believe that Jesus really appeared in physical form to the disciples, that he could be touched--she thought that was a metaphor. This person has said on numerous occasions that she thinks this or that story part is metaphorical and didn't really happen, and there are major elements of the Old Testament that she waves off because they don't fit her idea of who God is, so this should not have come as a big surprise. And yet it left me completely slack-jawed, and I was preoccupied by it for a couple days afterward.
My first thought was "what *does* she believe?" Or, if she doesn't believe Jesus came back to life, why is she bothering to be a Christian--what's the point? (She is a very sweet person and I would guess a lifelong Christian. She's certainly a Bible study veteran.) Who is God if his promotional material is full of outrageous stories that aren't true, mere snake oil to get us hooked, and the truth seems mundane by comparison?
My second thought was that maybe she has a lot more faith than I, if she doesn't believe the miracles really happened and yet she is a believer anyway. A more mature sort of faith, one could argue. (I'm not saying I buy that argument, I'm just saying it was my second thought.)
In yesterday's post I talked a little bit about our recent change of churches. One reason I had become restless at our old church was that it seemed that there were some larger, thornier questions that were off limits. We spent a lot of time reinforcing what we all believed we knew, and didn't spend much time exploring what we didn't know, or what would happen if what we thought we knew wasn't quite right. All I can say just at the moment is that I guess I'm getting what I wished for.
Our Bible study readings last week were the stories of the crucifixion. During our discussion, one member brought up the later reaction of Thomas the doubter. Another member said she didn't believe that Jesus really appeared in physical form to the disciples, that he could be touched--she thought that was a metaphor. This person has said on numerous occasions that she thinks this or that story part is metaphorical and didn't really happen, and there are major elements of the Old Testament that she waves off because they don't fit her idea of who God is, so this should not have come as a big surprise. And yet it left me completely slack-jawed, and I was preoccupied by it for a couple days afterward.
My first thought was "what *does* she believe?" Or, if she doesn't believe Jesus came back to life, why is she bothering to be a Christian--what's the point? (She is a very sweet person and I would guess a lifelong Christian. She's certainly a Bible study veteran.) Who is God if his promotional material is full of outrageous stories that aren't true, mere snake oil to get us hooked, and the truth seems mundane by comparison?
My second thought was that maybe she has a lot more faith than I, if she doesn't believe the miracles really happened and yet she is a believer anyway. A more mature sort of faith, one could argue. (I'm not saying I buy that argument, I'm just saying it was my second thought.)
In yesterday's post I talked a little bit about our recent change of churches. One reason I had become restless at our old church was that it seemed that there were some larger, thornier questions that were off limits. We spent a lot of time reinforcing what we all believed we knew, and didn't spend much time exploring what we didn't know, or what would happen if what we thought we knew wasn't quite right. All I can say just at the moment is that I guess I'm getting what I wished for.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Background
I am currently attending a Disciple Bible study class, it is called Jesus in the Gospels. Some intriguing things are happening that I would like to talk about, but it is going to take several posts to really explore. I thought tonight I'd start off with a bit of background.
This is my first adult study class at the church we are currently attending. We began going to this church full-time about a year and a half ago, and we spent a year before that alternating between the "new" church and the "old" church before we switched. We went to the "old" church for close to 15 years. It is a surburban church that is closer to our house--our kids pretty much grew up in that church, and in some ways, so did I.
The first church is what I would call an evangelical Methodist church. It is in a pretty conservative section of the metro area (if I told you I live in Michele Bachmann's congressional district, perhaps that would give you an idea), and although there are certainly more conservative congregations, this one is fairly conservative. You would want to don your flak jacket before you suggested in a Bible study that perhaps a certain reading in the Bible did not really literally happen the way it is described in the text. (Or, since this is Minnesota, instead of a flak jacket, maybe you would just want to put on a parka to ward off the icy chill and uncomfortable silence that would descend on the room.)
The new church is really an old church--we were married there, and our two children were baptized there. We attended there for a couple years before we moved so far into the exurbs that it became somewhat impractical to trek to downtown Minneapolis with two small children every week. It is a reconciling congregation, which is Methodist for welcoming to members of the LGBT community. (This is a minority position for the Methodist church, worldwide or even just in the US.)
I find these weird contradictions--that in a political sense one church is conservative and one is liberal, and I guess you could say in some theological senses also, but in a sort of cultural sense the downtown church is much stuffier and traditional whereas the suburban church is casual and laid back. One's relationship to God, in particular, is expected to be kind of reverent and distant according to the downtown setting--God is mysterious, awesome, unknowable, his grand plan eludes us. But at the suburban church, Jesus is jes' folks. He's right here with us. God is lovingly overseeing each little detail of our lives, and above all, God is good, all the time.
In terms of my relationship with my church, I was frustrated with what seemed like a straightjacket of the first church--the inability to ask inappropriate questions, the lack of discussion of opposing views, the idea that we had all the answers about who God is and what he wants. And as a politically liberal person, the church's position on a few subjects, such as homosexuality, pained me. It seemed like I was way too liberal for that church.
Now of course I am having the opposite problem. I am happy that the new church has reverence for God (sometimes lacking at the old church), but he seems so far away now. And the cafeteria-style theology of believing in whichever bits seem right to you that the conservative church rejects I also find myself having a difficult time with. I'm starting to feel like the fuddy-duddy in the room, even as I appreciate the openness and tolerance of our new home.
So, I want to talk about some of what has been going on in Bible study, but I'll begin that on another day.
This is my first adult study class at the church we are currently attending. We began going to this church full-time about a year and a half ago, and we spent a year before that alternating between the "new" church and the "old" church before we switched. We went to the "old" church for close to 15 years. It is a surburban church that is closer to our house--our kids pretty much grew up in that church, and in some ways, so did I.
The first church is what I would call an evangelical Methodist church. It is in a pretty conservative section of the metro area (if I told you I live in Michele Bachmann's congressional district, perhaps that would give you an idea), and although there are certainly more conservative congregations, this one is fairly conservative. You would want to don your flak jacket before you suggested in a Bible study that perhaps a certain reading in the Bible did not really literally happen the way it is described in the text. (Or, since this is Minnesota, instead of a flak jacket, maybe you would just want to put on a parka to ward off the icy chill and uncomfortable silence that would descend on the room.)
The new church is really an old church--we were married there, and our two children were baptized there. We attended there for a couple years before we moved so far into the exurbs that it became somewhat impractical to trek to downtown Minneapolis with two small children every week. It is a reconciling congregation, which is Methodist for welcoming to members of the LGBT community. (This is a minority position for the Methodist church, worldwide or even just in the US.)
I find these weird contradictions--that in a political sense one church is conservative and one is liberal, and I guess you could say in some theological senses also, but in a sort of cultural sense the downtown church is much stuffier and traditional whereas the suburban church is casual and laid back. One's relationship to God, in particular, is expected to be kind of reverent and distant according to the downtown setting--God is mysterious, awesome, unknowable, his grand plan eludes us. But at the suburban church, Jesus is jes' folks. He's right here with us. God is lovingly overseeing each little detail of our lives, and above all, God is good, all the time.
In terms of my relationship with my church, I was frustrated with what seemed like a straightjacket of the first church--the inability to ask inappropriate questions, the lack of discussion of opposing views, the idea that we had all the answers about who God is and what he wants. And as a politically liberal person, the church's position on a few subjects, such as homosexuality, pained me. It seemed like I was way too liberal for that church.
Now of course I am having the opposite problem. I am happy that the new church has reverence for God (sometimes lacking at the old church), but he seems so far away now. And the cafeteria-style theology of believing in whichever bits seem right to you that the conservative church rejects I also find myself having a difficult time with. I'm starting to feel like the fuddy-duddy in the room, even as I appreciate the openness and tolerance of our new home.
So, I want to talk about some of what has been going on in Bible study, but I'll begin that on another day.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Cramer and courage
Last night I watched some on-line vids of John Stuart lambasting CNBC and especially Cramer the so-called expert advice that they give on investing. Besides being quite humorous, it shows just how clueless people are when it comes to economic futures. It also shows how there's such a herd mentality in the economy.
To join the members of the truely clueless, I'm going to give my interpretation of the economic future. It's simple, so it must be wrong. My claim is that the economic future will largely be based on what a large portion of the population thinks it is. The stock market has some real deals out there but continues to go down because people of lost their confidence in the stock market. If people had confidence in the markets, they'd go up because there would be demand for the stock. Now there's just the opposite. People not only don't want their stocks, but are willing to take large losses just to get rid of them. This same behavior has extended to the housing markets, banking, and businesses. There's a perception that things are only going to get worse, habits are changed, commerce reduces, so things get worse. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe that's why the government tracks consumer confidence so closely.
Now that I've stuck my neck out, I'll go as far as to get it chopped; I'll propose a solution. It's called courage. Have courage to purchase stocks in companies that you admire, even though it's down 50% (or more) from its high. Have courage to say to your employer that there's a need to consider adding people, even though the ROI isn't as clear as it once was. Have courage to spend some money, even though you're afraid that a rainy day might be coming. Finally, have the courage to say that you're optimistic about the future, even outside polite company. Maybe some of this courage will rub off to others.
To join the members of the truely clueless, I'm going to give my interpretation of the economic future. It's simple, so it must be wrong. My claim is that the economic future will largely be based on what a large portion of the population thinks it is. The stock market has some real deals out there but continues to go down because people of lost their confidence in the stock market. If people had confidence in the markets, they'd go up because there would be demand for the stock. Now there's just the opposite. People not only don't want their stocks, but are willing to take large losses just to get rid of them. This same behavior has extended to the housing markets, banking, and businesses. There's a perception that things are only going to get worse, habits are changed, commerce reduces, so things get worse. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe that's why the government tracks consumer confidence so closely.
Now that I've stuck my neck out, I'll go as far as to get it chopped; I'll propose a solution. It's called courage. Have courage to purchase stocks in companies that you admire, even though it's down 50% (or more) from its high. Have courage to say to your employer that there's a need to consider adding people, even though the ROI isn't as clear as it once was. Have courage to spend some money, even though you're afraid that a rainy day might be coming. Finally, have the courage to say that you're optimistic about the future, even outside polite company. Maybe some of this courage will rub off to others.
They were right!
It is -2. (With a 16 mph wind!) No walk for dogs and I this morning.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Radioactive Middle
Spectrum-wise, no one wants to spend any time in the middle. I'm not sure why that is, but I'm finding it a very intriguing question. I've lately been bemoaning the fact that the two churches we have recent attachments to are each too far to one end, and I feel like there is a gaping vacuum in each experience. Maybe we just need to try more churches--it seems like being consigned to what Jesus (in Revelation) lambastes as lukewarmness would be all too prevalent in the modern church.
Today's New York Times columnists were Bob Herbert and David Brooks. I generally find Bob Herbert to be very good, and since Barack Obama has been elected president it is as though Mr. Herbert has been electrified. After eight-plus years of being worn down by right-wing ascendency, during which I'm sure he began to feel like Don Quixote, he has risen to the occasion of putting some wonderful commentative pressure "out there" to keep it liberal and not give in to compromising away all that has been won just yet.
David Brooks occasionally says something I agree with, but most of the time he really gets on my nerves. Most of the time I don't read him unless the blurb sounds like something out of the ordinary. Today, the two of them made my case that not only does no one want to spend any time in the middle, there seems to be a willful blinkeredness to any issues of one's own side.
Herbert's column today talks about the middle class crunch of the last three decades, and how the Republicans have been trying to reverse the New Deal. I agree with pretty much everything in the column, except that the downfall of the New Deal and the popularity of trickle-down economics is not simply due to the Republican agenda. It is due also in no small part to the fact that the Democrats and the unions drove their agenda to its extreme, with no regard to whether the outcomes were sustainable or fair to business. I'm not suggesting we're anywhere near needing to warn against going to far, but to put down how we got here solely to Republican meanness without taking any responsibility for overindulgence on the part of unions is not telling the whole story.
Then we have Brooks. (Here I had to delete quite a rant about the bulk of his column until I stumbled upon the paragraph that supports the thesis.) In the middle of his lecture to fellow Republicans about what they should be doing, he characterises our current crisis as follows: "When exogenous forces like the rise of China and a flood of easy money hit the global marketplace, they can throw the entire system of out of whack, leading to a cascade of imbalances: higher debt, a grossly enlarged financial sector and unsustainable bubbles."
Did you see that? The rise of China and the flood of easy money--that was what caused our problems. Nothing at all to do with any Republican policies.
(Also, Obama, or better yet the Republicans, should "fix" the banking problem. And not by letting Citigroup fail or by nationalizing it. They should get out there with "initiative-grabbing" approaches. I agree! I told you occasionally I agree with him. :-)
Today's New York Times columnists were Bob Herbert and David Brooks. I generally find Bob Herbert to be very good, and since Barack Obama has been elected president it is as though Mr. Herbert has been electrified. After eight-plus years of being worn down by right-wing ascendency, during which I'm sure he began to feel like Don Quixote, he has risen to the occasion of putting some wonderful commentative pressure "out there" to keep it liberal and not give in to compromising away all that has been won just yet.
David Brooks occasionally says something I agree with, but most of the time he really gets on my nerves. Most of the time I don't read him unless the blurb sounds like something out of the ordinary. Today, the two of them made my case that not only does no one want to spend any time in the middle, there seems to be a willful blinkeredness to any issues of one's own side.
Herbert's column today talks about the middle class crunch of the last three decades, and how the Republicans have been trying to reverse the New Deal. I agree with pretty much everything in the column, except that the downfall of the New Deal and the popularity of trickle-down economics is not simply due to the Republican agenda. It is due also in no small part to the fact that the Democrats and the unions drove their agenda to its extreme, with no regard to whether the outcomes were sustainable or fair to business. I'm not suggesting we're anywhere near needing to warn against going to far, but to put down how we got here solely to Republican meanness without taking any responsibility for overindulgence on the part of unions is not telling the whole story.
Then we have Brooks. (Here I had to delete quite a rant about the bulk of his column until I stumbled upon the paragraph that supports the thesis.) In the middle of his lecture to fellow Republicans about what they should be doing, he characterises our current crisis as follows: "When exogenous forces like the rise of China and a flood of easy money hit the global marketplace, they can throw the entire system of out of whack, leading to a cascade of imbalances: higher debt, a grossly enlarged financial sector and unsustainable bubbles."
Did you see that? The rise of China and the flood of easy money--that was what caused our problems. Nothing at all to do with any Republican policies.
(Also, Obama, or better yet the Republicans, should "fix" the banking problem. And not by letting Citigroup fail or by nationalizing it. They should get out there with "initiative-grabbing" approaches. I agree! I told you occasionally I agree with him. :-)
Winter, 2009
There are many things one could say about the winter of 2008-2009 here in the Twin Cities. For one thing, it has been friggin' cold this year. (We're threatening to go subzero again one night this week, but weather predictions this time of year are just guesses.)
You can certainly say that we have had more than our share of hideous commute days. This evening being one of them. Struggling up highway 100 at 45 miles an hour is just becoming somewhat routine. (After waiting for the carapace of ice to melt off my car so I could set off.)
Tom bought some boxes to plant his dahlia bulbs in over the weekend. I have trouble seeing that far ahead, despite the birds singing in the trees on our morning walks now.
You can certainly say that we have had more than our share of hideous commute days. This evening being one of them. Struggling up highway 100 at 45 miles an hour is just becoming somewhat routine. (After waiting for the carapace of ice to melt off my car so I could set off.)
Tom bought some boxes to plant his dahlia bulbs in over the weekend. I have trouble seeing that far ahead, despite the birds singing in the trees on our morning walks now.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Shameless Personal Plug
Tom's group at work is putting together a team to walk in the American Heart Assoc. Heart Walk on April 25. They're looking for more team members--it is at Harriett Island, the walk starts at 10am (I don't know how long it is).
You can click here to get more info, sign up to walk, or donate money to the cause. Click on my name or Tom's to give us credit (if I make it to $100 I'll get a T-shirt!!).
I remember back in my youth when you got people to sponsor you for so much per mile, and then you had to report back on how far you made it to get paid. I suppose this way is much less fuss, but it lacks drama. (I always wondered whether I'd make it to the end. I think I may have actually walked in exactly one of those things.)
You can click here to get more info, sign up to walk, or donate money to the cause. Click on my name or Tom's to give us credit (if I make it to $100 I'll get a T-shirt!!).
I remember back in my youth when you got people to sponsor you for so much per mile, and then you had to report back on how far you made it to get paid. I suppose this way is much less fuss, but it lacks drama. (I always wondered whether I'd make it to the end. I think I may have actually walked in exactly one of those things.)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Drag Forward
I used to have a problem constantly of falling asleep while driving. It doesn't happen to me anymore, I'm not sure why, but it used to be a pretty regular thing. I'd be driving home from work and my eyelids would be intent on closing. It would take all my concentration and will to force them open periodically so I could see the road, and it was very frustrating. Most days I'd be fighting it all the way to my destination, but occasionally I'd get overwhelmed and, for a brief instant, I would actually fall asleep. Then I would jerk back awake, and be suddenly, fully awake. Wide awake. I always wondered what that was--one moment I can't force my eyelids open, and the next I'm completely awake. It's not like you're going to be refreshed by one second of sleep.
That happened on a small scale this morning, the morning of losing an hour to daylight savings. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, feeling very sleepy. (First I went downstairs and let the dogs out and put the coffee on, and I was still sleep-walking.) I had a perm on Friday afternoon, and I'm not supposed to wash my hair until tomorrow. So I got in the shower, washed my face, and absentmindedly picked up the shampoo and washed my hair. I was just looking at the conditioner and deciding whether to use some, when it dawned on me what I'd done. And just like that I was wide awake. Do you have to catch yourself doing something you're not supposed to do in order to wake up? Maybe I zone through each day because I was too successfully socialized. Maybe I ought to plan some occasional rule-breaking as a means of feeling more awake and alive. So I'm trying to decide what sort of guilty behavior to plan. It seems like it would have to be a new sort of guilt, not the old sorts that I'm already accustomed to.
This morning's wake-up didn't last very long. Right now I could crawl back in bed to have a nap with no problem at all. (And I'm supposed to go and wash two dogs. Oy.)
That happened on a small scale this morning, the morning of losing an hour to daylight savings. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, feeling very sleepy. (First I went downstairs and let the dogs out and put the coffee on, and I was still sleep-walking.) I had a perm on Friday afternoon, and I'm not supposed to wash my hair until tomorrow. So I got in the shower, washed my face, and absentmindedly picked up the shampoo and washed my hair. I was just looking at the conditioner and deciding whether to use some, when it dawned on me what I'd done. And just like that I was wide awake. Do you have to catch yourself doing something you're not supposed to do in order to wake up? Maybe I zone through each day because I was too successfully socialized. Maybe I ought to plan some occasional rule-breaking as a means of feeling more awake and alive. So I'm trying to decide what sort of guilty behavior to plan. It seems like it would have to be a new sort of guilt, not the old sorts that I'm already accustomed to.
This morning's wake-up didn't last very long. Right now I could crawl back in bed to have a nap with no problem at all. (And I'm supposed to go and wash two dogs. Oy.)
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Playing with your food
When I was out with the girls on Thursday evening, I learned that there are two new restaurants in the area with hibachis at the table. Now, when I hear the word "hibachi," I think of a small charcoal grill. I was so excited. I remember going to a restaurant somewhere--now I am thinking it was in Hawaii, which means this memory lingers from when I was in the 8th grade. Memories are curious, but evidently my life revolves around food.
Anyway, this was an ordinary sort of place with large booths, and along the wall side of the table, there was a little hibachi grill. They would start it up when you sat down, and later, they would bring a plate of marinated meat, very thinly sliced, and I think you got to sort of cook it yourself on the hibachi. I suppose there was rice and veggies to go with it, but my memory is a little vague on that front.
Last night we called up the closer of these two new places and asked how long their wait was. No wait! So we went on over, and when the hostess asked if we wanted a hibachi table I said yes please. We walk to the back room, and I am surprised to find the Benihana style grill with the table wrapping around it, you know where they juggle the knives. Except our chef just juggled a spatula and a fork. (See how helpful blog-writing is? I'm not likely to forget the word for spatula anytime soon!). He also twirled the egg for the fried rice on the grill and joked "egg roll". (He tried twice to hop an egg off the grill--with the spatula!--into his jacket pocket. Both fell and broke on the grill instead, but hey.)
We sat down anyway, with another couple that came in when we did. Had a very nice time talking to this other couple, and the food was good. (I had scallops--mmm, so tender.) I was the only one of the four that caught the piece of shrimp the chef launched at each of us from his spatula. (I figure that is mostly dependent on the aim of the chef, so I figure we both got lucky.)
Well, enjoy your Saturday--we're off to Costco!! :-)
Anyway, this was an ordinary sort of place with large booths, and along the wall side of the table, there was a little hibachi grill. They would start it up when you sat down, and later, they would bring a plate of marinated meat, very thinly sliced, and I think you got to sort of cook it yourself on the hibachi. I suppose there was rice and veggies to go with it, but my memory is a little vague on that front.
Last night we called up the closer of these two new places and asked how long their wait was. No wait! So we went on over, and when the hostess asked if we wanted a hibachi table I said yes please. We walk to the back room, and I am surprised to find the Benihana style grill with the table wrapping around it, you know where they juggle the knives. Except our chef just juggled a spatula and a fork. (See how helpful blog-writing is? I'm not likely to forget the word for spatula anytime soon!). He also twirled the egg for the fried rice on the grill and joked "egg roll". (He tried twice to hop an egg off the grill--with the spatula!--into his jacket pocket. Both fell and broke on the grill instead, but hey.)
We sat down anyway, with another couple that came in when we did. Had a very nice time talking to this other couple, and the food was good. (I had scallops--mmm, so tender.) I was the only one of the four that caught the piece of shrimp the chef launched at each of us from his spatula. (I figure that is mostly dependent on the aim of the chef, so I figure we both got lucky.)
Well, enjoy your Saturday--we're off to Costco!! :-)
Friday, March 6, 2009
Spaces were invented by monks
(Here we go--about to try embedding a link. What could go wrong?)
I quite enjoyed this: Real Time is Realtime
Probably intended to be a rant against twitter, but taken at face value I think it has merit. Realtime *is* our natural state. I suppose civilization is all the stuff we do that takes us away from our natural state, but still. It is good not to lose sight of what we are.
(Naturally, I saw this on Andrew Sullivan's site. I will try to make this blog more than just an Andrew Sullivan mirror site, but I expect it to be a struggle.)
I quite enjoyed this: Real Time is Realtime
Probably intended to be a rant against twitter, but taken at face value I think it has merit. Realtime *is* our natural state. I suppose civilization is all the stuff we do that takes us away from our natural state, but still. It is good not to lose sight of what we are.
(Naturally, I saw this on Andrew Sullivan's site. I will try to make this blog more than just an Andrew Sullivan mirror site, but I expect it to be a struggle.)
Jungle Theater
I was invited to the theater last night by my friend Shar. She likes to get season tickets to a local theater and invite friends to join her for dinner and a show. This year she picked the Jungle Theater. I looked at the calendar for the year, and thought a number of the plays sounded good. Obviously anyone who does things like this is bound to have lots of friends, so it is a bit of a crap shoot which play you wind up going to see. I mentioned that the first play was the one I was least interested in, but naturally that one was the one that everyone else had conflicts with, so I wound up going last night to see Hitchcock Blonde.
It probably would have been better if I had ever watched a Hitchcock film. I enjoy movies, but I don't really get the whole "art of film" thing. Sort of like visual arts--I know what I like, but I can't really tell you what is good or why. I also do not care for "scary" movies, so I was worried that perhaps the play would fit sort of into the Hitchcock genre, but that did not turn out to be the case. (There was an on-stage stabbing of course, but I was fine, thank you for asking.)
Let me just back up a moment and put in that we went to the same church as Shar and her family for many years, but the last couple years my husband and I have been attending elsewhere. So there were four of us last night, Shar's sister and another friend that I know from our ex-mutual-church. I really enjoyed seeing them and catching up. The theater is in Uptown, and we had a nice dinner at Figlio's, which I had never been to. (Italian--cannelloni, but I wish I had just stuck with the ravioli. I never learn to stick with the simple thing.)
Anyway--the play was a three-layer affair and I quite enjoyed it. There were three layers of story that is, although I think there were more layers than that of what-the-play-was-about. (There's probably a word for that.) My inner feminist was quite intrigued by the idea of actresses who had to perform nude on the sound stage for movies that were considerably primmer on the screen and what that must have been like in 1959 (one character was a prospective body double for Janet Leigh in Psycho, and her experience was pretty hair-raising, sorry). Quite a bit edgier than anything you'd find at the Guthrie, but I thought the staging and acting were quite good. The theater is not large--I would describe it as cozy, but a pretty good size. We were in the third row. So, I'd like to go back, but I don't think Tom was too interested in any of the other offerings. We'll see.
It probably would have been better if I had ever watched a Hitchcock film. I enjoy movies, but I don't really get the whole "art of film" thing. Sort of like visual arts--I know what I like, but I can't really tell you what is good or why. I also do not care for "scary" movies, so I was worried that perhaps the play would fit sort of into the Hitchcock genre, but that did not turn out to be the case. (There was an on-stage stabbing of course, but I was fine, thank you for asking.)
Let me just back up a moment and put in that we went to the same church as Shar and her family for many years, but the last couple years my husband and I have been attending elsewhere. So there were four of us last night, Shar's sister and another friend that I know from our ex-mutual-church. I really enjoyed seeing them and catching up. The theater is in Uptown, and we had a nice dinner at Figlio's, which I had never been to. (Italian--cannelloni, but I wish I had just stuck with the ravioli. I never learn to stick with the simple thing.)
Anyway--the play was a three-layer affair and I quite enjoyed it. There were three layers of story that is, although I think there were more layers than that of what-the-play-was-about. (There's probably a word for that.) My inner feminist was quite intrigued by the idea of actresses who had to perform nude on the sound stage for movies that were considerably primmer on the screen and what that must have been like in 1959 (one character was a prospective body double for Janet Leigh in Psycho, and her experience was pretty hair-raising, sorry). Quite a bit edgier than anything you'd find at the Guthrie, but I thought the staging and acting were quite good. The theater is not large--I would describe it as cozy, but a pretty good size. We were in the third row. So, I'd like to go back, but I don't think Tom was too interested in any of the other offerings. We'll see.
Inaugural Post
I have stolen the name for the blog from my husband. We began dating in college, and he used to tell me that he had difficulty getting out of bed in the morning because his pillow was singing to him. I have never personally experienced my pillow singing, but as a youth I would have listed "sleeping" as my favorite activity, and it still rates pretty high on the list. Fortunately we have two dogs, or I might never get up in the morning. I highly recommend getting a dog as your children get old enough to be moving out of the house. I hardly have any idea what to do with myself these days as it is, thankfully the dogs usually have plans.
I've been thinking for awhile now that I would like to try doing some writing, and considering how much blog-reading I do you might have thought that starting a blog would have occurred earlier as a means to that end, but it only dawned on me rather recently. I'm glad to find out that it is so easy to do!
I have always loved to read, and I particularly liked reading "columnists," which today happily also includes bloggers. I think it is interesting that writing does not necessarily seem to go hand in hand with reading--it seems like it would be the obvious complement. I finally figured that to get any good at writing, one would probably have to just start doing it, and keep doing it, and see if any improvement happens. In addition, I have all my life had that problem where you are trying to say something, and you need a certain word, but you can't think of it when you need it and have to wave your hand around hoping someone else will come up with it for you. I realize this is a fairly common condition, nonetheless I feel like I'm getting to an age where some might begin to question my mental function if I cannot for the life of me think of what a spatula is called, and perhaps doing some regular writing would improve my word recall speed. (I'm guessing it might not work, but I figure it is worth a try.)
At the moment my only plans for this blog are to add another avenue of possible communication with my children (I learned in church committees that you have to use at least five means of communication if you expect people to hear about your ministry, and I think that is probably a good metric for grown children as well) and entertain myself at the same time. I'm trying to tell myself that this will be a better expenditure of my energy than Spider Solitaire, but I guess that remains to be seen.
I've been thinking for awhile now that I would like to try doing some writing, and considering how much blog-reading I do you might have thought that starting a blog would have occurred earlier as a means to that end, but it only dawned on me rather recently. I'm glad to find out that it is so easy to do!
I have always loved to read, and I particularly liked reading "columnists," which today happily also includes bloggers. I think it is interesting that writing does not necessarily seem to go hand in hand with reading--it seems like it would be the obvious complement. I finally figured that to get any good at writing, one would probably have to just start doing it, and keep doing it, and see if any improvement happens. In addition, I have all my life had that problem where you are trying to say something, and you need a certain word, but you can't think of it when you need it and have to wave your hand around hoping someone else will come up with it for you. I realize this is a fairly common condition, nonetheless I feel like I'm getting to an age where some might begin to question my mental function if I cannot for the life of me think of what a spatula is called, and perhaps doing some regular writing would improve my word recall speed. (I'm guessing it might not work, but I figure it is worth a try.)
At the moment my only plans for this blog are to add another avenue of possible communication with my children (I learned in church committees that you have to use at least five means of communication if you expect people to hear about your ministry, and I think that is probably a good metric for grown children as well) and entertain myself at the same time. I'm trying to tell myself that this will be a better expenditure of my energy than Spider Solitaire, but I guess that remains to be seen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)