Coffee or Tea?

An otherwise difficult weekend got a lot more interesting and hopeful this afternoon. I went to an organizing meeting for the local chapter of The Coffee Party. In case you haven't heard of it, I have a feeling you will. I saw an article Saturday in the local paper that wire services had picked up from Thursday's Washington Post.

From there I found their Facebook page, and then that of the local chapter, which was just getting started today, and so... I went! Nothing like being in on the ground floor of a movement.

To give you a feel of what it's about, this is the little description on the local chapter's Facebook page :

The Coffee Party Movement gives voice to Americans who want to see cooperation in government. We recognize that the federal government is not the enemy of the people, but the expression of our collective will. Truly an American blend, the Coffee Party Movement is not a new political party - it's a new way to engage with one another. We are commited to democracy, cooperation, and civility.

And today, I found that to be very true. There was no attempt to adopt particular positions on issues, no desire to support particular candidates. There WAS an attempt at dialogue. There were progressives and populists, conservatives and liberals, politicians and non-voters, twenty-somethings and sixty-somethings around the table, sharing stories and ideas.... all with civility and respect. I've been feeling for quite some time that our civil discourse in this country is far from civil anymore; it has devolved into shouting and name-calling and labeling, with no attempt to understand another view than your own. And sad to say, people of faith are often the worst offenders.

Maybe today that starts to change. I, for one, plan to help.

Me and Stephen Bishop

While reading H. Boer's Pentecost and Mission in the coffee shop the other day, I heard an oldie wafting in from speakers in the ceiling somewhere, interrupting my critical investigation of the so-called Great Commission and its effect on Missiology in Bible times vs today. So maybe I needed a mental break! :)

The singer and song seemed like they came from a time and place long ago and far away (the 70's, to be precise), but it was also a snippet of present reality for me.

A piece of his lyric caught me when I had first heard it, back in the day, and it still catches in my throat if I ever try to sing along:

So he takes a ladder

Steals the stars from the sky

Puts on Sinatra and starts to cry

On and on he just keeps on trying

And he smiles when he feels like crying

On and on, on and on, on and on...

Yeah. Me, too.

Poetry on the hoof

The City of St. Paul has several "public art" projects. One of them involves stamping short poems into fresh concrete as sidewalks are replaced. They've done over a hundred of these around town, according to the website.

And now they've issued a call for local poets to submit more for the upcoming construction season. Hmm... awfully hard to resist. :)

You're limited to 10 lines, 40 characters each, 250 characters total, and.. family-friendly content.

Winners will be announced on May Day. We'll see, I guess, if I get immortalized in cement, my words happily trodden underfoot.

My submission? A haiku, of course. :)

ambulating verse

strolling through the neighborhood

haiku underfoot

Fish Fry Police

Dey used to have 'em in M'waukee, dere, don't ya know?

You really had to be elusive to avoid being caught eating something "normal" on a Friday night. There was such a fetish about it, too - trying to find the ideal fish fry experience. You'd critique the batter, the selection, the portion size, the availability of seconds, the side items, the beverage, the wait times, and of course the price. Atmosphere was definitely secondary. I mean, what can you expect at a KC Hall or VFW post, anyway?

Where they really need fish fry police is in California. J1 sent me this pic on her cell the other day. You must be kidding!




A Filet-O-Fish at McDonalds may qualify for fish fry in California, but.. ha. Here, we catch our own sitting out on the frozen lakes.



So last Friday, we went to St. Odelia's parish for fish. It was the first of the season, and much like when Julie Mancuso is first down the hill in the Super-G with a decent time, the first clean fish fry run becomes the standard to beat for all the other parishes.

Baked and battered were both available, and each were nicely done, with minimal line length, and pretty prompt refills when the chafing dishes went empty. Side items were steamed green beans devoid of all seasoning, cole slaw that was a tad sweet, and au gratin potatoes (a highlight). Water and coffee at the tables in the school cafeteria, and grade school students serving cookies and clearing plates. A very nice atmosphere, and only $8/person, including seconds on fish and dessert! Wow. Heck of a deal.

The other parishes will need a clean run and a fast time to catch St. Odelia's for a place on the medal platform at the Fish Fry Games.

Just burn it.

Spent part of the day yesterday at Lakewood Memorial Park, metaphorically checking out places to bury this half-dead career of mine. I mean, it's on life-support as it is. On days like this I feel like just putting it out of its misery.

Well, actually, I ostensibly went there for the artwork in the chapel. It was something I never had time to do when I was working, as it was only open during the workday. So... why not, right? Might as well take advantage of my forced idleness.



I'd read about it in the local paper as being a beautiful restoration of Charles Lamb's Byzantine mosaic style designs. And beautiful it is.



There are four key figures in each corner of the chapel. This one is Memory, which in the context of honoring the departed, is elevated to the status of a virtue. And a pensively beautiful one, at that.



The others, of course, are Faith, Hope and Love.






The only creepy part was that in the basement of the chapel



by the colombarium, where they have marble niches to place urns,



is the crematorium, with a pair of side-by-side ovens.



Oooh, make me extra-crispy, please. It reminded me of that radical anti-materialist slogan from the early days of the Jesus Movement that we once used to remind ourselves not to get seduced by the world's allure: "hey, you know, it's all gonna burn!"



And so with this career of mine. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The only thing that we take from this life into eternity is the impact we've made on people. No walled offices, no awards, no titles, no possessions, period.

Worldly success fading? Youthful body decaying? Just burn it, man.

Ashes, ashes... I NEED to fall down...

A beautiful sunny day, today, a bit of a February thaw; enough that the dog prefers to lie out in the sun on the driveway than huddle in his kennel in the garage. And at the Ash Wednesday Mass today, I could feel a thaw beginning in my heart, too. In the Missal, there is an introductory paragraph to the readings and responses for each week, and I thought today's was really good:

Yesterday was not Lent. Today is. Our Catholic sacramental world-view, which for two thousand years has used visible realities to remind us of invisible ones, long ago sharpened the distinction between yesterday and today by filling yesterday with such festivals as Mardi Gras. The un-sacramental culture in which we live now fails to see the logic. Yesterday the stock market closed at X, today it shall open at X, thence go up or down - one business day following another. The two days are separated by one night, nothing more. To appreciate and benefit from Ash Wednesday requires greater effort now than in a more sacramentally-minded era.

So why, when I do not feel a greater sinner today than yesterday, should I put on ashes today? Because Ash Wednesday - Lent - is meant to serve as a speed bump, forcing me to slow down, consider my spiritual state, and repent of my sins. May we embrace the opportunity this "different" day offers and take our ashes with full awareness of our need for them.

Lent: a speed bump in a drive-by culture; a "caution: slow down" sign in a fast-lived world. I need this time of considering my spiritual state. And this year, instead of giving up something for Lent.. I plan on adding something. Something positive, to enhance my communion with God.

(Side note: interesting that the post-modern generation coming up behind me is rediscovering Lent, as in this article. This is the generation that the same magazine refers to as the "irony" generation. If they're looking for real and lasting meaning outside of self.. I think they've come to the right place.)

downcast

.


dazed and confused
what didn't i understand
seemed to go so well


.



Well, it's a lesson. Don't set your heart on something that depends on somebody else's decision. :( Really, I thought that I hadn't done that, that I had been careful not to get my hopes up. But still, when the answer was "no", it was like a sucker punch right in the gut. I thought everything went great, but... the feeling wasn't reciprocated.

I had some pretty curt conversations with God this afternoon. Kind of along the lines of: "So was there a point to slapping me around like this emotionally? Are you going to need to do it some more for some reason? Why should I walk away with such a positive vibe and then have the door slammed in my face so abruptly? What point are you trying to make to me, exactly? That I'm completely out of touch, that I'm clueless and need waking up?" :( I was mad.

And the answer I heard back.. pretty clearly.. was just as curt. But perhaps with a kinder tone, as I might have expected from Him. He said (in my spirit):

Why should you be angry? Was it Me who raised your hopes inappropriately? You did that yourself, after you said that you wouldn't let it happen. You know very well that this is the process: you knock on doors, most don't answer, some might open, fewer invite you in, and normally only one asks you to stay. Haven't you been through this a dozen times or more? Why should you be angry?

Are you like Job? Do you demand from Me an explanation for what happens to you? Remember what he got from Me? He got a reminder of whose world this is... and it's not yours. You have said recently that you have a quiet trust in My providential grace. How about showing some of that trust?

Are you like Jonah? Do you quarrel with my methods, and object to the direction of My grace? Do you think you know better than Me? May I remind you to Whom you speak? I suggest you be silent.. and wait for Me. You will understand in the end what I am doing. Until then, live by faith.

Who is your favorite writer in the Scripture? Isn't it Solomon the wise? Recall what he said in Eccl 11:

"Give portions to seven, and also to eight,
For you do not know what evil will be on the earth.
[...]
As you do not know what is the way of the wind,
Or how the bones grow in the womb of her who is with child,
So you do not know the works of God who makes everything.
In the morning sow your seed,
And in the evening do not withhold your hand;
For you do not know which will prosper,
Either this or that,
Or whether both alike will be good."

Take a lesson from your grapevines. When some were eaten by animals and others were not, were you angry at Me? Especially when you took preventive measures only too late? Or were you grateful that some were spared? Then when one of those vines that was spared unexpectedly grew a few grapes a full year "too soon", which ripened well so that you could actually taste the fruit of your vines, were you angry with Me for being "off" on My timing, or did you rejoice in the little blessing I gave you?

Be still. Wait. I will rescue you. I will be kind to you.



Okay, okay... I spoke rashly, of things I do not understand. I'll give portions to seven, to eight... sow the seed, and wait for Your harvest. I'll remember the words of King David, my patron saint:

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

Stimulus Package? (updated 2/16)

mmm, this weekend, I hope! (in the form of a favorite activity in a favorite venue that I too seldom get to experience, as well as in exploring a potential solution to my present unemployment problem.)

Exciting times ahead in both college basketball, and my personal life! :)

Although, perhaps I should temper my expectations...

***************

I guess tempered expectations were in order after all. So much for mixing business and pleasure: none of the business part came to fruition. (sigh) Where's that first unemployment check? :(

Rome vs self vs Caesar

"A true self is a self under command. Thus I suggest that attention to the biblical processes of the self is crucial if we are to find [an] alternative to the increasingly dysfunctional and destructive modes of autonomy (without self-abandonment) and conformity (without self-assertion) that are so powerful all around us."

----- Walter Brueggeman, The Covenanted Self

The associate pastor on Sunday discussed the idea of a distinctive lifestyle that we as Christians are called to live out and demonstrate in our culture. The above quote which he referenced made me think of the discussions on self-differentiation that I had in SP501 last fall.

The pastor referred back to the nation of Israel, which was "authorized" by the Torah (the law of Moses) to live a life wholly distinct from the world around it, but at the same time without being detached from the world around it. Israel, he said, through the Torah, was summoned away from both the coerciveness of Pharaoh and the self-indulgence of Canaan.

In much the same way, the early church was authorized by Jesus (and Paul) to live a life free from the coerciveness of Caesar and the self-indulgence of Rome. It was supposed to resist bowing the knee to Caesar in matters of moral authority and faith, but at the same time not use that religious freedom as a license for obstruction in civil matters or laxity in moral matters.

I think we have the same challenge today. We have pressure to conform to the expectations of the society around us, whether it's complying with the current version of political correctness, or supporting through our taxes programs that we find morally repugnant, in order to preserve societal harmony.

At the same time we are encouraged to "do our own thing", "find our own truth", and "be all we want to be", as if the people around us don't matter, and we can somehow be free from moral responsibility toward our neighbor.

Self-differentiation, in the church or as an individual, means that you hold the principles of autonomy and conformity in tension. You balance them. You consider yourself as free from coercion, while being careful to not needlessly give offense. You hold your ground when need be, and you also yield when need be.

Balance: it's hard to come by. Self-differentiation, as a person or as a community, is hard work. But it's also what God calls us to. We (I!) shouldn't avoid the effort it takes to live it out.

Keeping busy

is not so simple when you don't have to be at work. I've gotten so used to a certain routine, I feel sort of adrift. It's not like "vacation", either, because it isn't time off that I've chosen. I don't want vacation. I want to do something productive, something that someone values enough to pay me well for doing.

But at least I can use the time to do some things that need doing regardless, like prepping for my first exam in NT501, and then writing my first paper there as well. Later this week I'll do something that will feel appropriately like vacation, when I head SE to see a college BB game, per prior plans. But before then, and after, I need to do something useful.

And it might as well be for school, right? Eventually that Masters degree will produce something useful. Like a new career. One that has less frustration (and gaps) in it than this one seems to.

sinusoidal

.


mood oscillation
excited then discouraged
flatten out the wave


.

They're Dropping Like Flies

The job opportunities, that is.

And that's what they do. That is the process. You cast your net wide, but not too wide. You see what's out there that makes good and logical sense, what's in the realm of probability. You interact, you test, you assess, you filter. Both you... and the companies.

It's a bit like free agency in sports, I think. When you first become a free agent, there are lots of possibilities. Over time, the possibilities get narrowed down to the teams that are truly interested in you. You may or may not be interested in them. But your preferred teams (or cities) may not have a spot for you. So, because you want to keep playing, you talk seriously with those who are serious about you, desirable situations or not. Maybe late in the process some new team you like will enter the picture and make an offer at the last minute. But you deal with the ones who are currently talking to you.

The "weeding out" process is natural. And this week, it seemed like a lot of that happened. The number of active job opportunities dropped sharply. So, I continue to talk to those who are expressing some interest. Any kind of interest.

Later in the process, if nothing "reasonable" comes to fruition, and nothing new surfaces, you'll start to think: "gee, maybe I need to go down to the minors (baseball), or the Canadian league (football), or the European league (basketball), or to semipro (hockey), just to keep playing. I need a paycheck!"

And for me, that might mean considering the East Coast or West Coast, regions I've told my agent (er, excuse me, recruiter) not to explore. Yet.

'cause, hey, even though it's only for one more day, I'm still under contract in the majors. It's not yet time to consider playing in Japan. Toronto.. maybe. :)

Farrar/Gibbard & The Music of Kerouac's Big Sur

This show didn't get postponed or cancelled, at least. And good thing, because it was great! You might wonder, like I did, how well two "front men" (Farrar with Son Volt, and Gibbard with Death Cab for Cutie) would do together. Would they compete for attention? Would their voices clash? Would their styles be in opposition?



No, no, and no. :) They were great together, complementing one another. And they sort of met in the middle stylistically.

Good music, well-performed, and a seamless show. (including the opener, Sera Cahoone, a Seattle singer-songwriter with an "understated Neko Case" style that fed easily into the main act. Picked up her CD at the merch table for 10 bucks. Very nice.)






Farrar and Gibbard's music was from their recent CD "One Fast Move or I'm Gone", which is sort of a soundtrack album to a book (or at least a movie adaptation that hasn't been made yet): "Big Sur", by Jack Kerouac.


After having read it in December in preparation for this concert, I'd have to say that they hit the mark. The songs fit the book.


The only drawback to the show was being in line really early in the freezing cold, but not quite early enough to get a decent table with a sight line to the stage. :(

So we settled in at one right across from my favorite bartender's station. I hadn't been there at a show for several months, and he still remembered my order! :) That's the kind of guy I tip really well.



Fortunately we brought a deck of cards to pass the time, and several people walked by and asked what we were playing. One guy recognized the game as Spite & Malice, and took a picture to send to his girlfriend (they play a lot, apparently), who had to miss the show. Aww..






The Varsity had done quite a bit of remodeling since I was last there, and completely reworked the bathrooms upstairs to be sort of along the lines of their quirky business partner, the Loring Pasta Bar. The individual bathroom stalls had a fun and creepy old castle feel to them,



and the hygiene station was cool looking.

Despite the cold, a nice night out all around.