Feeling the vertigo

Daughter's Facebook Post:  Argh, the worst part of being slightly OCD is compulsively checking your work e-mail, only to find it empty because one of your bosses is out of town and the other is on paternity leave. Again, I invoke the name [redacted], because she knows the feeling... — with [redacted]

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  Daughter's friend:  HA! I even do this in my sleep.

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  Wise Old Me: A generation ago there used to be a bright line between work and the rest of your life, hence the term "work/life balance". The trend now is for work time and non-work time to become seamlessly integrated. You are feeling the vertigo as your senses adapt to a "zero gravity" sort of environment, where work is not predominantly pulling you, nor is your personal life - nothing (and everything) is pulling you, so you simply push off in the direction you choose. This is how we roll now, in the internet age.

Weather: How extreme is it?

Seems like the media is enjoying the process of hyping the weather the way they hype everything else, from the Oscars to the Fiscal Cliff.   SuperStorm Sandy!  Winter storm Q!  Snowmaggeddon!  Must we have a dramatic label for everything?

The latest hyped up storm which blew through here last night was initially forecast to drop some 20 inches during white-out conditions.  I just blew out about 5.5 from my driveway, and the only white-out I experienced last night was mistakenly opening my eyes when my face was buried in the pillow.

I'm starting to think that I should measure the extremity of winter by how many times I use my snowblower.  The little shovel-only snowfalls don't count.  Two years ago I didn't use the dang thing one time.  That was an unusually warm winter, and I would count it as extreme.

The count this year so far:  3.

That's within one standard deviation.  One more substantive snowfall (which is looking like Monday) and it will be right about at the mean.  

Yawn.

The Missionaries of Democracy

In past ages, various religious groups (most notably those descended from Abraham), had muscular missions movements.  (nice alliteration, huh?)   Whether it be the ancient Israelites, Roman Catholics, Lutheran/Anglican Protestants, or Muslims - all were guilty at some point of getting converts "at the point of a sword".  Examples are abundant in the literature of soldier/missionaries saying to the newly conquered:

"Renounce your pagan ways, confess your allegiance to [our version of] God, and you will live."

We don't do those things anymore, right?

Well, not so fast.  The United States sure does.  Our military and its expanding outposts around the world have become the modern equivalent of the muscular missionaries of past ages.  Except the faith we are preaching is Democracy.  Capitalist Democracy at that.  We say to the conquered (or those about to be so):

"Listen, you backward and corrupt nations: throw off your feudalism, your tribalism, your totalitarianism, your communism, your radical theocracies, and embrace western democracy, the only true and pure government under heaven.  Embrace Democracy... and Capitalism, too!  If you do, we'll give you foreign aid, and teach you how to spend it on trade with us.  We'll establish a military presence within your borders to protect you, send in NGOs to teach you how to live, and set up American businesses to provide your workers with jobs and buy your cheap goods.  Life as our allies will be better than you've ever had it before.

"If you refuse... well, there will be sanctions first to give you time to repent.  But at some point, we'll just send in drones, bomb your leaders, arm the revolutionaries among you, and once they overthrow you, we'll sign one-sided agreements with them and license out your natural resources to our real friends.  So, avoid this harsh judgment, won't you?  Just renounce your past ways and confess your belief in Capitalist Democracy as the one true path to Enlightenment and Prosperity.  Repent, and you shall live!"

Winter Storm Luna?

So the National Weather Service (NWS) has begun naming winter storms the way they name hurricanes.  And at present, winter storm Luna has us iced in.  (temporarily.  until the temps hit the 40s, which they will shortly).

Having grown up with winter storms (and walked through more than one to get home from school), driven foolishly through far too many on bald tires with crummy wiper blades, and shoveled out of untold numbers more, I questioned the judgment of the NWS when they began this naming business.  This stuff is normal life in the Great Lakes states.  The only winter storms we really remember are the ones that hit hard at Christmas, disrupting everyone's travel plans, or the ones that knock out power for long enough to have you lose the contents of your refrigerator/freezer.

I think it was a plot by those soft Easterners in Washington who can't cope with a little snow and ice.  You ask a native of the Upper Midwest if naming winter storms is a good idea, and they'll just look at you and ask: "are you from here?  If you were, you wouldn't ask."

What we ought to name is tornados.  (or is it tornadoes?  You say potato, I say potatoe...)  And we do sort of name them, right?  In 2011, we had two that people would remember: Joplin, MO, and Tuscaloosa/Birmingham.  We name them after the towns that they flatten, where the homes are gone and people die.

Flattening towns, and making people homeless (or dead):  now that's a storm you name.

As for winter storm Luna, I think I'll just go sprinkle some salt.

On being Bible-minded

First time I saw this graphic, I said to myself: "There has got to be a purpose for this, but I'm not sure I can articulate what it is."  Produced by the Barna Group (founded by George Barna of church growth strategies fame), it purports to tell the reader which sizable US cities (96 of them) are more "Bible-minded" than others.

Bible-minded?   What?

You mean as opposed to Koran-minded, or Veda-minded?  Or do you mean as opposed to secular-minded (i.e. readers of Asimov and Hitchens and the NY Times)?  Or as opposed to business-minded (devoted to stock tickers & the WSJ)?  Or culture-minded?  Or porn-minded?  Or crime-minded?  Or ... what?

Well, with Barna, you always have to consider the target audience, which is usually Evangelicals who are involved in church-related ministry (or companies like the one I work for who market to that same audience).  If you want to find a really ripe mission field for the Gospel, you could target New England.  From this chart it looks like a Bible-less wasteland.  If you want to find where the "Bible-believing churches" or their attendees live (in order to sell them Bible-related stuff), why... just work your way down the west side of the Blue Ridge and make straight for the Gulf.  You'll find the picking's nice & ripe.  Folks down there read the Bible most every day, and think it gives a mighty accurate description of the way things are.

At least that's how Barna Group defined being Bible-minded: weekly Bible reading and a commitment to its accuracy.

Hm.  Typical of those east-coast elites & intellectuals to disagree.

Play Money

Remember Monopoly money? When I played, I always surreptitiously slid a $500 under the board, so I would "forget" about it, and other players would, too. It was sort of my off-shore account, not real visible to the authorities. :)

Sometimes Monopoly money got used for other purposes (like pretend grocery shopping, or to teach budgeting), or it got colored upon, cut with scissors, chewed up by pets or toddlers, and it often disappeared altogether. But, the great thing about Monopoly money was... if you lost it or it was otherwise no good, you could always make more!

President Obama must have played Monopoly as a kid. Because his administration is talking about making some new stuff to take the place of what they've searched around and discovered... they don't actually have! So they will just play Monopoly and make some more. Out of platinum this time instead of paper.

$1,000,000,000,000.   One coin.   One time.

(yeah, sure..)

One of my favorite sportswriters, Gregg Easterbrook, whose column (TMQ) I read religiously on ESPN.com, included a piece in this week's edition which contained this snippet about the trillion-dollar-coin gambit, which could get around a recalcitrant Congress when it comes to debt ceiling time. He suggests: why stop at a trillion? It's fake anyway, so how about a ga-zill-ion dollars, like when we were kids? He says:

The Trillion-Dollar Coin Won't Work in a Coinstar Machine: The platinum trillion-dollar coin has been getting a lot of attention. Comedian John Oliver suggested one should be used in the Super Bowl coin toss, to heighten excitement. Slate asked readers to design a trillion-dollar coin. One has Big Bird on the obverse, another the legend MADE IN CHINA on the reverse. The winner depicts Barack Obama doing the Doctor Evil finger pose.

An obscure statute authorizes the Secretary of the Treasury to mint platinum coins "in the Secretary's discretion," in any denomination. Why stop at a trillion dollars? The United States could mint, say, a $100 trillion coin and use it to purchase Europe. We could mint a $1 quadrillion coin and use it to purchase the Milky Way.

I like it.  Let's buy Europe!  Kind of like Monopoly and Risk combined.  You don't fight wars for countries anymore, you BUY them.  With fake money!  How great is that?!?

American ingenuity at work, baby.

Happy Old New Year

Every New Year's Eve, I bring up from the wine cellar (read: basement) the oldest bottle I have. At I write this, I'm enjoying a 20-year old California Zinfandel (from Whaler Vineyard in Mendocino), purchased back when we lived in Visalia, CA, and while I was still a newbie oenophile.

The trickiest thing about storing wine for that long (without decent climate-controlled storage) is whether the cork will have leaked, and let in too much oxygen (turning the result to vinegar). In my experience, 1 of 2 makes it this long. And that's assuming you can get the cork out in one piece, too, which almost never happens, this bottle included. You wind up using a strainer to filter out little pieces.

But when a bottle does make it, the experience of interacting with it is pretty remarkable. The young explosion of ripe fruit is all gone, of course... that's expected. But what it leaves in it's place is the interesting part. This one laid down nicely and survived the years (and the cross-country moves) quite well. Surprisingly it still has some tannin (albeit that disappears within a few minutes in the glass), with hints of tobacco on the nose and almost a brandy-like finish. Smooth.

It just goes to show you that "old" can be quite satisfying, not to mention intriguing. Naturally, I knew that already, from substantial personal experience. ;)

Happy New Year! (from a well-aged collector of wine experiences.)

Whither the Apocalypse?

It's the day after doomsday, and all is still here.
Not a creature is missing, not a thing disappeared.

No comet came crashing, no meteors dropped,
The south and the north pole? They didn't flip-flop.

No enlightenment dawned, there's no New Age in sight,
And no nuclear holocaust unleashed overnight.

The preppers are snuggled all tight in their lairs
I wonder who'll tell them they can come up the stairs?

Today looks like yesterday, with the same thing tomorrow:
We'll have the same mix of delight and of sorrow.

So have a Good Christmas, take a cup of good cheer:
It seems safe now to celebrate a Mayan New Year. :)

Violence During Advent

Reflecting on the CT school shootings, we can remember in this Advent season that Jesus was born into a culture of violence against the innocent. Mt. 2:16-18 tells us:

"When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

'A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more.' "

And another prophet tells us that it won't always be like this. We won't always live in a world of darkness. Isaiah 9: 2, 5-7a reads: 

"The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned. [...] Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end."

There is still hope, even for people living in a culture of violence.

It's Winter Somewhere, Right?

So here we are in mid-December again, decorating the house, while Karen Carpenter sings: "It's that time of year when the world falls in love, every song you hear seems to say "Merry Christmas'...", there's a holiday party to go to tonight, and I want another cookie right now.

But there's no snow.  Instead there's a cold rain, and it's not looking like a real great chance of a White Christmas.  However, last weekend, I had my fill of snow for a while, including driving in it, standing in line in it, etc.  Minneapolis got a foot of the stuff the very day I went north by car for a Vikings/Bears  game.  Witness the Metrodome upon arriving, and the line waiting for the light rail afterwards.  Fortunately I parked under cover at the Mall of America, and didn't have to scrape off before heading home.

But boy, did we have great seats! First time in my life that I have sat right on the 50 yard line, and only 18 rows back. Wow.

It was great to be in that stadium again, even if it is small, and kind of a dump. The food is cheap, though, compared to other pro venues. And of course, the "community sing" happened every time there was a Viking score (and there were a few!), where we all sang along to "Skol! Vikings, let's go!".

Fun day, even with the snow. At least I can say I actually saw some this year. :)

A kinder, gentler, Borg?

Sunday, the pastor was talking about what human beings need to thrive.  One of those things is relationships - ones that go beneath the surface communication we have with co-workers, neighbors, shirt-tail relations, etc.  We need to be known, and we need to be loved.  And in order to be loved fully, we need to be known fully.  In this way, we are assured that we are loved IN SPITE OF our flaws, and not simply because we've hidden them.  This can only happen in committed, trust-filled relationships.

He went on to talk about the way our culture likes to put off making commitments in relationships, because committed relationships tie us to other people and cut off other options.  I found myself relating well to this idea.  I prefer options to commitments.  But at the same time I know that committed relationships are beneficial and redeeming.  I just tend to run from them.

Have you heard the term "web of relationships"?  That, to me, is not a helpful metaphor.  I think of committed relationships as a spider web - sticky, entrapping, immobilizing.  It's like that scene in Lord of the Rings, where Frodo is caught in the web of Shelob, the giant spider.  Frodo is trying to do what's right, but in doing so he's caught, and can no longer move independently and freely - instead he's dependent on someone else to rescue him, to free him from the confines of this web.  Unfortunately for me, this is the default setting on how I have seen relationships, from grade school onward.  I need a total reset on this topic.  I need a new metaphor to work with.

But what metaphor?  Maybe, um... a "network" of relationships?  Network is not a threatening term like "web" is.  I put files out on the network at the office, where I can share them with others.  J1 is really good at networking for career advancement purposes.  J2 has a vast network of friends.  D has fewer but deeper, more committed ones she goes to regularly.  You can plug in to a network, and unplug, too, right?  Yes, there may be a network administrator that sets some rules of use, but is that so bad? Seems benign enough.  I could sort of see small groups at church in this way..   maybe..  like networking..  especially if you aren't locked in to them forever.  But how committed are unpluggable relationships like this?  Not very.  Doesn't the network really need to be deeper, stronger?

Ah, but what about a network like "the Borg"?  Remember that Star Trek movie, First Contact, where the main enemy for the episode was this network which expanded only by assimilation?  Here each person was assimilated into the collective consciousness called the Borg, such that all their unique talents and perspectives were added to the network, so that the network benefited, but in return they lost their individuality.  They simply became automatons doing the bidding of the collective.

Assimilation like that in a church setting is something I have experienced in the past - where you join, and in joining you are expected to behave, to present yourself publicly in a certain way in order to be part of the group.  You are expected to think and speak, and deal with life's difficulties, in a certain way - the way the collective says you should.  And if you try to deviate behaviorally, theologically, or express doubt in the collective wisdom, you are reprimanded for it.  I fear this every bit as much as being caught in a spider's web of relationships.

But couldn't there be a kinder, gentler, version of the Borg?  Couldn't the church preserve our individuality in the midst of deep connectedness?  It seems that this is what Saint Paul was driving at in 1 Cor. 12-14: the importance of each one's unique talent and perspective, but within the context of a dynamic, spiritually living organism called "the Body of Christ".  In my reading of the passage, no one is expected to give up their individuality when becoming a part of the church, rather a recognition of that uniqueness is what Paul teaches.   Still, there is an expectation of some baseline commitments and behavior, for the greater good - there is a sense in which the collective must work cohesively, cooperatively, implying a need for mutual submission and committment.

I get this, at least in principle.  I support the need for community, for committed relationships within it, and for a more corporate reading of the New Testament.  But it's still a really, really difficult thing for me to warm up to.  I need a better metaphor for committed relationships in community than a web (Shelob) or a network (Borg).  There must be something else that I can use to get more comfortable with the notion of commitment within a community.  And sitting here at home on Thanksgiving, sick as a dog from a seasonal rhinovirus, I'm not sure "members of the same body" is the best one, either.  I'm feeling real familiar right now with the notion that when one of the parts of the body hurts (in my case, my rib cage and throat from hard coughing), the whole body suffers.  Ugh.

I just can't think of a better metaphor than that one.   Yet.

Major Dad, reporting for duty.

So as of July, we were back to empty-nesting again, after a brief stint as every-day, active-duty parents for J2 while he re-attempted college. While that experiment did not go well, what did go well was a temp job that turned into full-time with benefits. As a result, by next month, he'll be financially independent of us again as well. So, no dependents will be listed on 2013's 1040 form, except the basic two you get from filing jointly. In the meantime, during this same stretch J1 lost her job, and for the last 3 months, she's been unemployed and searching, which has gotten us involved as well. (She's now fully employed again, though, thanks be to God).

There is kind of an oscillation to this grown-child parenting phase of life. One kid is nicely settled but the other one is facing some sort of life trauma. Then that kid's trauma resolves, with said kid settling in to better circumstances, and ... the formerly solid one gets rocked by some unexpected jolt. You're not neck deep in their circumstances the way you used to be when they lived at home, though. As a parent of grown kids, your main involvement with them is a sweet/sour cocktail of joy and worry, with the exact blend varying from one serving to the next. For the most part, it's essentially passive involvement, reacting to their ups and downs.

But occasionally, there is a need to become actively involved. I've experienced this with each kid a couple of times in the last couple of years. What it kind of feels like is a reservist being called to active duty. Sometimes you can see it coming, just by seeing circumstances develop, other times it's a total surprise. But, surprise or not, convenient or not, you do what reservists are expected to do: report for duty. And right now, soldier!

When J1 and then J2 went off to college, I essentially went from being a father on active duty, to a weekend warrior in the parenting reserves. Maybe once a year, you have a couple weeks of active duty, refreshing your parenting skills, but mostly it's just a light weekly or monthly contact keeping current with a SitRep briefing by phone, by email, or over Sunday dinner. But now and then, sometimes without warning, you get the call: "Hey, Dad? Um...", and you dig the uniform out of the closet and put it on, hoping it still fits.

"Reporting for duty, sweetie (or buddy, as the case may be), Major Dad at your service. So what's our situation?"

As for me, after hearing positively from both children about their life circumstances, I think I just got my orders being released from my latest deployment. This father-soldier is putting his civvies on again. :)

Nice place for a seminar

Boy, you know, it's tough when your only industry conference option left for the year (and which you need to get your required Continuing Ed credits) is in ... Orlando.  (Awww... you feel for me, I know)

The airport part of the experience wasn't that remarkable, except that the interior monorail in the concourse in Detroit where we connected was kind of unexpected.

Going a day early made it possible to poke around rural Florida for a bit, and take in some of the local wildlife at a trailer park where the grandparents winter.

But after that, we got to our ultimate destination, a very picturesque place just across the water from Epcot (which is lovely at night) and the Fantasia mini-golf course (which is the best one I've ever played).

Plus, the workshops were also top-notch. Came back with several new ideas to implement at work, and a renewed appreciation for a well-done resort setting for a conference. Time well spent, all around.

Stuck in Lambeau

Once a year we make a pilgrimage to Lambeau Field for a Packer game.  The day was great, the game was great, the VIP passes for sideline access were extra great.  Photo record below.

Only this time we almost didn't get back home.  The car started after the game but the shifter wouldn't move out of "Park".  Good old AAA towed us to a dealership and dropped us off at a hotel for the night and in the morning we discovered what was wrong.  An $8.00 "spring assembly" broke underneath the shift lever.  $300 worth of shop labor later, we were on out way home, minus one unplanned vacation day.  Oh well.  Could've been worse, right?  At least it decided to break at Lambeau, instead of at a gas station in Waupaca or someplace.  Lambeau field is pretty at night...

But I do like it better during the day. :)

You can see the new construction at the top of the South End Zone - lots of new seats coming next year, so the waiting list will get a little smaller, and J1 & J2's names a little closer to the top.

The rest of this post is a photo recap of the pre-game on-field visit (including shots of the bench, the heaters, the first aid rack, the replay booth, Fox's overhead camera, Aaron Rodgers & Clay Matthews warming up, and... Pam Oliver on the sidelines.  What hair!)