and what if 3/5 of them just "get kidnapped?"
Some of you are going to sign up for this.
You know it.
We know it.
Feel free to add me if you are one of them - greggorant@gmail.com
I mean, just to be safe.
Props to Brant Hansen for turning me on to this.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
the glorious summer retread
Every summer, now, this nice little article comes to mind. And as we are now on the verge of some new Coldplay, it really comes to mind. I only post it once per summer, and this is your day, friends. Ah, Summer05. How well I remember it!
If you want to go back and comment on the original post, so as to make yourself more famous, be my guest.
Here, loved ones, is your retread from July 20, 2005. Enjoy.
Every summer, now, this nice little article comes to mind. And as we are now on the verge of some new Coldplay, it really comes to mind. I only post it once per summer, and this is your day, friends. Ah, Summer05. How well I remember it!
If you want to go back and comment on the original post, so as to make yourself more famous, be my guest.
Here, loved ones, is your retread from July 20, 2005. Enjoy.
passion, sweet passion
Sometimes, I'll just be minding my own business when it starts to take over. The feeling. The lust. The thirst that can only be quenched one way. Only one way. Yes, I sit back in my chair, close my eyes and imagine it. What it will be like, look like, smell like..and even...taste like. Fighting it is useless at this point. At first, a peace begins to surround me until my conscious mind realizes that the object of my desire is not actually touching my skin at the moment, moving in perfect harmony with me. It is at this point I begin not only to sweat slightly, but to realize that I must act immediately or burn with desire in uncontrollable agony.
But what of my obligations and responsibilities? What of them? What of my commitments? I put these thoughts aside as I apply some Target brand instant hand sanitizer to my perfectly sculpted hands. Hands that will hopefully soon be satisfied. Why? Because of fulfilled desire. That's why. Oh yes. Yes oh. I'm ready. No. Wait. The phone rings. I must answer it. Fortunately, my massive brain hyperthreads at every opportunity and I am able to dispense sound advice to clients while still salivating over that which will soon "be totally owned" by the GReggo. I will have what I want. I hurry the conversation along with amens and soon it is over. I close my eyes once again and enter a dreamlike state. I envision every detail of the encounter to come. The sights, the sounds. How I have imagined it! Oh joy. Joy will soon enrapture me.
My lunch appointment arrives. I hastily suggest taking separate cars so that I may take my diversion after lunch. He falls for it. Sucker. We arrive at the restaurant and I attempt to hurry the interview along. I gaze out the window as I speak, asking the typical questions and hearing the typical responses. I fidget. I play with my food, pushing it around the plate. I'm so filled with anticipation and desire that even eating has lost its allure. I get my ghetto wallet out in an attempt to push this thing along. My heart beats slightly faster with the knowledge that soon I shall be on my way. I imagine the various drab xeriscapes that I shall glance at en route to my destination. I hear the voice of The Master Blogger droning on about where the xeriscape post is and whether or not I should "merely assign the task to him." I curse him under my breath.
"What?" asks my companion.
"Nothing," I respond. But isn't that a lie? A vicious, hideous lie? Yes it is, but who cares? Truth telling stands in the way of mission, therefore it loses this standoff.
Finally I blurt out that I don't feel well and ask my companion if he could hurry up and finish. He seems offended by this, but since I have grown to loathe him so, I don't care. We part.
Finally alone, I race to my destination. Several near misses with other vehicles. "Who let the idiots out?" I ask myself. It is hot. I am sweating form both the heat and the eager anticipation. Yes, my day has arrived. Yes. Yes Oh, one million sweet yesses.
I pull into the parking lot. I circle the building a couple of times because I sense I am slightly too early. Plus there is a Coldplay song on the radio. For a moment I wonder what Chris would do if he were here. But then I realize that he has nothing to do with this. I am ashamed. But I press on. I find a parking place and turn off the car. My heart is beating faster. Will it be as I imagined it? I cannot say, and that worries me slightly. I get out of my car and at first I walk in a slow, controlled manner. It is hard to control my breathing. After a very brief period of mediation, I get it back under control. With determination, I move forward. Faster. Faster. My heart feels as if it is racing. I become light headed. I walk faster. I nearly trip. I admire the way my GReggoshoes look against the color of the pavement.
I am inside. I'm so excited now that I giggle slightly and instantly attempt to disguise it as a cough. Giddy. That is the only way to describe me now. My plan is all coming together. I stop. I'm here. I begin to raise my arm - slowly at first. I catch the sight of my artistic hand as I begin to extend my fingers. I pause momentarily. Hands, please oh please don't fail me now. Not now. Please, I beg of you. It's as if the whole world screeches to a halt for just a moment. A glorious, overwhelming moment of ecstasy. I reach. I touch. I caress. I rifle. I select. Oh, joy. Fulfillment. Finally. Oh yes.
I take the three black shirts to the register and pay for them.
"It's kind of hot outside to be wearing black shirts," says the cashier.
"Whatever," I think to myself. A slight smile appears on my face. I can feel it.
I return to work and begin the second half of my day. None of my coworkers are any the wiser. And why should they be?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
hey, this one is for church people
...so if you aren't one of those, feel free to come back tomorrow...or stay...whatever
I read a blog today that I found interesting. It was posted originally by a pastor's wife, and entitled, "An Open Letter to a Church Hopper." You can find the original post here if you are interested.
For those of you who don't live in a "church market" like Dallas, TX, the concept of a "church hopper" might not even resonate with you. In places like Dallas, you find a church almost literally on every corner. And not just small, country churches like on Little House on the Prairie. Our church, for instance, is located on a street where within no more than a half a mile or so, there are no less than 10 to 12 churches. At least half of those churches have memberships of over 1000 - at least two of them are in the 10,000 range.
That makes for a very interesting dynamic. For one thing, people tend to move from church to church...a lot. hence the term, "church hopper." For another thing, it's been said that churches in this situation can tend to shift their focus away from introducing non-Christians to Christ and toward attracting and retaining Christians from other churches. I don't think any of the churches I mentioned would characterize it that way, but the criticism has been leveled, and though it stings a bit, there is some truth in it, at least in my opinion.
Attracting Christians from other churches isn't that hard. They get the itch to look around, maybe because the church they attend doesn't offer enough services at the right time, or the preacher just doesn't appeal to them any more (maybe he's getting too old, or the style is wrong, or they are tired of him) or the worship is too loud. too soft, too old, too young, too long, too short, too spirited, too "dead," or there isn't a good enough youth group, or children's ministry, or the church asks for money too often, or they aren't doing enough for the community or they are doing too much for the community, or they are soft on one aspect of doctrine or too harsh on one aspect of doctrine...or...you get the picture. Sometimes, people move across the city, or they move out of town or whatever, and it doesn't make sense to drive 45 minutes to a church when there is one across the street from you. I get that.
Keeping Christians who have left other good churches to join yours is next to impossible. Sometimes, it works out. Often, it doesn't. And some people, well, they just aren't there for the long haul. You never know. But one thing you can count on is this: If they left another church because of something they didn't like, your chance of keeping them is slim to none. Why? Because the way they roll is to leave a church when they realize there is something there that they don't like. Sure, your worship is different enough for them now, but they will eventually see that it is (see the above list). Yes, they love the sermons now...but what about once they realize that their favorite religious soap boxes aren't being addressed? What if your children's ministry is understaffed, or your youth ministry isn't cool enough or worse yet...is too cool? What about when they encounter the "special" people at your church?
Generally, something comes up that just doesn't work for them, and they are "on to the next one."
The blog I took the following excerpt from is interesting. Consider reading it in its entirety. Here is the sentence that captured my attention:
"The Church was not commissioned by Christ to meet your needs. You ARE the Church, and you've been commissioned to meet the needs of the world."
I've been reflecting on that statement all morning. It stings. But I think there is something there for me and for the way I look at the church.
What do you think?
Love to you,
-GReggo
...so if you aren't one of those, feel free to come back tomorrow...or stay...whatever
I read a blog today that I found interesting. It was posted originally by a pastor's wife, and entitled, "An Open Letter to a Church Hopper." You can find the original post here if you are interested.
For those of you who don't live in a "church market" like Dallas, TX, the concept of a "church hopper" might not even resonate with you. In places like Dallas, you find a church almost literally on every corner. And not just small, country churches like on Little House on the Prairie. Our church, for instance, is located on a street where within no more than a half a mile or so, there are no less than 10 to 12 churches. At least half of those churches have memberships of over 1000 - at least two of them are in the 10,000 range.
That makes for a very interesting dynamic. For one thing, people tend to move from church to church...a lot. hence the term, "church hopper." For another thing, it's been said that churches in this situation can tend to shift their focus away from introducing non-Christians to Christ and toward attracting and retaining Christians from other churches. I don't think any of the churches I mentioned would characterize it that way, but the criticism has been leveled, and though it stings a bit, there is some truth in it, at least in my opinion.
Attracting Christians from other churches isn't that hard. They get the itch to look around, maybe because the church they attend doesn't offer enough services at the right time, or the preacher just doesn't appeal to them any more (maybe he's getting too old, or the style is wrong, or they are tired of him) or the worship is too loud. too soft, too old, too young, too long, too short, too spirited, too "dead," or there isn't a good enough youth group, or children's ministry, or the church asks for money too often, or they aren't doing enough for the community or they are doing too much for the community, or they are soft on one aspect of doctrine or too harsh on one aspect of doctrine...or...you get the picture. Sometimes, people move across the city, or they move out of town or whatever, and it doesn't make sense to drive 45 minutes to a church when there is one across the street from you. I get that.
Keeping Christians who have left other good churches to join yours is next to impossible. Sometimes, it works out. Often, it doesn't. And some people, well, they just aren't there for the long haul. You never know. But one thing you can count on is this: If they left another church because of something they didn't like, your chance of keeping them is slim to none. Why? Because the way they roll is to leave a church when they realize there is something there that they don't like. Sure, your worship is different enough for them now, but they will eventually see that it is (see the above list). Yes, they love the sermons now...but what about once they realize that their favorite religious soap boxes aren't being addressed? What if your children's ministry is understaffed, or your youth ministry isn't cool enough or worse yet...is too cool? What about when they encounter the "special" people at your church?
Generally, something comes up that just doesn't work for them, and they are "on to the next one."
The blog I took the following excerpt from is interesting. Consider reading it in its entirety. Here is the sentence that captured my attention:
"The Church was not commissioned by Christ to meet your needs. You ARE the Church, and you've been commissioned to meet the needs of the world."
I've been reflecting on that statement all morning. It stings. But I think there is something there for me and for the way I look at the church.
What do you think?
Love to you,
-GReggo
Monday, May 26, 2008
lighter notes?
lighter notes?
I watched a bird utilize our bird bath today, both in drinking from it and bathing in it. That made me smile.
I sat down to play our piano today, avoiding the high B and C, both badly out of tune. I played and sang one of my songs. It was nice. I looked out the window while I was doing that. My song felt good under my hands. I sang and played to God, no one else. I hope that made Him smile.
Dixie is cleaning windows today. I did my best to help with the outside upstairs, stopping only at climbing the ladder high enough to get on the roof. No thank you. It's amazing how different I feel about getting on the roof at 46 as opposed to 26. It's like a whole different thing. Weird. I did help some inside too. She is doing an amazing job, and we are all going to enjoy looking out of these clear windows. Awesome.
I was thinking yesterday about how my decades have gone so far. Here's kind of the rundown I arrived at:
0's - whatever
10's - hook, line, and sinker
20's - reject everything
30's - know everything / always right
40's - pretty sure i know almost nothing
For 50's and up, I'm looking forward to more adventure, but I hope that I just start smiling a lot and letting people know I love them.
I listened to 3 Steely Dan "albums" today. I say that because that is what we used to call them back in the day. When the cool, soothing sounds of "Aja" came on, I could literally smell vinyl. What a pleasant memory. Some of you know what I mean, don't you?
Love to you,
-GReggo
I watched a bird utilize our bird bath today, both in drinking from it and bathing in it. That made me smile.
I sat down to play our piano today, avoiding the high B and C, both badly out of tune. I played and sang one of my songs. It was nice. I looked out the window while I was doing that. My song felt good under my hands. I sang and played to God, no one else. I hope that made Him smile.
Dixie is cleaning windows today. I did my best to help with the outside upstairs, stopping only at climbing the ladder high enough to get on the roof. No thank you. It's amazing how different I feel about getting on the roof at 46 as opposed to 26. It's like a whole different thing. Weird. I did help some inside too. She is doing an amazing job, and we are all going to enjoy looking out of these clear windows. Awesome.
I was thinking yesterday about how my decades have gone so far. Here's kind of the rundown I arrived at:
0's - whatever
10's - hook, line, and sinker
20's - reject everything
30's - know everything / always right
40's - pretty sure i know almost nothing
For 50's and up, I'm looking forward to more adventure, but I hope that I just start smiling a lot and letting people know I love them.
I listened to 3 Steely Dan "albums" today. I say that because that is what we used to call them back in the day. When the cool, soothing sounds of "Aja" came on, I could literally smell vinyl. What a pleasant memory. Some of you know what I mean, don't you?
Love to you,
-GReggo
Saturday, May 24, 2008
life
It's been my experience that often conservative christians who describe themselves as adamantly pro-life (against abortion) are at the same time in favor of the death penalty.
This seems incongruous to me.
Can anyone reconcile this or explain it?
Love to you,
-GReggo
Monday, March 17, 2008
holy week journey
I've thought about this for a while, so here goes.
I'm going to post for several days primarily about things I think of related to my faith. For the purposes of setting the record as straight as possible, my faith is Christianity. I might call it any number of other appropriate or even clever things like Jesus-following, Christ-following, The Way, whatever. But to the general American consumer, I might just as well say I am a Christian. In this country, anyway, that could actually mean any number of things. You might find upon closer investegation that it means only a few of the things you would assume it means.
Clearing that up is not really the purpose of the essays I aim to write this week. I'm not going to defend the faith, or try to get you to see that it is indeed The Way, or get into a debate with you about any of it. My point is that I just want to write a bit about some (a very few) of the things I have found to be tremendously meaningful along the journey. "Holy Week" seems like an appropriate time to highlight this kind of thing, so that is the choice I have made.
I hope you will find something of worth here. To those of you who don't buy in to Christianity, well, I'm going to talk about Jesus this week - probably all week. So if you want to take a week off of Greggoranting, I won't be offended. Several of you have let me know privately that you are fine with reading Christian thoughts here. I appreciate your thoughts, and I'm glad you read here and I'm glad I read you. To my Christian friends, I hope that you find something here that will be worthy of your time as well.
I can't make any promises about it, but at least you know my intent.
One thing that got me thinking about all of this was church this morning. Because at church this morning, I saw something that really touched me deeply.
Ashley Etier danced in our church service. I appreciated this so much, and I could see the loving care that she and Theresa Taylor put into this beautiful artistic expression of a passage of prophetic poetry in the book of Isaiah. It wasn't just the work that was put into it, though. It was the actual dance. To me, her beautifully crafted expression brought Isaiah's poetry to life in a new way that words on a page - even poetic words do not. The dance guided my imagination through the prophetic pictures. The dance interpreted the prophecy, but in an artistic (open) way. It left me to deal with the implications rather than telling me what the implications must be. Frankly, I enjoyed having that space.
Dangerous.
Lovely.
Beautiful.
It was a stretch for me. A welcomed, needed stretch.
I'm going to keep thinking about it, but later. I should sleep now.
I'm going to post for several days primarily about things I think of related to my faith. For the purposes of setting the record as straight as possible, my faith is Christianity. I might call it any number of other appropriate or even clever things like Jesus-following, Christ-following, The Way, whatever. But to the general American consumer, I might just as well say I am a Christian. In this country, anyway, that could actually mean any number of things. You might find upon closer investegation that it means only a few of the things you would assume it means.
Clearing that up is not really the purpose of the essays I aim to write this week. I'm not going to defend the faith, or try to get you to see that it is indeed The Way, or get into a debate with you about any of it. My point is that I just want to write a bit about some (a very few) of the things I have found to be tremendously meaningful along the journey. "Holy Week" seems like an appropriate time to highlight this kind of thing, so that is the choice I have made.
I hope you will find something of worth here. To those of you who don't buy in to Christianity, well, I'm going to talk about Jesus this week - probably all week. So if you want to take a week off of Greggoranting, I won't be offended. Several of you have let me know privately that you are fine with reading Christian thoughts here. I appreciate your thoughts, and I'm glad you read here and I'm glad I read you. To my Christian friends, I hope that you find something here that will be worthy of your time as well.
I can't make any promises about it, but at least you know my intent.
One thing that got me thinking about all of this was church this morning. Because at church this morning, I saw something that really touched me deeply.
Ashley Etier danced in our church service. I appreciated this so much, and I could see the loving care that she and Theresa Taylor put into this beautiful artistic expression of a passage of prophetic poetry in the book of Isaiah. It wasn't just the work that was put into it, though. It was the actual dance. To me, her beautifully crafted expression brought Isaiah's poetry to life in a new way that words on a page - even poetic words do not. The dance guided my imagination through the prophetic pictures. The dance interpreted the prophecy, but in an artistic (open) way. It left me to deal with the implications rather than telling me what the implications must be. Frankly, I enjoyed having that space.
Dangerous.
Lovely.
Beautiful.
It was a stretch for me. A welcomed, needed stretch.
I'm going to keep thinking about it, but later. I should sleep now.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
saturday (3.15.08
Not that much to report yet.
My head hurts a little.
Breaking the cycle this morning. It's a battle.
I'll let you know how it goes.
-------update 1--------
Well, my head is fine now, but the rest of me hurts. On the way to the gym, Dixie and Clayre decided they should invite me to some class they go to. I've been planning to try someday, but I really wanted a month or two more of my own program before assimilating.. Well, they said, "Oh, come on, if we can do it surely you can do it," appealing to my masculine competitive spirit (which by the way I can turn off at a moment's notice). So sure, whatever, I'll try.
But first, I asked, "Do other men do this class, or only women?"
"Oh, yeah, there's guys in there." (This was a lie).
So here we go the doors open and everyone but me knows what to do and where to get the equipment. If not for my precious Dixie, I'd still be looking for all of the crap I needed to survive the hour. There was a very loud female voice barking out instructions, but with all the mirrors and newness of the surroundings, it took me five full minutes to identify the body that belonged to the voice.
So I pushed through the fear of looking like a dork, and the fear of Tim Money walking in and catching me in a girl's class. Those fears were quickly replaced with a new one...where exactly in this mirrored room will I find a place to throw up?
Basically, the girl's class kicked my ace all over the place.
At present, I feel like a noodle.
I think the most ridiculous part was seeing myself in a mirror, my massive sculpted hands making the teeny purple dumbells all but invisible within them, barely able to push my arms upward.
Yes, I'll be back next week.
The most important thing, though, is that the cycle (at least for the immediate moment) is broken.
My trek continues.
Friday, February 15, 2008
road trip
I gotta admit I love the road trip.
Tonight, we go.
Kid3 and I (and I think Kid1 may tag along) are headed down to Aggieland for "Aggieland Saturday." We are still working on our schedule, but we've anchored it around the 2:30 basketball game with OSU. I guess we'll start heading back some time after that. We've been looking forward to this. I can't believe that kid is going to be almost gone from the nest a year from now.
I know Detmer still won't accept my Aggieland citizenship even after two of my offspring and all of my money have gone there, but there is a certain segment of any group who are going to be exclusively clique-ish, no matter what you do. I still love you, Detmer. I always will.
Y'all have yourselves a great day today as you get used to the idea of your next president being Barack Obama.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
stuff and sunday
I know the Waffle House is dirty and bad for you and all that stuff. I just want to point out that I noticed they don't deep fry anything. That's all. Don't waste our time with responses.
I usually have no trouble keep my pants on. Sunday was weird about that.
Once place I do not want to work ever is in the office of a high school. Many deer, many headlights. Chaos. I'd constantly be screaming, "Are you an idiot? I just answered that!"
So the thing about Sunday morning is this:
We had a normal, great first part of the service with plenty of stuff to praise to. Typical, good, nice. Then for the communion and post-communion time, the band whittled down to just Jessi and Jason (doesn't update...don't bother clicking). Jessi on keys, Jason on super sweet electric. The mix was nice, there was plenty of bass in the keyboard, etc. But that isn't what really did it for me. If you've never heard Jessi sing, you've allowed yourself to be cheated. I don't know how to describe it except to say it is most lovely. For the service plan, I had Jessi let me know what songs she wanted to do, and then she and Jason worked together on keys and stuff. Jason improvised with her, and Jessi led the songs.
She picked "O Praise Him" (Crowder / Passion) and "Holy Is The Lord" (Tomlin / Passion). Really interesting choices, because both of those songs were in the top 10 for HCC in 2006 AND 2007. Normally, we perform them as they were conceived - straightforward, upbeat (sometimes with a very nice Coldplay Politik intro) nice and loud - loud and proud - that is just the kind of songs they are. They are like anthem songs or something.
Anyway, imagine them slowed down, loved on, and performed with an amazing solo voice, understated, fat, warm cushy keyboard and expertly-played electric guitar "sounds." It was like Sara M started loving Jesus and coming to church. And mean that with the highest of compliments.
The feeling in the room was electric. I could see how moved people were. Hearing the very familiar words sung in a completely different, beautiful style was just awesome. I couldn't believe I was in the middle of this experience. So soothing, so comforting, so honoring and loving to Jesus. Simply amazing.
One of the coolest things there is about being an elder is getting to pray for people when they are experiencing the prompting of the Spirit to come back for prayer. We allow a pretty good amount of space for this in our services. The environment that Jessi and Jason were helping to create for all of us to encounter God was just such a blessing.
I think our music is pretty consistently good, but I'm slightly biased. This was special. Really special. It was one of those things we could never create again, and in fact there is no need to try. It was special for the very time of its created purpose. It was meant for then. Tomorrow brings new adventures...not just recreated ones of the past. God has new things for us .
OK, so there you go. That's it.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
passion
I met Louie Giglio today at a pretty small gathering.
He was really nice, and it was great to get to meet him.
Passion does some really great stuff. Check it out sometime.
G
I met Louie Giglio today at a pretty small gathering.
He was really nice, and it was great to get to meet him.
Passion does some really great stuff. Check it out sometime.
G
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Sunday, January 06, 2008
wrapping up the weekend
I'm going to try to share more with you all this week. I do have stuff to say.
I had the greatest nap today - my favorite kind - on my bed, on top of the covers until I woke up chilled. Then slipped into the covers and that is the best kind of nap to me. It was glorious. Glorious.
I used to hate Sunday nights. My work life was ridiculous, stressful and almost unbearable. Every Sunday night I would feel the stress building up for what I had to face that week. It was hard to admit until I was away from it and no longer felt like I was going to die every Sunday night.
Admitting to you my anger deal (last post) must have helped me. I was able to get much more calm even without circumstances changing. There is something to this admitting it stuff.
Well, like I said, I have stuff to share and I'll start trying to do so immediately.
Later,
G
Thursday, December 27, 2007
it must just be me?
So dinner is in the oven, and I sit to kill a little time by flipping. I enjoy that at the end of a day. I start with the lowest number on the TV which happens to be a christian station. Big San Antonio guy is preaching in his usual style, and as he gives the recap of his 4-part sermon series on how to be a winner or whatever, he says this:
"There are 7 principles in the word of God about how to have your prayers answered. The disciples came to Jesus and said, 'Lord, teach us to pray.' That very sentence means there is a right way and a wrong way to pray. And when you pray according to the formula given by Jesus Christ, your prayers get answered. Otherwise, they're not."
*Calls BS on this kind of stuff*
I can't be alone in this. I'm tired, really tired of formulaic, pseudo-superstitious, "you have to hear my message on that to get it" approaches to the Divine. I think it is wrong to tell people stuff like that. It's like we are all on drugs or we are about to drink the Kool-aide for the umpteenth time. I think of the poor, struggling person whose life is on the skids who listens to this kind of garbage and thinks, "If I can just get it right...say the right things at the right time like the holy man on the stage, then I'll be able to pull my life back together..." It's crap.
Anytime you concretely say that there are 7 (and that was picked because of the mysterious nature of numerology) principles about bla bla bla, you are already doomed for ridiculousness before you even complete your sentence. Enough. We've had enough. I'm sick to death of this kind of crap. Away with your "I've got the key...THE KEY for you to get all the stuff you want from God, and here is the secret incantation, even though you probably will never be righteous enough to acheive the good life.
Yes, I know I ought to quit watching it. Maybe that is one of my NY resolutions.
Have a happy.
Love you,
G
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
onward
I don't have time at the moment to give you a play by play. Plus it isn't all that interesting.
It was good, but I'm always glad when it is over.
It was nice to see everyone and celebrate together.
Hope yours was good too.
Talk soon.
G
Sunday, December 23, 2007
past, present, and future
I was happy to see that we had a pretty good number of folks at church today. We are more of a "go home and see your parents" church than a "bring your parents and relatives to church" church. Today, I got to meet some friends' parents. That was very nice. And it was fun and different to have more of a classically-based service for an interesting change. I was really proud of the work that the choir did, especially considering that we never or almost never use a choir.
After watching today's rather ridiculous demise of the Packers (yes Gumball, those actual Packers, not the Cowboys you keep calling the Packers), I thought that even though it was good for us that they went down today, it was kind of sad, too. I'd rather (in most cases) see Favre have a good day. When he doesn't, its kind of like noticing that someone you like and respect has started employing the comb-over. Pathetic, really.
After the game, we decided that if we were going to watch Schindler's List that it had better be right now. So, we did it. I probably won't be writing about this for a while, so I'll just sum it up for you here. My good thoughts for that masterwork only increase with each viewing. It will be some time before I can handle it again as it is just too intense. I still think that the last 30 minutes of that film are some of the best moments ever produced on film.
Joel slept through (as he put it) "all the torture parts," so he "wasn't as soft toward it at the end." But he knew that he missed some of the investment necessary to reap the benefits of Schindler's last monologue.
I came away this time with even more of an appreciation for the fact that Schindler was just a regular, conflicted, flawed guy with questionable motives who grew tremendously. I love the irony in him pointing out that war draws out only the bad in people and never the good - while he himself has the opposite experience. I love his humility and broken honesty at the end. And I love that he truly gave what was so important to him - never to recover his fortune and never to truly see the full impact of his acts of kindness.
Well, I could go on and on. But that is enough for now.
Tomorrow brings a little wee bit more shopping and the beginning of the cooking cycle for Monday night and Tuesday. Once Christmas is over, I suppose I'll reflect about what has been a roller coaster ride of a year and look toward the realities of 2008. We will be hanging around mostly this next week. If you are local or even if you aren't, feel free to stop by. You are always welcome here.
I wish you a very Merry Christmas, my friends.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
weekend
Dixie and I got to spend most of the day together, even though we were participating in the Christmas shopping mayhem. Honestly, it wasn't that bad. We worked in a fairly strategic manner, ate lunch together in a non-hurried fashion, and took in a movie. We bought stuff, but we also spent some time just looking and thinking and saying what we liked and didn't like. I think our tastes have become very similar, even though I still don't know a good ladies shoe from a poor ladies shoe.
All in all, we had a good day.
The movie? "No Country For Old Men." I thought it was fantastic. I love the Coens.
Friday, December 21, 2007
may have to wait a few days
Well, our plans didn't pan out exactly. My grown-up kids went over to my sister's house for some kind of Christmas get together, and they didn't return until around 11:00. Um...too late for Schindler. We'll see how things go this weekend.
Sarah had a work engagement, so Ryan stayed for dinner. That was nice. We made some Chicken Marsala as a team. Me = pounding / cooking the chicken and Dixie = spaghetti and crafting the (delicious) sauce for the marsala. It was kind of like an impromptu thing, which made it much more fun.
Also, I experimented with garlic cheese biscuits, once again drawing the usual criticism from my children that I had become "obsessed." That means that I have done an activity more than once in perhaps a month. So they say, "Dad, you're obsessed with biscuits now." Whatever. The biscuits I have been making of late (and yes, I am trying to perfect them) use buttermilk and self-rising flour. I keep self-rising flour on hand, but not buttermilk. But I bought some buttermilk to make a pie, so I have a carton in the fridge. My thought is that before the buttermilk I have goes bad, I should try to use it. I'm just trying to be a good steward. And if that makes me obsessed, then that is a good kind of obsession - using the resources all the way. Also, not one person complains when they are stuffing their yapping little faces full of glorious biscuit.
Next time, I shall use more garlic and more cheese. Still, they were good.
I've told you nothing in this post save the unimpressive details of what turned into a very pleasant evening. Schindler can wait a few days. I'll be ready for the experience.
Today, we should probably buy a couple of things.
Have a good one, yall.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
all the livelong day
Well, I experienced a first yesterday.
I attended a funeral that concluded with a standing singing of "The Eyes of Texas."
*reflects*
Friday, December 14, 2007
hospital day
Just like I have a funeral file started with my pastor, I am starting to compile my incapacitated / terminal file. Today, I learned that the best care a person can receive in Dallas is at Children's Medical Center (specifically the ICU area). Holy. Cow. What. A. Place.
As a side note, I'll just warn you now that if I ever go seriously terminal, I am going to buy a carton of Marlboro Reds, and until they are all smoked down, you won't hear two words from me that are not completely enveloped in sweetly scented clouds of Marlboro glory. But that, ladies and gents is another story, and hardly the actual point of this post.
Today I had the privilege of hanging out with some dear friends at Children's. It started out scary - their little girl, baby Rachel, a barely one year old Down Syndrome child was in for the second major surgery (the first being open heart surgery) of her young life. This kid is one of the sweetest and cutest little things you ever did see. It broke all of our hearts to think that she would have to endure this operation. It's very complicated, but the bottom line is that her "airway was compromised." Supposedly this was a birth defect, and the surgery included a graft of cartilage from one of her ribs in to her trachea. Mind you, this is a baby we are talking about.
When I got to the hospital, I encountered baby Rachel's parents nervously awaiting the moment when Rachel would be taken from them and into surgery. When the nurse came, we still had enough time to hold hands and pray. For some reason, I was able to completely connect with the fear and anxiety in the room. How completely difficult it would be for Lee Ann (Rachel's mom) to once again surrender her child to others who could hopefully do something good for her in the operating room. It was overwhelming.
Good news came an hour later. The graft would not be necessary, at least not now. A cyst had developed that needed to be removed. Once that was gone, Rachel would have a really good chance of basically growing out of this. No defect. No further surgery. A hope for a somewhat normal breathing life. What a relief.
Rachel will need to stay in ICU for a night just to be sure, but it seems that she is going to be OK. I can only barely imagine the relief that Jim and Lee Ann must be feeling tonight. I'm so thankful for a chance to hold the hands of dear friends when the control is clearly gone and the comfort we can give to each other has to be enough for now.
I guess that's just one more reminder of how fragile it all really is, and how important we can and should be to one another.
Have a terrific weekend.
As a side note, I'll just warn you now that if I ever go seriously terminal, I am going to buy a carton of Marlboro Reds, and until they are all smoked down, you won't hear two words from me that are not completely enveloped in sweetly scented clouds of Marlboro glory. But that, ladies and gents is another story, and hardly the actual point of this post.
Today I had the privilege of hanging out with some dear friends at Children's. It started out scary - their little girl, baby Rachel, a barely one year old Down Syndrome child was in for the second major surgery (the first being open heart surgery) of her young life. This kid is one of the sweetest and cutest little things you ever did see. It broke all of our hearts to think that she would have to endure this operation. It's very complicated, but the bottom line is that her "airway was compromised." Supposedly this was a birth defect, and the surgery included a graft of cartilage from one of her ribs in to her trachea. Mind you, this is a baby we are talking about.
When I got to the hospital, I encountered baby Rachel's parents nervously awaiting the moment when Rachel would be taken from them and into surgery. When the nurse came, we still had enough time to hold hands and pray. For some reason, I was able to completely connect with the fear and anxiety in the room. How completely difficult it would be for Lee Ann (Rachel's mom) to once again surrender her child to others who could hopefully do something good for her in the operating room. It was overwhelming.
Good news came an hour later. The graft would not be necessary, at least not now. A cyst had developed that needed to be removed. Once that was gone, Rachel would have a really good chance of basically growing out of this. No defect. No further surgery. A hope for a somewhat normal breathing life. What a relief.
Rachel will need to stay in ICU for a night just to be sure, but it seems that she is going to be OK. I can only barely imagine the relief that Jim and Lee Ann must be feeling tonight. I'm so thankful for a chance to hold the hands of dear friends when the control is clearly gone and the comfort we can give to each other has to be enough for now.
I guess that's just one more reminder of how fragile it all really is, and how important we can and should be to one another.
Have a terrific weekend.
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