Had Enough of Campaign 2008?

As a wise old Zen master once noted, there's not much left to do at this point but have a good laugh. Enjoy!

Friday Potpourri!

I always liked this category on Jeopardy! too: Potpourri!


1) Your work day is done and the brain is fried, what do you do?
Go to the gym and watch The Barefoot Contessa as I'm pounding away on the treadmill. (Ironic, wot?)

2) Your work week is done and the brain is fried (for some Friday, others Sunday afternoon), what do you do?
Go home and try to enjoy some mindless TV and enjoyable magazine reading (yes, I multitask my recreation)...but find myself falling asleep on the sofa.

3) Like most of us, I often keep myself busy even while programs are on the TV. (Yipes. RevGal read my mind.) I stop to watch "The Office" and "30 Rock" on Thursday nights. Do you have 'stop everything' tv programming or books or events or projects that are totally 'for you' moments?
You know, I even multitask while watching my heroine, Rachel Maddow. But -- when I garden, or when I'm grocery shopping at the food coop, I'm "in the zone."

4) When was the last time you laughed, really laughed? What was so funny?
At our house we really laugh quite a lot of the time, usually while we're snarkitizing television programs or while we're in the car. It doesn't take much.

5) What is a fairly common item that some people are willing to go cheap on, but you are not?
Food. We will cut back on other things to avoid eating cheap/processed/hormonally enhanced/genetically altered/chemically tinkered-with crap.

Bonus: When was the last time you gave until it felt good?
I am feeling gratified about getting my congregation hooked up with a needy local family through our county social service agency, and actually seeing people get excited about helping these folks. And I of course get geeked on anonymously fulfilling Christmas wish lists. Love it. And Fellow Traveler is getting a similar lift getting our Sunday School kids involved in sending Christmas greetings to troops overseas and disabled veterans.

The Return of the Lord Protector

Quick -- name a frowny-faced, high-eyebrowed fanatic intent on purging society of all that does not fit his crabbed, puritanical worldview.
No...not him...I mean Richard Dawkins.

Now he's angry at fantasy. He says it encourages an anti-scientific worldview.

The moral of this story: If you scratch a militant atheist deeply enough, you find a militant fundamentalist.

New York, New York!

We're going there for Thanksgiving!

After a momentary panic about lodging -- a task we'd delegated to a hotel-industry in-law whose employee discount wasn't enough to pull a room down into our price range -- we got online and found an affordable "boutique" hotel right in the theater district. We are actually going to be lodging closer to the Macy's parade setup than our kids who are working the parade. We are near museums we want to visit. And as women who, like Napoleon's army, travel on our stomachs, we were also delighted to find some modestly priced eateries of interest within the immediate neighborhood of our digs, including Chinese and Indian restaurants with appealing menus and Zip Burger, which I've heard good things about already.

Did I tell you that we're going TO NEW YORK? FOR THANKSGIVING?

Booyah!

So -- in between the balloons and Rockettes and all that jazz -- do any Constant Readers have tips for fun places to visit, and good-and-cheap places to eat?

Buns (and Back) of Steel

Well, it's been about a month or so since we worked out a barter deal with the local gym -- we manage their website in exchange for memberships.

Despite interruptions due to various illnesses and distractions, FT and I have managed to work out at least three or four or five times a week. I am walking and/or cycling for 15-20 minutes per visit; I'm sticking to a goal of two miles total, but have been tinkering with the resistance controls to change things up. In addition, I've been doing some weightlifting: a series of core fitness machines every workout, plus alternating shoulder and back exercises.

Good news: I am slowly losing my Michelin Woman profile. And my back, especially my upper back, feels 100 percent stronger; no more toothache-level neck and back pain. Bad news: I've now become Brick House Covered in Flubber. But it's progress nonetheless.

We were even talking about branching out into Wii yoga at our house. (Alas, our gym does not offer such classes.)

Whodathunkit.

Now, if I could only extend my newfound personal discipline to my prayer life. Sigh.

Simul Iustus Et Peccator

Fellow Traveler and I are standing in our narthex this past Sunday, at a register where we have been invited to list the names of the departed saints in our own lives, for reading aloud during the Sundays in November.

FT has listed some names, including those of my parents. (No jokes about my character issues earning them sainthood.) Now it's my turn.

Then I add a few more: My maternal grandparents. My friends Bill and Rozie, from my sojourn up north.

Later on that day the thought occurs to me that I had cherrypicked through my mental inventory of the dead, leaving out family members who'd been less than stellar examples of ideal Christian behavior; who'd been physically and emotionally abusive to spouses, children and other family members; who'd been rabid bigots; who'd done some bad stuff to other people in the course of their time on this mortal coil.

Who do I think I am, sorting saints from sinners? Isn't that exactly the same thing I criticize in holier-than-thou hyper-Christians? How are the people on my "bad" list any worse than I am, at my worst? How are the people on my "good" list any better? And how would I know, anyway? Who am I to presume to plumb the depths of people's hearts and souls and motivations?

Maybe that Romans Bible study is working.

Ignernt an' Proud of It, Part Deux

Christopher Hitchens neatly nails the arrogant ignorance of Sarah Palin and the Christianista wing of the GOP here . Best quote:

Those who despise science and learning are not anti-elitist. They are morally and intellectually slothful people who are secretly envious of the educated and the cultured.

I remember, in the comments section of a blog I frequently read, one of the Christianista respondents whining about he and his fellows in the amen choir being portrayed as "ignorant." Well, as Forest Gump's mama pointed out, stupid is as stupid does.

Ignernt an' Proud of It

A snapshot of race relations in rural America.

Sounds like the diner-counter conversations in Outer Podunk, sadly.

What in hell is wrong with people?

Whither Reformation Sunday?

I'm standing in church today, singing "A Mighty Fortress" with the customary gusto of one who's grown up in the bosom of Michigan's Lutherland. I mean, it's Reformation Sunday. Our day. The one day in the year when a people accustomed to dwelling far in the background of both popular culture and American Christian culture can represent; can celebrate our contributions to the greater Church.

But I notice that no one else around me is singing with any energy. I'm reminded of my college days, when I'd sometimes accompany my Roman Catholic friend to Mass and marvel at the huge, standing-room-only congregation's anemic singing.

Come ON, people, I think. It's Reformation Freaking Sunday! Whatsamatter with you?

I wonder if this is to a certain extent a function of attracting more members without a Lutheran background, who have neither the informational grounding nor the exposure to Lutheran culture to really understand why this Sunday is special. Or perhaps it's because there's less tension between Lutheranism and Roman Catholicism these days, when more often than not both our traditions find ourselves in solidarity over and against fundagelical American Christian culture, and the serious differences that do remain between our traditions tend to be treated with the same forbearance exercised around a holiday dinner table on behalf of more difficult members of one's family: Uncle Joe really is a decent guy...just don't get him going on religion.

Who knows. And I know that party spirit, and the divided Body it encourages, is one of those things cautioned against in Scripture.

But I still miss old-school Reformation Sunday.

Making an Impression

Who knew that I had a way with the young'uns?

Constant readers will recall our Big Adventure earlier in the year with our great-niece. She loves being read to, and specifically loves being read to by yours truly -- whom she refers to as Uddah Edden, as opposed to her Auntie Edden, aka Fellow Traveler. Edden,in case you're wondering, is a small-person's approximation of our shared first name.

Great-niece's Army dad, who re-upped earlier this year, was deployed this month to the Middle East. Her mom reports that, one evening when Great-Niece was being fussy and obstinate about going to bed, she burst out, "If Daddy not here to wead to me, I want Uddah Edden to wead to me! I want to see Uddah Edden and Ariel!" (Ariel is our pondside mermaid.)

Uddah Edden may have to score a copy of Goodnight Moon and make a long-distance call.

LC Goes Contemporary Christian Format

No, no, no, no. It's not what you think. I haven't gone over to the dark side of "Christian radio."

Part of that is aesthetics; I just don't like it. Part of it is political; having listened to Christian talk radio, I'm disinclined to listen to musical programming broadcast on the same stations for the same reason that, if I were Jewish, I wouldn't listen to music on a White Power station. Something about sandals and sand and shaking and moving on.

But I'm hearing more contemporary Christian music than I have for a long time, thanks to the gym, where every so often the patrons switch the station from headbanging classic rock to a local all-music Christian rock station.

My impression is...sounds like any other "hits" station. You've got your jangly, edgy alternative sounding stuff, maybe followed by some rap, maybe followed by a power ballad, maybe followed by...well, you get the idea. And I generally can't discern the lyrics anyway -- it's just a lot of wonk-wonk-wonk -- so whatever spiritual uplift I might derive from these Christian themed songs must be purely on a subliminal level.

On the other hand, while trying to twiddle the dial in FT's Jeep the other day I wound up listening to another local Christian station...at first I thought I'd wandered onto a "light hits" station until I realized that the glurgy "my boyfriend" tribute being warbled by the singer was all about her boyfriend Jesus. Oops.

So my close encounters with contemporary Christian music these days haven't killed me...haven't made me stronger...haven't done much of anything except make me miss traditional choral music more. But not in the gym.

Fascist Flashback

The Thirties are back...in more ways than one:

St. Louis Students Disciplined For "Hit a Jew Day"

Worse than this story is the enabling commentary by adult respondents here and elsewhere online.

What is the matter with people? Be the grownups, for God's sake.

Some of Those "Values Voters" We Keep Hearing About

With a hat tip to Andrew Sullivan ...if you can't get people to vote "Yes" on California's Proposition 8 because they want to, a little Sopranos-style intimidation might do the trick:

"Make a donation of a like amount to ProtectMarriage.com which will help us correct this error. Were you to elect not to donate comparably, it would be a clear indication that you are in opposition to traditional marriage. ... The names of any companies and organizations that choose not to donate in like manner to ProtectMarriage.com but have given to Equality California will be published."

My response would be, "Yeah...so?"

WTF Indeed

Last week I laughed out loud reading Christopher Buckley, freshly fired from the family enterprise at The National Review for his disavowal of the McCain-Palin ticket, musing on the future of the conservative movement in the United States:

"The smart ones in the movement should get together right after the election at the Greenbrier or the Homestead, you know, where they typically have these kinds of get-togethers, and have a long dark night of the soul," he says. "And I'll tell you what the conference should be called: Conservatism--What the Fuck?"

(Just a personal note that I, back in the days when I had abundant free time to read lots more magazines than I do now, read The National Review even though I agreed with very little in it, simply because I enjoyed William F. Buckley's wit and intelligence...two commodities no longer much in evidence on that side of the ideological divide.)

Well -- Rod Dreher, like many other pundits, quoted Buckley the Younger's suggestion in his own blog (albeit with the bad word bowlderized for the sake of sensitive Moral Majority types), and asked for reader feedback on what topics such a conference of conservatism might include.

The responses, on this post and his related posts, include some real humor...some insight...but, geez Louise, there are some squirrely conservatives out there. I can't believe the respondents who spoke approvingly of Putin's Russia as a model of an emerging socially conservative state.

WTF indeed.

A Moveable Friday Five

There are places I'll remember
all my life, though some have changed
some forever, not for better,
some are lost, and some remain... -- The Beatles

RevGalBlogPals' Singing Owl is anticipating having her adult child and family moving in with Mom and Dad. So moving is on her mind:

This post is about locations. My husband has lived at 64 addresses in his life so far (16 with me) and he suggested the topic since we have moving trucks on our minds.

Therefore, tell us about the five favorite places you have lived in your lifetime. What did you like? What kind of place was it? Anything special happen there?


If you have lived in less than five places, you can tell us about fantasy location.

I responded, on that blog, that I didn't think I had five favorite locations. But I'll share what I have:

1. My childhood home. I grew up in a hip-roofed stone farmhouse, on the family farm. I loved our house, especially the front porch; I even loved the quirks, like the cavernous crawlspace under the attic stairs and our mysterious kitchen "door to nowhere." (The grandparents had originally wanted to build an outside stairway, but for whatever reason that never happened.) I also loved the farm in its entirety -- the barn, the outbuildings, the pastures and fields. I spent a large chunk of my childhood simply wandering our property, observing nature and thinking my thoughts.

My senior-year dorm. Unlike many of my fellows, I lived on campus all four years of college; maybe because I enjoyed living in the oldest extant residential section on campus. The buildings had a palpable history; they were pretty, inside and out; they were cozy, quirky places to live, unlike the spartan Soviet-style newer dormatories; and residents took pride in place. My senior year -- thanks to my pulling an all-nighter in line to win the privilege of dwelling there -- I lived in an "alternative" residence hall, among these old grand dames of student housing, that had been retrofitted to accomodate communal kitchens on each floor, in lieu of a common cafeteria. This dorm tended to attract not only students looking for cheaper digs, but what we'd now call "crunchies" -- neo-hippies and other noncomformists who tended to be vegetarians or whole-foods aficionados. I hated my roommate that year (she was definitely not "crunchy"), but I loved my floormates, and my surrounds. If you're ever visiting Michigan State University and happen to pass Williams Hall -- give it a cheery wave, from a grateful Class of '83 happy camper.

3. Cadillac, Michigan. I can't say much about my rental accomodations...but for the most part I enjoyed living in the community of Cadillac -- which, sadly, is often treated as a convenient pit stop by vacationers speeding up to more glamorous resort areas in the northwestern Lower Peninsula of Michigan. Cadillac has a wonderful city park system that includes everything from lakeside walking trails to wooded picnic areas to a band shell to the city Sound Garden where you can get your rhythm on via all manner of permanent installations. It has a good, utilitarian business district that includes convenient big-box stores, a few interesting boutiquey places and visit-worthy restaurants of all price ranges. They have a very nice summer music series at the city band shell -- lots of jazz -- and a well-regarded First Night celebration New Year's Eve.

4. Cold Comfort Cottage. My neverending home maintenance woes aside...one of my favorite things is sitting on the front porch, or in the wintertime watching the birds from the dining room windows. It's generally quiet and peaceful, the surrounding woods creating a welcome buffer from the rest of the world.

5. The Big House. I am learning to love the trees surrounding The Big House, although the woods isn't as accessible as that around CCC -- the ground is so uneven that you're constantly having to anchor yourself against a tree to keep from pitching forward into a humus-y divot...which isn't advisable considering the poison ivy that infests much of the wooded part of the property. (We are considering having our landscaping friend make a winding path through the trees for us, that we can cover with wood chips and keep cleared.) But the more I wander around the more things I notice, like a large, exciting (to me) colony of ferns that I can't identify. I am increasingly interested in improving the aesthetics of our backyard pond, which I love to walk around because it reminds me of my childhood exploring the marshes and ditches of the farm, and in getting some of the local birds to visit our bird feeding stations. I enjoy our patio. I absolutely love our front room, a small, bright room filled with antique furniture and memorabilia; if we have a "no electronic media" evening we like to sit in here. I like our dining room. I love the artwork that The Kids have given us, and our own contributions in the past three years.

Hmmm. I guess I do have five favorite places.

Bonus: My fantasy living location is in a vintage -- 30's or 40's era -- cottage, not necessarily in this state. Over on my food blog someone pointed me to her blog, all about life in her 40's-era log cabin, and it inspired me; ditto my cousin-in-laws' equally cute, cozy inherited weekend hideway up near Traverse City. I think dismantling these examples of Upper Midwest Americana in favor of the conspicuously consumptive, McSame McMansions now infesting our lake areas (wonder what's going to happen to them now, in the wake of the economic downturn?) was a mistake, and a loss.

Butcher? Baker? Candlestick Maker?

As Constant Readers know, I have been contemplating making a career change. Yes, I know; the cusp of a Great Depression is not such a great time to be doing this. Timing's never been my strong point. But you know the old saying (possibly apocryphal) that the Chinese symbol for "danger" also connotes "opportunity."

Anyway: As we've been discussing this in our household, one of the criteria I've been using as I decide what to do when I grow up is job portability in a rural setting. As geeked as we are about our upcoming trip to The Big Apple -- we're not moving there, or another big city. Ever. We like living in the country, even though thanks to a certain notorious Vice-Presidential candidate we now labor under even more of a burden of perceived hickdom than we had before.

But what do you do to make money in mid- or up-north Michigan? I mean -- we don't even have a Mall Wart within 30 miles in any direction for chump-change employment. (Not that I'd work there.) No matter how many crunches and suspended kneeups I'm capable of in the gym these days, I'm past the age where full-time manual labor is a viable option.

Here are some of the ideas that have been bouncing around in my mind, as far as continuing my education.

Webmaster/web designer. This bland and badly maintained blog notwithstanding, I actually have some street cred here in terms of creating written content; and the techie stuff I can learn. Fellow Traveler was once told by a vocational counselor at the VA that the webmaster market is saturated, but this has absolutely not been our experience here in the toolies -- businesses and organizations want and need people to set up and maintain their websites, especially to reach younger consumers who reach for Google, not the local phone book or newspaper, for information on products and services. We already barter our webmeistering services for our gym membership; who knows what other ways we can use this skill for the benefit of our household?

Personal property appraiser. Both FT and I are interested in certain types of collectibles, and we've talked about someday leveraging our interest into a part-time garage-office business. The sticking point with this area of expertise is training and credentialing; there are apparently no schools in Michigan that offer any sort of coursework in this field. The schools that do are out-of-state and generally lacking in a distance-education option. And laws regarding professional credentials very from state to state. But we think that, as our society faces a major economic upheaval, people are going to regain an interest in investing in tangibles...at very least, the potential for return on investment is better than hoarding one's cash in a crawlspace or under a barn floor. So if I can find a distance-learning option for this field, plus ingratiate myself with any local experts willing to take a newbie under their wings, this might be worth pursuing. Plus, it's fun, and educational; it's amazing what you learn about history, design and decorative arts.

Medical biller. Fellow Traveler has had some experience in this, and she says that it's a perfect, portable skill for someone whose identity isn't fully invested in his or her job. You take a stack of medical records; you input the information, in coded form, on the 'puter; you go home, or close the home office door behind you, when you're done; and life is good. Our local community college offers a fast-track course in medical billing.

Anyone else have any good ideas for short-term vocational training leading to a second-income job that has some legs in a changing economy and in a non-urban environment?

One of Those Days When I Wish I Were Buddhist

With a hat tip to Andrew Sullivan :

McCain-Palin Ticket Plagued By Obama Witchcraft!

Can I tell you how sick I am of fascist, racist, fence-post stupid, superstitious, ridiculous Christianista wack jobs?

Dear God in heaven, save us from this freak show of decompensating religious rightists.

Elf

On Sunday, at church, I also launched our Project Christmas campaign, to assist a needy area family referred by the county Department of Human Services office. (The countywide Christmas Project gets its list of needy households not only from social-services rolls but also from referrals by concerned friends and neighbors, other helping professionals, and self-referrals.)

I actually took on the task of choosing a family, out of two ring binders full of referrals. It was a sobering experience, holding all this need in my hands, turning the pages and trying to decide which family to select on behalf of the congregation. ("And this is still early in the season," remarked the coordinator. "You should see it in another month.") The family I chose -- mom on disability, two kids -- listed "FOOD" multiple times on its holiday wish list. The mom, in the space reserved for her own wishes, remarked, "I don't want nothing special."

This is one of those undertakings that I've always wondered why we haven't tackled as a congregation. And the answer seems to be because noone's thought of it before. We tend to be very inward-turned; maybe because many of our own families are struggling with illness and financial difficulty. And because our church is in a remote corner of our county, far from the county seat or indeed any population center, folks don't always seem to know whom they belong to as far as community resources. Someone from church recently told me she was very surprised to learn that our county transit service operates in the area: "Who knew?"

The Evangelism Committee -- which consists of Fellow Traveler, another person and myself, decided to spearhead the adoption of a Project Christmas family, because the Gospel "good news" isn't just a spiritual construct -- it's also loving by doing. That's how we see it, anyway.

And the good news about our good news is that it seems to be exciting people in our congregation...which is especially good news in these tough economic times. I was just asked, via e-mail, by a church member if our Project Christmas family needed help with a Thanksgiving meal as well.

It's a good thing.

When in Romans...

On Sunday, as I mentioned, I found myself tasked with leading the second installment of our congregation's Sunday morning Bible study on the Epistle to the Romans.

Looking around at the dozen or so expectant faces around me, I realized I'd forgotten how hard it is to teach a class...on anything. And I realized that we were heading into the territory, in Romans 1, of the dreaded "clobber verses." Oy gevult.

So being the expert procrastinator that I am...I changed the subject.

I started off with a review of what I've always thought was the brilliant advice I've received from more than a few instructors over the years regarding how to responsibly and mindfully engage Scripture: What does this say? What does this mean? What does this mean for me/for us as a faith community now? I talked about how, as Lutheran Christians, we honor all these questions; I talked about how, historically, whenever Christians focus exclusively on one of these questions to the exclusion of the others, they get themselves and others into trouble.

Then I launched into a Cliff Notes review of the historical and cultural contexts of Paul's letter -- the conflicts between Rome's Jewish community and new Christian believers, the conflicts between Jewish Christian converts and pagan Christian converts; Paul's tackling these and the larger theological issue of soteriology from a distance.

When we finally got around to reading from the text, we found ourselves at Paul's thesis statement about justification by grace. That was good for another quarter-hour discussion about why this is the linchpin of Paul's theology. And then we had to stop, so we could get ready for the worship service.

Like I said...when it comes to putting off difficult things, I am an expert.

The Silence of the Bees

On Saturday, Fellow Traveler and I went to the farm of our "lamb lady," just north of Midland, for her local growers' open house. She and her husband raise Icelandic sheep and Icelandic sheepdogs, grow lavender, and conduct a mail-order wool business; in addition to their farm goods being available for sale, they invited other farmers who do business directly with the public to set up booths on their property.

We crunchy-granola foodies were in hog heaven, so to speak. We had a great time.

But there was a sad and troubling note during our visit. Our hostess, while taking us out into the field to admire her sheep, told us that she'd had to abandon plans to market her new sideline of lavender honey -- something she'd been very excited about offering customers this fall. Her hives had been doing fine all summer...but when the beekeeper came around a few weeks ago to check on the progress of the honey, he discovered that most of the worker bees, and the honey, had simply vanished into thin air; there was not enough honey in the hives to sustain the few insects that remained over the winter.

This strange phenomenon has a name: colony collapse disorder. No one knows why it's happening -- some have suggested a new disease, or pesticides, or even widespread cell phone and other wireless usage disrupting the magnetic field -- but CCD is happening across the globe. If you Google that phrase you'll find some very sobering information about how the disappearance of bees, whose pollinating work is necessary to support all manner of agriculture, is threatening our food supply.

I thought about that on Sunday afternoon when, just to get my ailing but stir-crazy partner out of the house, we went hunting for "road apples" through the farmlands of our county. In past years I've been able to collect lots of wild apples from roadside trees. This year we found hardly any. This may be due to several factors, including other human foragers clued into the possibility of free food for themselves or for their critters...but I wonder if a diminished number of bees also impacted the amount of fruit on the trees.

This makes me incredibly sad. I'm reminded of the old Chinese curse: May you live in interesting times.