Looking Ahead

My childhood was blessed in many directions. One memorable area of blessing was in family vacations. A few stand out.

Around the age of six my parents took us to California to visit some cousins and to see Disneyland. A few years later we visited Colorado and traveled the mountains to Ouray and Durango. Lastly, my junior year in college we took a trip to Washington DC. In between these larger trips we traveled on more regional excursions to various places in Texas and Arkansas.
And so we try to pass that blessing on to our own kids, hoping that they will enjoy well the full range of God’s Creation…or at least the part we can affordably reach. We’ve taken them on large trips to Colorado, Virginia, and Turkey and look forward to future trips.

This year we decided on a ski trip to New Mexico and made a couple of decisions that affected the trip. First, we decided to extend the kids’ Christmas vacation and to cut into their return to school. So we planned to ski the Saturday, Sunday, Monday of the weekend preceding the beginning of school. Although this cut into their return a bit, it guarantees fewer skiers. Despite my affinity for education, school attendance isn’t sacrosanct. This also allowed us to take our time getting out there. Since none of our kids have ever seen snow in any accumulation, we wanted to give them a chance to enjoy it before they skied it.

Our second decision was to go with another couple from church. Like me, Rob works for the state (although not at my institution) and Laura is a nurse like Kadie. They also have a little boy who is a couple of months older than Squealer as well as a two year old daughter. Frankly, they are among the few couples who could identify with the typical normal state of chaos surrounding our family. Our decision to travel with them cut our costs substantially.

Rob is an organizer and handled the lodging logistics throughout our trip. I, to put it mildly, am not. I did cook all the meals ahead of time so we wouldn’t get gouged by the locals. We rented a 15 passenger van and stuffed the nine members of our families into it.

We threw Squealer into ski school for 2 days and the girls for one. And they all took to it well. Kadie and I skipped ski school, but spent a day anyway remembering how to ski. It took two of full days for us to regain our skiing “skills,” which had lain dormant for twenty winters.

The second day we took the girls out and were amazed at how quickly they picked it up. Scooter took a few more chances and thus bit the dust snow more often. Skeeter, normally the risk taker of the two, was slow and steady and rarely fell down.

The third day we took Squealer out and worked with him. They teach the kids to either keep their skis in a “pizza” (a wedge) to slow down or to keep them “French fries” (parallel) to speed up. (I’m unsure what this says about the contemporary dietary status of most Americans that five year olds understand this language universally). But the effect is humorous.

As Squealer scooted down the slope, I followed behind him and constantly yelled “Pizza!” or “French Fries!” depending on his rate of speed. To an outsider it must’ve seemed like I was threatening him with a high-carb diet. Squealer invariably accelerated beyond his capacity to control his direction and I would have to shout at him to “Sit Down!!”which resulted in several spectacular crashes.

Squealer rarely does things halfway. He took to skiing quickly, but when he crashed, he did so with gusto. In one particularly tremendous show, he disappeared into a cloud of snow and pinwheeling skis as he lay motionless for a moment. Then he looked up at me and shouted “That was AWESOME!!” to the delight of the assembled skiers.

On the third day all five of us skied some blue slopes, definitely Squealer’s favorite. But still, it’s a sobering vision to see your five year old scooting past you at breakneck speed.

But the most beautiful memory of the trip was on a long green slope where the five of us were skiing by ourselves. Soon after we started, there began a gentle, but substantial snowfall. Flakes as large as nickels danced around us as we skied along our solitary path, looking at gorgeous evergreens graced with snow.

After a few minutes taking in this breathless beauty, Scooter stopped us and said “Daddy, it’s just like we’re inside a snowglobe!”

Looking ahead, I hope we’ve burned some family memories into their childhood.

I have a few pictures to inflict on you.







There’s nothing quite so strong as the bond between a boy and his tumbleweed. (Squealer at a rest area in the Texas panhandle).















Dalhart, Texas takes great pride in a large tile encrusted bovine that stands guard over highway 87 in front of a Valero gas station. When our kids saw it, Scooter immediately christened it Starbutt.
(I wonder if it's visible on Google Maps? Yep!)





Scooter (left) took some incredible pictures .

Family Road Trip!

We’re on the road with the family, doing some skiing in Angel Fire, New Mexico--our first extended vacation in about four years. After several days on the road, we arrived this afternoon and checked into our condo. We’re sharing space with a couple from our church who has a son Squealer’s age and they’ve booth kept the trip hopping.

The kids have never been skiing before, indeed they’ve seen snow only a few times. So we arrived in northern New Mexico yesterday so that they could play in the snow. After a day of that, we were all ready to arrive this afternoon.

We’re throwing all three of our kids into ski school tomorrow while Kadie and I try to relearn skiing ourselves. The only skiing we’ve ever done was almost twenty years ago on a BSU trip while we were still courting.

It should be interesting.

San Diego

I’ve undergone radio silence for the last few days, recovering from an onslaught of tryptophan…Last Friday through Tuesday I spent in San Diego at the national Society of Biblical Literature meeting. As always I found the trip delightfully engaging, stimulating and at times frustrating.

San Diego is a beautiful city (I shudder to think how amazing it is in the summer!). Our hotel was excellent and located right downtown. The convention center was a short walk away and located near a beautiful marina. We also made a quick trip to Coronado Island, which a local pastor refereed to as “Leave it to Beaver land”. The village is quaint and picturesque, which led one of my colleagues to refer to it as Stepford. I would’ve blogged some from the city, but was too cheap to spring for the $10.00 a day internet.

The annual meeting consists of a series of seminars on a veritable blizzard of topics in the fields of one of two religious organizations: the American Academy of Religion (AAR) and the Society of Biblical Literature (SBL). They are divided along disciplinary lines with the SBL consisting of papers in the fields of Old and New testaments, generally (though not exclusively) consisting of Jewish and Christian scholars. (See here for a look at some of the paper topics.) The AAR consists of everything else, a wide plethora of including other religions (Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism) and non-Biblical Studies fields (Church history, theology, etc.)

Participants at the SBL/AAR come in all different shapes and sizes. As you would expect, there are numerous Christians and non-Christians who participate representing state schools, Christian colleges, seminaries, Jewish seminaries, and churches.

Highlights:

Hearing N. T. Wright. Wright is the Anglican bishop of Durham who may be the foremost New Testament scholar of this day. I heard him give a lecture on the role of God in public discourse that was remarkable. As someone who has to deal with a multicultural context even more than we Americans do, it was impressive to hear him speak so passionately about the role of the church in public society. I think that his best line was that “tolerance is a low grade parody of agape love.” He argued that although contemporary culture holds up tolerance as the greatest goal, we need to press beyond tolerance to friendship, then phileo, then agape.

So what is the church’s role? Our role is to speak out as witnesses to society. That might entail martyrdom or other lesser stances. I think that in the evangelical community we have far too often been co-opted by power and snuggled up to governmental leaders for too long. Outstanding stuff.

I also attended several seminars but my favorite was one sponsored by the National Association of Baptist Professors of Religion which looked at the thorny issue of the divine conquests narratives of Joshua (and others) in which Yahweh commands the community of faith to wipe out the enemies of God. The session focused on how to raise that particular issue with students. It was a difficult topic and some of the proposed solutions were, quite frankly, disturbing in their treatment of the biblical narrative.

Another session was on the relationship between film and theology, an important and interesting topic. I think the best speaker was S. Brent Plate from TCU who argued that film makers are engaged in creating a world just as much as religion is. He mentioned two things in particular: trailers and movie studio logos. Trailers oftentimes open with the phrase “In a world…” (as this article notes) while the logos of movie production studios often depict the logo coming down from “heaven.”

Lastly, and most importantly is the opportunity to connect with friends, old a new. This particular trip was enlivened by my great friend Bobby who drove down from Los Angeles to immerse himself in this alien religious subculture. I also spent time with several friends with whom I studied at Baylor. One of the high points of my stay was the dinner with my doctoral studies mentor, who goes out to eat with his former students every year. It is a great opportunity to reconnect.

With these friends we fight as much as we catch up. Each of us are passionate about our faith of course, but also with our fields. So we spend much time arguing and laughing and even some time crying. It was a marvelous, joyous time.

Camping Trip 2

Some pictures from our trip.

On the way up, we went horseback riding. Here Skeeter meets a two week old foal.

During our trail ride, we crossed several streams, which was very fun for the kids (and the adults).

Petit Jean offers some impressive vistas.

Here Kadie helps Squealer along one of the more challenging hiking trails.

At the end of a long hiking trail, the kids found a wonderful cave (complete with Indian pictographs).

I did mention that it rained, right? Here is what may turn out to be one of my favorite pictures of Squealer. It is raining outside and he has to stay in the tent. His whole little body has a resigned expression as he sadly watches the rain fall.

Alas, no pictures of Ranger Rick!

Camping Trip

We returned from our vacation intact and had a great time camping. Although my family and I went camping periodically growing up, I had not been on more than a one night campout in decades. Fortunately we went with four seasoned veterans.

We camped out with a couple (Jim and Sandra) from our Sunday School class whom we are just getting to know. They have two daughters around the same ages as ours and the four girls have already become best friends.

Jim owns a restoration company (they come in after floods, fires, etc. and work with the insurance companies to rebuild homes and businesses). He drove up to Petit Jean in a huge black Dodge Ram pickup. I took the White Goose with the ailing transmission. It has 187,000 miles on it, but with a rebuilt engine at 165,000. So we’re just now wondering when the transmission will blow. Not the best vehicle to take into the mountains, but somehow it held together.

Driving around the park, we took Jim’s behemoth truck and threw the kids in the bed while the adults rode in the front cab. Since the drive from our campsite to the hiking trails was a mile and a half over empty park roads we didn’t think twice about this.

But “Ranger Rick” did. After we stopped, Ranger Rick approached us and said that anyone under fifteen had to ride in the cab but that the adults could ride in the bed. He then said “I imagine that even [here he mentioned our home state] has similar laws to Arkansas and you should keep in mind that we enforce those laws in a State Park.”

His condescension was palpable and I almost responded that “Well, given my state’s history of governmental corruption, it’s also th3e case that $50.00 will keep a Park Ranger from hassling you for three days. Is that also the case in Arkansas?”

But my basic respect for the law and my even more basic desire not to be beaten in front of my children kept my darker emotions in check.

Plus that’s what blogs are for.


Some random thoughts on camping…


Bug repellant keeps away bugs, but not (alas) children.

I’m told that they emit all kinds of poisonous gasses, but burning Styrofoam plates and plastic water bottles is fun.

Loud early morning geese have no snooze button.

No one can out-pester a four year old. No one.

Every male, irrespective of age, at some base level, is a pyromaniac.

A new tent never goes back into its original box.

Campfire Smores are the finest dessert I have ever tasted.

At home we don’t let Squealer carry a dull table knife, but on vacation we do take him on a semi-perilous hike through rugged terrain.

When it is raining on a camp-out, there’s simply not much to do.

My opposition to infanticide decreases marginally in direct proportion to the number of times I hear the question “When are we going to be there?”

I’ll post some pictures over the weekend.

Late Night (II)

A month before my trip, I went on Dave’s site and filled out a form for tickets. Several days before my trip, I received a call from the Letterman show. They asked me a question about the show (“What is the name of Rupert Gee’s store?” The answer “The Hello Deli”). After answering it correctly they told me to come by the show between 3:00 and 3:30 on Wednesday, February 14th. (Sadly, she repeated the question “Just one ticket on Valentine’s Day??”). After arriving there, I waited in line and received instructions on how to cheer (Rule #4: No Booing) and then left again. They told us to gather at a building across the street from the Ed Sullivan Theater (around 4:00) and to wait there. The building was a dump, but the 400 or so of us were in a pleasant mood. They lined us up into four groups of 100 and marched us across the street and into the Ed Sullivan building as the taping began.

I ended up on the third row with an aisle seat. Before the show began, the band played a lot of numbers to generate a great deal of noise and get the crowd warmed up. Then out came a comic who got us laughing by telling jokes he’s probably told a million times or more.

Letterman then came out (sprinted out, actually) and took two questions from the audience. One question was “Why don’t you wear wrestling sneakers?” After numerous questions of his own (Who are you? where are you from?) Letterman finally replied “I’ve been on television for twenty-five years and I haven’t worn them for the last twenty-three.” A second questioner asked him when he would make a sequel to Cabin Boy he said “Probably about the same time I start wearing wrestling sneakers again.” He made some sly references to these questions throughout the show…with people at home presumably having no idea what he was talking about.

I was pleased that he had a juvenile Central Park squirrel joke and he then had some Valentine’s Day cards that were mildly humorous. His Top Ten list was things you don’t want to hear on Valentine’s Day. My favorite was “Honey, I got us two tickets to Norbit.”

The guests I could take or leave. Martha Stewart was there (showing how to make a flower mobile that hangs from the ceiling) and an X-rated ventriloquist that was spectacularly unfunny. (Following his performance Dave said “This show feels a little smutty tonight.” To which Paul Schafer said “What do you mean tonight?”

In fact, the night would’ve been average at best, were it not for the musical guest Norah Jones. The night belonged to her. Her performance was simply dazzling. She is so slight, but her smoky voice filled the entire theater and the place was absolutely silent as she performed.

Absolutely mesmerizing.

Then the show ended with a lot of music and a final thanks from Letterman who ended the show by taking off his blazer and tossing it across the stage, where a CBS page dutifully picked it up.

I enjoyed the experience a lot. The theater is much smaller than I expected. They don't let you take any pictures inside, and there was so little time spent in the building that I didn't get a real sense of the history of the place. The show was shot in order, including commercial breaks. I watched it when I got to my hotel room and there was very little editing.

All in all, a great afternoon diversion.

Museums

While in NYC, I spent two afternoons in museums. I spent one in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and one in the American Museum of History Natural. The art museum was by far the better of the two. I saw great works like the Death of Socrates and works by Titian, Rembrandt, and Picasso. The sculptures were fascinating. The attention to detail in, for example, the muscles of this foot were amazing (The foot was about a size 32. Shaq would be jealous).





There were art students everywhere. A few summers ago I read a book on Michelangelo that described his work on the Sistine chapel. As soon as Michelangelo finished the chapel, art students began arriving and, setting up their palates and copying his works. It is interesting that hundreds of years later, students continue to do the same. Here a student is copying a work by Titian.


Given his tremendous ego, it is likely that Titan foresaw that centuries later, a student would paint his works. It is less certain, that he foresaw the student would be wearing a Yankees' rugby shirt.


All in all, it was a remarkable time.


The American Museum of Natural History?

Not so much.

Most of the information is presented via the medium of the diorama. I don’t recall ever articulating the thought in this way before, but I’ve decided that my interest in dioramas peaked around the age of twelve and has rapidly fallen off.

Since 95% of the collection is explored through this manner, my stay in the museum was short. Two things I loved: a section on meteorites, including the largest meteorite currently in captivity, and a full scale model of a blue whale.

By far the best thing to come out of my visit to this museum occurred after I returned home. I took the kids to see A Night at the Museum and they were awestruck that I had visited that same place.

It really helped my street cred with them, and I need all the help I can get.

The Big (and Small) Apple

(Over the next few days, I'll share some pictures I took during my stay.)

After my shock at the courtesy of the bellman, I checked into my hotel and through myself on my bed in exhaustion. But I didn't fly here to rest, so I had to go for a walk.

I’m struck by the simplicity of the streets. It is almost like the earliest city planners knew that tourists would flock to this place one day. The street numbers start at the bottom of the island(i.e. south) and get bigger as they go “up” (head north). The Avenue numbers run north south and get bigger as you move from left (west) to right (east).

Uptown is north of downtown (a simple concept that I didn’t know originated here). So if you hop on a subway headed downtown you will go south. So as long as I knew that my hotel was on 53rd street and 7th avenue, I could tell how many blocks I was from “home base.”

One thing that struck me immediately was not only how big Manhattan is (I assumed that) but rather how small it is. What I mean is since real estate is so expensive here, and so many people are so crowded into this area, that everything from restaurants to hotel rooms, to parking lots seem diminutive.

Here’s an example of a parking lot that has to deal with the reality of squeezing numerous cars into a small lot. There are lifts which allow cars to be parked on top of one another.

Also my hotel room was quite small, but still ran $200.00 a night at the conference rate. I could easily hear the patrons in the rooms on either side of me laughing, talking, or taking a shower. It wasn’t uncomfortably small, but it wasn’t the vast spaces of the South either.

Arrival (II)

As I carried my suitcase through the streets of Manhattan, I made sure to switch the suitcase back and forth between my arms. I was concerned about only working out one arm. I didn't want to end up like Freddy Rodriguez from the film Lady in the Water.

Arrival

I flew into Newark International airport around noon. The flight was much cheaper than a flight into JFK or LaGuardia. My first view of New Jersey confirmed all of the punch lines I’d heard over the years. I saw a great deal of chemical processing plants and those large tanks that hold caustic liquids of various kinds.

Just perfect for dropping a body into.

I asked a lady behind a counter the best way to get into Manhattan and she recommended Greyline Bus service. I paid $14.00 (as opposed to the $50.00 cab fare) and rode the 12 miles into town. One of their stops looked reasonably close to my hotel, only several blocks away. On the map it didn’t look too far.

That was my biggest mistake of the trip.

They dropped me off at Grand Central Station. I then had to carry my enormous luggage case countless blocks to the Sheraton Manhattan Hotel. There were two problems with this:

1) I do have rollers on my luggage, but the handle was broken on my last trip, a fact I had forgotten.

2) My suitcase was weighted down with file folders, resumes, as well as several days worth of clothes. It weighed 47 pounds.

I am a beast of a man, but carrying that weight got old quickly. It took me a good hour to make it to the hotel in 25 degree weather. I sweated the whole way. When I finally arrived at the Hilton, I brought the suitcase in and collapsed while they looked up my reservation.

“Ummm, Mr. Taran? We don’t seem to have your reservation.”

What?! I took out my itinerary and noticed…….my reservation was for the Sheraton, one more block down 53rd street.

A bellboy (or whatever they call them now) saw my plight and offered to carry my suitcase a block down to the Sheraton. He was fussed at by his supervisor because he would be wearing his Hilton uniform to the Sheraton lobby.

But he carried it down for me anyway and was incredibly gracious. It was then I learned a shocking lesson that was repeated for me on numerous occasions during my several day stay.

Manhattanites are NICE!

Plane Thoughts

For the next few days I’ll be sharing some experiences from my recent trip to New York.

Some random thoughts from my flight from the deep south to Newark.

****I was told that I couldn’t take my Coke Zero through the security area of the airport, but that I could drink it quickly if I wished. So I chugged it immediately. I suspect that the few square feet on the other side of the metal detector (where people put their shoes back on) contain more belches per square inch than any other real estate in the country.

****As we prepared for takeoff, the stewardess went through the standard litany of safety features and procedures of our plane. Nobody listened to her at all. People kept talking or reading their newspaper. I bet it really bothers the airline attendants when people ignore them. I bet inside they are saying “I hope this cabin depressurizes so that the gas masks will fall down in front of the passengers. Since they’ve ignored my safety instructions, they won’t know how the masks work. They will then frantically ask me but I will refuse to tell them. Ah ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!!!"

****Plane departure: 6:35 am. First announcement after we are airborne? “Beer and wine are available for purchase.” The time of that announcement was 6:38 AM!

****After my plane landed in Memphis, we got our stuff out of the overhead compartment and stood in line waiting for them to open the airplane door. I was prepared to move quickly so that I could make my connecting flight. But they kept the door closed so we all just stood in line on the plane. I could see my suitcase being unloaded. My luggage got off the plane before I did. I think that they wanted to give it a head start.

I'm Back

I returned from my busy trip to Manhattan this evening. I'll blog about my trip over the upcoming few days.

One travel note: This is why I rarely initiate conversations with people on the plane.

We're waiting for takeoff on the connecting flight out of Memphis to my home town. There are 12 people on the plane. There are empty seats all throughout the plane.

Me: "Wow, they sure are taking a bath on this flight aren't they!"

Him: (after gazing at me for a second with smoldering eyes) "I sure hope so after this airline has treated me like @*#& all day today."

Me: "Oh."

We didn't share another word the rest of the flight home.

Just Great

In an effort to save money while in Manhattan, I brought a bit of food from home to eat while here.

Yep, I brought some peanut butter. That peanut butter. According to an news report I read, salmonella may "reside in the gut" for up to a year as a person acts as a carrier.


I wonder if the money I've saved will cover the cost of my gastroenterologist for the next year.

December (III)

Christmas morning was wonderful, of course. After hearing Skeeter brag about getting into the living room last year before we got up, I maneuvered our large kitchen island to block off the hallway next to their room. The only way they could get to the den was thorough our bedroom. They were mad as hornets, but waited for us to get ready.

Only Squealer cut through our room and made it into the den. He didn’t go for his presents, rather he headed for the leftover Santa cookies and, ignoring their evidence of Santa’s visit, consumed them immediately.

We then brought in the girls, to the attendant oohs and ahhas. I then read them the nativity account from Luke’s gospel while they acted out the part with Squealer’s Fisher-Price Nativity set (courtesy of PoMonkey and Mr. Ginger). Next year we might just show them the Lego Nativity story.


We all opened our gifts. I received a dozen pairs of socks and now feel very much old. First, because I received the socks, and second, because my first thought was “Gee, what neat socks!!” Kadie also set me up with an MP3 player which will provide the grist for a future blog entry.

Kadie received two pairs of earrings and a necklace. Scooter received, as per her request, a fuzzy pair of boots. Skeeter got blue crocs and assorted clothes. Squealer received a collection of wooden blocks and a tin of Lincoln logs. (When I purchased them, the check-out teenager said “Well, we’re going old school this Christmas aren’t we! Ha Ha Ha”. I struck him with my cane.)

We quickly unwrapped the gifts and then continued to work on lunch. We had over my parents and brother Miguelito, Kadie’s sister PTGirl and our niece. In addition, we had Bartolo and Bonita, my brother and sister-in-law. In addition to all of this family, we also had four people from our church and a coworker from the university who didn’t really have anywhere else to go on Christmas.

This did mean the odd experience of having my worlds collide to some degree. I always wonder, to how Work Taran, Family Taran and Church Taran will interact. But all was well.

December (II)

On Saturday evening Mom and Dad took the three kids to their home and freed up Kadie and me to work on Christmas stuff. The few nights before Christmas are always a challenge to us. We try to prepare ahead so that we don’t have to pull any all nighters on Christmas Eve. And yet in our busyness, I want to guard against giving in to the rank materialism so often associated with the Christmas season. (A great artistic indictment of a materialistic approach to Christmas is the song “Making Christmas” from the remarkable Tim Burton film The Nightmare Before Christmas… available also in either French or Thai).

Christmas Eve morning, unfettered from the kids, was still frenzied. Our home church had no Sunday School and had a service that began at 10:00. Kadie and I sang our trio song again for the call to worship and then we left to drive to Susan Song. Since Kadie was with me (she and the kids stay at our home church) they asked us to sing something. We protested that we didn’t have any song or any music, but they persisted. So we sang our song yet again (as a duet and a cappella). Susan Song loves Kadie very much. (I think a part of it is that they cannot fathom how I ended up with her. They keep hoping that the more time they spend with her, some substantial flaw in her personality will reveal itself. But she keeps her dark side well hidden).

We then returned home to work on Christmas day preparation and finally setting up the last of the gifts. On Christmas eve evening, I went back to Susan Song for a beautiful Lord’s Supper and candle light service. Two problems presented themselves:

First, we had many, many visitors. Everyone brought family and many churches did not meet on Christmas Eve evening. So during the hallowed moments of the Supper, when I should've been reflecting on the depth of Christ's sacrifice for me (as I urged the congregants to do) I instead hastily looked over the Lord's Supper plastic cups of juice to make sure that we had enough. My bowed head belied my frenzied counting.

We did have enough, with one to spare.

The second problem was with footing. The Lord’s Supper was very special but I had never conducted a candle light service before. The timing was a bit off and they turned off the lights before I got off the podium and down to the first pew to share my candle flame with the congregation. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but the front of the podium was lined with the Christmas poinsettias. One misstep and I would be kicking over the purchased remembrance of a departed family member. So with only a small candle, I had to navigate an elusive corridor between a piano, monitor and a small wall. I succeeded without stumbling, but several congregation members told me afterwards that I had been in their prayers.

Following the service I returned home for an hour and arrived at the same time as the kids got home from grandma and grandpa's. We got the kids ready for bed and then put out the cookies for St. Nick. Skeeter insisted on leaving him a note that asked for his autograph and told him that he could only eat the cookies at the back table. She also warned him against getting crumbs on the floor. Finally, she demanded that he save some of the cookies for Mrs. Claus.

She certainly has chutzpah…

December (I)

My vote for the cheesiest line that never fails to bring a lump to my throat:

“Dad, this was the best Christmas ever!!”

Given Scooter’s propensity for sarcasm (which mirrors my own), I was caught up short when she uttered this line. But she meant it. And I think I will have to agree, it was wonderful.

I loved it for the following reasons:

1) We started off December by hosting a Christmas party for our Sunday School class. The Lord has blessed us with a group of friends who challenge us and keep us straight. The fact that they continue to check on me and my family even while I’m gone at Susan Song and Kadie is teaching a youth Sunday School class is genuinely touching.

The normal highlight of the party is the “Mean Santa” game. Shockingly, Kadie suggested we box and wrap a toilet seat, which we had recently replaced in our bathroom. Naturally, I supported her idea.

But the highlight of the party by far was the fact that one of our couples successfully delivered a premature baby during the party. (No, not at the party, she went into the hospital several days before). Mom and baby are doing fine and baby should go home this week after spending the first month of her life in the hospital.

2) The last few weeks of school wrapped up nicely. Finals week and grading passed uneventfully. We had an interesting speaker at graduation, which may have been the most remarkable thing about the entire month.

One amusing conversation occurred during graduation when a colleague said “Taran, I just watched a history channel special on the Gospel of Judas. They mentioned something about Jesus’ brothers. Why haven’t I ever heard that Jesus had siblings??”

“Umm, Bill, it’s because you are Catholic and you believe in the perpetual virginity of Mary.”

“Oh….” replied Bill. It amused me, not only because of the topic, but the setting.

3) We participated in four musicals over the Christmas break. Two with schools and two at church.

Scooter’s middle school presentation went well. Fortunately, they have not banished Christmas songs from her particular school.

Although a little Dave Barry goes a long way, I am reminded of his line

“To avoid offending anybody, the school dropped religion altogether and started
singing about the weather. At my son's school, they now hold the winter program
in February and sing increasingly non-memorable songs such as "Winter
Wonderland," "Frosty the Snowman" and--this is a real song--"Suzy Snowflake,"
all of which is pretty funny because we live in Miami. A visitor from another
planet would assume that the children belonged to the Church of Meteorology.”
Dave Barry in his "Notes on Western Civilization" (Chicago Tribune Magazine,
July 28, 1991)

I am part of the university chorale at our school and we had a winter performance that included the insipid “Feliz Navidad.” The only Christmas song worse than Feliz Navidad is “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” which to my mind is the Christmas version of “100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.”

(And yes, I am aware of the supposed Christian elements to this song. It still gets old quickly. And I cannot fire up my imagination sufficiently to view Jesus as “a partridge in a pear tree.” )

But I digress.

The girls were each in a Christmas musical at church and had various speaking and solo parts. All the kids all had their lines/songs down cold, but the adults did not. The girls both nailed their lines and their notes.

The adult Christmas program went well. Kadie and I were 2/3 of a trio for one of the songs. It was a Gaither/Southern Gospel twang number that I would not have chosen to download from iTunes. (But you can listen here to “So Much God” if you want to hear for yourself.)

As we listened to the song in the car, Scooter asked at one point “Daddy, are they singing that way on purpose?” “What way?” I asked. “With those funny accents...” she clarified.

(more to come…including a wrestling injury, Christmas gifts, and a pastoral confrontation)

Thanksgiving (II)

Frivolity—On Thursday morning, Bonita and Kadie took the kids to the Houston Day parade while Bartolo, Steve, Dad and I sat around and talked prepared for the Thanksgiving meal. The kids loved the parade, but then stood in shock as they got home and watched the exact same (tape delayed) parade on television. Bonita is especially good at finding fun things for her nieces to do. They colored Thanksgiving cards for everyone, assembled numerous ornaments, and decorated a Christmas tree under her direction. I am certain that Bonita violated several child labor laws, but she’s a lawyer and can deal with the feds. (Plus the kids all loved it.)

Shopping on Black Friday presented a dilemma. Sleep in or get up far too early for the purpose of great savings. After much high-level negotiation, we decided not to go out shopping early Friday morning. Although we were also sorely tempted by the filthy lucre of the $250.00 laptops that ensnared Dave and his son, we ultimately opted not to go out. Our conclusion was that arriving at a store at 4:00 am is never the “Best” Buy. Essentially: sloth trumped greed.

Fun—Sunday evening we attended opening night of the Behold the Lamb of God (scroll down to listen) tour by Andrew Peterson. He and some friends apparently get together and perform a musical concert that traces the promise of the coming King from the old testament into the new. I enjoyed the performance, but my favorite part of the evening was the first music set. Peterson and several members of the Square Peg Alliance musical team performed for us. Each person performed two songs and they rotated their performances so that (as Peterson said) “If you really dislike one of us, just wait a minute and someone else will be performing.” I enjoyed each of the performers, though my favorites were Peterson, Derek Webb (of Caedmon’s Call fame) and a new (to me) guy, Andy Gullahorn. Gullahorn in particular was interesting because he was funny (always a plus) and also was very honest in his music. I had the distinct impression that he was more a Christian who happens to make music than a Christian Musician with all the baggage that it implies (grist for a future blog entry). My favorite part of his website is the haiku reviews he has composed of his own concerts. Here's an example:

8-22-06 SPA Show Nashville, TN

Let us just pretend
All of that feedback we heard
Was angels singing

Scooter and Skeeter enjoyed the concert immensely, and it was only later that I realized that it was their first one. I was pleased to be there with them. If the tour comes by your neck of the woods, I encourage you to go by…(and by the way, if you would like to download a free Derek Webb CD (legally) then click here. Offer ends December 1). Sorry Bartolo, it is the same one you just purchased at the concert:(

Overall it was a fantastic weekend. I was reminded yet again of the importance of family. I regret that we live so far away from my brother and sister-in-law...

Thanksgiving Weekend

A tremendous weekend at the Casa de Bartolo y Bonita in Houston.

Five F's for all of my alliterative friends.

We had Family:

In addition to myself and our brood, my parents and youngest brother came down on Wednesday. My youngest brother Steve is fifteen and knows all. He’s currently working on his driver’s license and was driving the car when they were pulled over:

Officer: May I please see your license and registration?

Steve: Her it is, sir. (My parents are arguing in the background)

Officer: Did you know that your tail-light is out and your proof of insurance is out of date??

Steve: “Perhaps you’d like to talk to my parents…”

The officer let him off with a warning…

I really enjoyed Steve at this meeting. He, Bartolo and I played basketball with my Dad for about the first time ever. We played Horse (which Steve suggested we change to “Loser” because of our embarrassing play) and even some two-on-two in a local park. I don’t recall us ever doing this before. Steve is a good eighteen years younger than Bartolo and twenty-two years younger than myself. Since Steve was born the same year I got married, we’ve never lived in the same house together. I’m looking forward to other opportunities to hang out with him. Modesty prevents me from mentioning who utterly dominated on the court.

We had Food:

We had a great Thanksgiving meal with all the fixings. The centerpiece of the meal was a culinary dish Bartolo created called “Trash Can Turkey.” Results were…interesting. I should have some pics up tomorrow. Bonita and Bartolo graciously accommodated our new weird diet, and put us up for five days (not an inexpensive proposition with three kiddos)

We had Football:

Bartolo actually uttered the phrase “I think we’ve seen enough football” late Sunday evening. On Thanksgiving we watched the Cowboys crush the Bucs. All hail Tony Romo! (Geez, even Achilles had his heel, I haven't seen Romo's weakness yet). We skipped the Lion’s game. (Does anyone ever actually watch that game??) Then that evening we saw a bit of the BC/Miami game. On Friday we watched UT lose to A&M—Bartolo is an Aggie, so much rejoicing accompanied their win. On Saturday we went to the Rice-SMU game and joined a joyous throng as Rice completed an improbable season as they defeated the ponies from Dallas. Sunday we watched the Texans stink it up and caught a bit of the Patriots-Bears matchup.

Around and between all of these games Bartolo, Steve and myself played Madden 2006 football. None of us play it that much, so we were whipped pretty soundly.

(Tomorrow--Frivolitry and Fun!)

Mancation

What a great weekend!! My brother, Bartolo, and I shared a fantastic Mancation. A mancation is a time of getting away from normal responsibilities to hang out with each other.* We went to Dallas, Texas and spent much time in book stores (Bartolo is also afflicted with an affinity for books) and watching every second of every baseball playoff game on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings. Capping off our weekend we went to see the Cowboys thrash the Texans (which pleased me but depressed my brother). (Cheese)Life is so busy and relationships are of such low priority that we spend far to little time with those we love most. (/cheese). It was a great time.

*Note, I Googled the term mancation and ended up with many definitions that involved much drunken revelry and general debauchery. Such activities did not characterize our mancation…alas.

A Tragedy

As Kevin has already noted, the beautiful Trinity Cathedral in St. Petersburg, Russia sustained substantial fire damage today.

I had the privilege of traveling to Russia two times many, many years ago. The first time was in 1991 and the city's name was Leningrad. I traveled with a group of BSU students (known today as BCM) to do cosntruction work in local churches. Although we did not work in the Trinity Cathedral, we passed it every day and enjoyed an incredible tour of its beautiful domes.

The second time I went was in 1994 when Southwestern Seminary took a group of students there to lead worship services and conduct revivals around the city. Trinity Cathedral was still a gorgeous part of the city.

No more (although they do plan to rebuild).