Holiday Reading and Rime

During my little end-of-year sabbatical from the office, I have with some difficulty managed to largely put next year's uncertainties out of my mind. Uncertainty, only because in my field there is always uncertainty and questions of resources, funding and expectations. Yet other than an errand I have to run today that is directly work related, by and large it has been a nice little break.

I have even managed to indulge myself in some light reading - light in this case meaning relatively short works. Upon recommendation, I read an extended essay on Understanding American Exceptionalism. Because everybody should, I read Thomas Paine's Common Sense. And for sheer enjoyment, I re-read the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

There are times I wish my work was more labor-oriented than it is. Doing what I do takes a great deal of cognitive energy that at the end of the day often leaves me mentally fatigued. This condition negatively affects my desire to read, especially those works that take some effort to understand. I grieve over this, because with the increasing unlikelihood that I'll ever go back for another degree, reading for the purpose of expanding my education is the only logical path I have. For me, continuing study is essential, as it is the only sure means to counter the inadequacy of whatever knowledge and wisdom I possess. Without study, I find that the wellspring from which I write easily goes dry.

This thought brings to mind two paragraphs I first read just before the holiday break, and have re-read several times over the last two weeks. From Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, "Approved Unto God":

If you cannot express yourself well on each of your beliefs, work and study until you can. If you don’t, other people may miss out on the blessings that come from knowing the truth. Strive to re-express a truth of God to yourself clearly and understandably, and God will use that same explanation when you share it with someone else. But you must be willing to go through God’s winepress where the grapes are crushed. You must struggle, experiment, and rehearse your words to express God’s truth clearly. Then the time will come when that very expression will become God’s wine of strength to someone else. But if you are not diligent and say, “I’m not going to study and struggle to express this truth in my own words; I’ll just borrow my words from someone else,” then the words will be of no value to you or to others. Try to state to yourself what you believe to be the absolute truth of God, and you will be allowing God the opportunity to pass it on through you to someone else.

Always make it a practice to stir your own mind thoroughly to think through what you have easily believed. Your position is not really yours until you make it yours through suffering and study. The author or speaker from whom you learn the most is not the one who teaches you something you didn’t know before, but the one who helps you take a truth with which you have quietly struggled, give it expression, and speak it clearly and boldly.

In its proper context, and even expanding the context, the second paragraph resonates with me. I can know a thing without really knowing, but I can't truly know that thing apart from the ownership that comes with the struggle or the striving. The lesson to be learned may even require suffering the consequences of a folly (Water, water every where, And all the boards did shrink;), until we recognize that so much of what we think we know does nothing to quench our deepest thirst (Water, water every where, Nor any drop to drink). But once learned, the lesson and the wisdom it bequeaths becomes our own, with the credibility and authority to speak it. All we need then is courage at the appointed time.

Venite Adoremus Dominum

"Do not be afraid ; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people ; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:10-11)

Merry Christmas!

Last Minutes

Today is a day of last minutes. Last minute shopping. Last minute baking. Last minute wrapping. Last minute cleaning. Every year it seems, so many of us find ourselves utterly unprepared to savor the spirit of the season. How tempting it is to overcomplicate the simple, to fill every minute of every day with worries that rob us of peace, with activity that swallows whole the opportunity for contemplative respite. We have long since lost the art, the discipline of simply being still.

As night falls on this hallowed Christmas Eve, after the kids are off to bed and presents are safely tucked under the tree, when your last minute concerns are all laid to rest, carve out a few more last minutes to just be still, for as the song says, "'tis the eve of our Saviour's birth." A holy night, indeed. May we treat it as such, and find hope renewed in our weary hearts.

The Little Drummer Boy

I seem to be in a season that entails not exposition, but quiescence. So, with this post, I continue the musical thread.

I have been blessed throughout my life to have been exposed to a wide variety of music styles and musical artists, and depending on my mood, I enjoy most of them. A few I have had the fortune to see perform live on stage. One such opportunity came when I was a teenager in North Dakota. My mother took me into Grand Forks to see a performance by Roger Whittaker. I don't remember a great deal about the concert itself, although I do seem to recall that he used the platform to speak out against the poaching of the African elephant in Kenya. But I digress.

I have always been somewhat envious of those few baritones who have that full, rich sound that can both command the moment and soothe the listening ear. Whittaker and Bing Crosby readily come to mind. Indeed, Crosby has a famous rendition of the following holiday classic, but in honor of my mother who first exposed me to Roger Whittaker, here is The Little Drummer Boy.


Postscript: While distinctly non Christmas, The Last Farewell is always worth a listen.

Noel Nouvelet

I've been camping out on YouTube lately, searching the video archives for classical and traditional performances of various carols. I fear the slow decline of traditional worship attendance will sadly make 4-part choral performances less accessible to many, leaving exposure of such music to schools that can afford choir programs. Nevertheless, there is beautiful music out there to be found, to be heard and enjoyed.

Below is a lovely French carol, "Noel Nouvelet." In the English, we often hear it sung as "Sing We Now of Christmas." Performed in the original French, here is the King's College Choir of the University of Cambridge, England. Enjoy!

Il est né le divin enfant

Now that my year-plus project has finally come to a successful conclusion (well, for 2011 anyway), it is time to begin loosening the binds that have constricted and constrained my muse. While it may yet take some effort to unwind, I can't think of a better way to start than by simply enjoying the sounds of the season.

Still Here, Just Busy

We're in the midst of wrapping up a major project at work, one that is scheduled for final delivery in the next 10 days. Every bit of free time has been dominated by this activity, and unfortunately that may well continue until this is over in mid-December. So consuming is this, that there is a feeling of guilt every time I take a pause.

The push has made it hard to sleep soundly, and easy to miss the little joys of the coming Christmas season. I do get bits of it though, as I walk through the room while my boys practice piano, playing soft Christmas music. I carved out just enough time yesterday to get the tree set up for them to decorate today.

I'll head to church today, but then it will be back to work. As for the next blog post, well, I'll try to get back into it before Christmas. Fare thee well!

Thanksgiving Reflection

I find myself in an interesting place this Thanksgiving, and for a number of reasons I am deeply reflective. Some of it is just life: work, family, being 40. I find that I've done a lot of striving, reaching for things based on my own search for significance. And while I don't often fall into the trap of over-estimating my worth, I do sometimes under-estimate it to a certain degree. What I still seek to perfect, however, is that balanced, objective measure of myself.

Romans 12:3 says: “For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.” 2nd Corinthians 13:5 says: “Test yourselves to see if you are in the faith; examine yourselves! Or do you not recognize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you – unless indeed you fail the test?”

Romans 12 (3:4-8) goes on to say: “Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.”

I am frequently reminded of my own need for a sober examination of mind and heart, in the context of what I am called to be and the person I aspire to be in the faith. This examination is essential as we journey through the process of sanctification, a journey that we each must take as we grow ever more closer to conforming to the image of Christ. It matters not whether it compares to the journey or experiences of another. It is the insight and wisdom we gain through this journey that matters, as it is the work of God in us. To the extent that what we experience and learn inspires or educates others, that is the seed and the fruit that comes from the testimony of the Holy Spirit’s work in us. It is really a remarkable thing, actually, that our journey toward the fullness of Christ – through all our struggles and our humanity – becomes the transformative work that lights the way for others to see the Truth.

In Matthew Henry’s commentary on the Romans 12:3-8 passage, he wrote: “Whatever our gifts or situations may be, let us try to employ ourselves humbly, diligently, cheerfully, and in simplicity; not seeking our own credit or profit, but the good of many, for this world and that which is to come.”

I like those words. But I have to almost daily remind myself of their importance.

What does this have to do with Thanksgiving? It is a fair question. I suppose it is simply this: I indeed have much to be thankful for - more blessings than I can count - and I have been given much. What better way to honor such blessings, such gifts, than to endeavor to live a life that seeks not selfish gain, but rather seeks something greater - fruit that others may enjoy, fruit that will last (John 15:16).

Food for thought. Happy Thanksgiving!

Three Cheers for Nordstrom!

Contrary to popular belief amongst people who know me, I'm not all Bah Humbug at Christmas time. This post, however, will do nothing to dispell that myth. Knowing that people close to me are going to have to work Thanksgiving simply because their employers insist in getting a head start on Black Friday, I find this pleasantly refreshing:

As more and more stores give into the Christmas Creep, putting trees and wreaths out on the sales floor as early as June and July, Nordstrom continues to buck the trend — not only refusing to put up holiday decorations before Thanksgiving, but also letting the world know about it.

On the doors to their stores, Nordstrom has posted signs like the following:

In case you can't read the text, it says: "We won't be decking our halls until Friday, November 25. Why? We just like the idea of celebrating one holiday at a time. Our stores will be closed on Thursday for Thanksgiving festivities. On Friday, our doors will open to ring in the new season in style. From our family to yours, Happy Thanksgiving."

Refreshing indeed! Of course, I do wonder ... just because the stores are closed doesn't mean employees are off Thanksgiving. I presume some will have to show up to put out the holiday gear by opening on Friday. Oh well, it was a nice thought anyway.

Maryland Sunset

The view out my hotel window at the end of this beautiful fall day ...


The camera phone simply does not do the color justice. Praying for a good week.

Veterans Day 2011

Events move around us at the speed of life, leaving us at times breathless and at times restless. So it is now, and so it is always. Perhaps as a consequence of this pace - or as a consequence of our nature - we sometimes fail to remember deeds done before that allow us to continue the standard of living we have today. We sometimes fail to remember deeds done now by those who treasure a nation and a home that even today stands as a beacon of hope.

From its inception 92 years ago, Veterans Day (known then as Armistice Day) has been an occasion for many words, sometimes written, sometimes spoken. It is to just some of these words I turn today, as I reflect on the service of many for the sake of us all:

"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.” - Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address

“This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave.” - Elmer Davis

“In the beginning of a change, the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned. When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot.” - Mark Twain

“Moral courage is the most valuable and usually the most absent characteristic in men.” - Gen George S. Patton

“It is easy to take liberty for granted, when you have never had it taken from you.” - Unknown

“For it has been said so truthfully that it is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the agitator, who has given us the freedom to protest. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, serves beneath the flag, whose coffin is draped by the flag, who gives that protester the freedom to abuse and burn that flag.” - Georgia Senator Zell Miller

The above are but a small few, but I close this post with the following from Ronald Reagan's 1985 Veterans Day speech at Arlington National Cemetery (emphasis mine):

Peace fails when we forget what we stand for. It fails when we forget that our Republic is based on firm principles, principles that have real meaning, that with them, we are the last, best hope of man on Earth; without them, we're little more than the crust of a continent. Peace also fails when we forget to bring to the bargaining table God’s first intellectual gift to man: common sense. Common sense gives us a realistic knowledge of human beings and how they think, how they live in the world, what motivates them. Common sense tells us that man has magic in him, but also clay. Common sense can tell the difference between right and wrong. Common sense forgives error, but it always recognizes it to be error first.

We endanger the peace and confuse all issues when we obscure the truth; when we refuse to name an act for what it is; when we refuse to see the obvious and seek safety in Almighty. Peace is only maintained and won by those who have clear eyes and brave minds. Peace is imperiled when we forget to try for agreements and settlements and treaties; when we forget to hold out our hands and strive; when we forget that God gave us talents to use in securing the ends He desires. Peace fails when we forget that agreements, once made, cannot be broken without a price.

Each new day carries within it the potential for breakthroughs, for progress. Each new day bursts with possibilities. And so, hope is realistic and despair a pointless little sin. And peace fails when we forget to pray to the source of all peace and life and happiness. I think sometimes of General Matthew Ridgeway, who, the night before D-day, tossed sleepless on his cot and talked to the Lord and listened for the promise that God made to Joshua: “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”

We're surrounded today by the dead of our wars. We owe them a debt we can never repay. All we can do is remember them and what they did and why they had to be brave for us. All we can do is try to see that other young men never have to join them. Today, as never before, we must pledge to remember the things that will continue the peace. Today, as never before, we must pray for God's help in broadening and deepening the peace we enjoy. Let us pray for freedom and justice and a more stable world. And let us make a compact today with the dead, a promise in the words for which General Ridgeway listened, “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”

May God bless you today as you take time to remember and honor those who protect what we are from enemies without, and enemies within.

RIP Bil Keane

Last link of the lunch break brought me this news. Bil Keane, creator of the Family Circus comic strip, has passed away at the age of 89.

I often copy down my favorite panels. The one below I feel is most appropriate. Thanks for all the smiles, Mr. Keane.

Wait, I Thought They Were "Holiday Trees"

With all of the other events in the news, you might not know it, but Christmas trees are all the rage. First, from the files of political correctness, I bring you the Wisconsin governor:

On Monday, Walker decided that he wanted to shake things up a bit. Rather than following recent tradition and referring to the (Christmas) tree that is placed in the Wisconsin’s Capitol Rotunda as a “holiday tree,” he’s changing course. For the past 25 years, lawmakers have referred to the evergreen that is decorated with ornaments and a star with this benign, uncategorized reference. Now, Walker plans to, once again, call the tree what it is — a Christmas tree.

But when asked, spokesman Cullen Werwei confirmed that the decision was intentional. “It’s a Christmas tree,” Werwei said. “In all honesty, I don’t know what more to say about it.” In the Charleston Daily Mail, Don Surber echoed this sentiment, writing, “Republican Governor Scott Walker of Wisconsin just ended 25 years of stupidity.”

Yet ironically, not even the federal government seems all that bent out of shape in calling a Christmas Tree a Christmas Tree. From the "I want a taxpayer subsidized government job in marketing holiday wares" category:

In the Federal Register of November 8, 2011, Acting Administrator of Agricultural Marketing David R. Shipman announced that the Secretary of Agriculture will appoint a Christmas Tree Promotion Board. The purpose of the Board is to run a “program of promotion, research, evaluation, and information designed to strengthen the Christmas tree industry’s position in the marketplace; maintain and expend existing markets for Christmas trees; and to carry out programs, plans, and projects designed to provide maximum benefits to the Christmas tree industry” (7 CFR 1214.46(n)). And the program of “information” is to include efforts to “enhance the image of Christmas trees and the Christmas tree industry in the United States” (7 CFR 1214.10).

To pay for the new Federal Christmas tree image improvement and marketing program, the Department of Agriculture imposed a 15-cent fee on all sales of fresh Christmas trees by sellers of more than 500 trees per year (7 CFR 1214.52). And, of course, the Christmas tree sellers are free to pass along the 15-cent Federal fee to consumers who buy their Christmas trees.

Strengthen the Christmas tree industry's position in the market? What, there's competition? Must be the artificial tree market. Taxing real trees in an effort to get people to buy real trees seems like a winner to me. Yeah, that'll work.

Furthermore, if the federal government officially recognizes the evergreen on display in November and December as a Christmas tree, then once and for all can we not dispense with the whole "holiday tree" nonsense? Fred Gailey, call your office.

Ah yes, Christmas is in the air.

UPDATE: Within two hours of my post, the Obama administration elects to delay the dreaded Christmas tree tax.

Intentionally Untitled

Try as I might, I simply cannot decide on a title for this post. So let's just put that aside, and allow me to relate an experience I had yesterday morning on the way to work.

I live outside the city proper, so the morning commute to get my kids to school and myself to work is a 40 minute routine, on average. Yesterday however, traffic flow over the mountain and into town was abnormally slow. Usually, that means an accident up on or near where the interstate starts. Checking my watch, I knew I had time, provided we at least kept moving. Still, I found myself feeling a little grumpy at the delay, but with my kids in the car, I kept my thoughts to myself.

After reaching the high point, I was able to look down and see the flashing lights down on the left hand side, at the point where the interstate moves to its upraised segment. As we crawled ever so closer, I couldn't see any evidence of a pile up, or a stalled vehicle. Just a solitary police car, parked on the narrow shoulder and jutting out slightly into the traffic lane. In my mind, I'm trying to figure out all the standard scenarios. And I was puzzled, because the officer was the only one on the scene, and he was partially blocking traffic. Why didn't he just go ahead and move out of the way? He's obviously doing his job, but he is also creating a traffic hazard.

As I'm already locked in the left lane, I figure there's not much I can do but wait it out. When I finally came up alongside the police car, I still didn't see anything. And then I did, and I'm not sure I can completely explain what happened next.

About five feet in front of the officer's car, laying down next to the median barrier, was a dog. He was panting a bit, head erect, and clearly frightened. I could not tell if he was injured, and as I drove by, I fixed my eyes upon him for just an additional moment in my side mirror. Then I had to move on, as the traffic had picked up the pace past the cop, past the dog.

But throughout the rest of the commute, my mind just kept replaying the image of what I had just seen. That the dog was alive at all was a miracle in itself, for where he was, there really was nowhere for him to go. He was trapped by the traffic, by the side walls of the road itself. How did he get there? Who did he belong to? What was going to happen to him? It was further a wonder that the dog stayed put, as one can only imagine the impact to both him and morning commuters had he darted out again into the road.

Then my thoughts settled on the police officer, and suddenly I found myself fighting a wave of deep-seated emotion that nearly engulfed me. This officer could have easily driven by and ignored the plight of this poor animal. Most people probably would have. Yet he parked there, providing a shield of protection around the dog, protecting him as best he could from the heavy flow of traffic and the possibility of further injury or death, presumably waiting for the arrival of animal control or some other rescue. All these thoughts and emotions, as one who has been sheltered, as one who has tried to shelter … this scene was such a poignant and living metaphor in so many ways … I find it hard to speak of it out loud. I've only told the story twice, and each time struggled to get through it.

I don't know what happened to the dog, and there's no way I'll ever know. But I won't forget what I saw, and I won't forget what I felt. It's given me a lot to think about.

Autumn Leaves

We've had a lovely streak of beautiful weather the past several days here in North Alabama, filled with blue skies, turning leaves, mid-30's at night warming to upper 60's during the day. Indeed, the air has been simply refreshing. Aside from the complete beatdown of my Auburn Tigers at the hands of LSU, it was a very nice and productive weekend. Coming back to the office today, well as I said, it was a good weekend.

Working outside yesterday, the autumn leaves fell all around me and brought immediately to mind the video clip below, that I had seen online only the day before. Consider it fodder for a light-hearted start to a busy week:


(h/t: Dave Carter)

Occupy Movement: Marshaling Their Forces

I suggested in a previous post that the fledging Occupy Movement was unlikely to have long-term staying power, as I believed it to be a marginal activist demonstration. I may be mistaken. Left to its own devices, not to mention the coming of winter, it likely would have puttered out. But according to the Washington Post today, the activists are marshaling their forces and making alliances - with the large labor unions:

Labor groups are mobilizing to provide office space, meeting rooms, photocopying services, legal help, food and other necessities to the protesters. The support is lending some institutional heft to a movement that has prided itself on its freewheeling, non-institutional character.

And in return, Occupy activists are pitching in to help unions ratchet up action against several New York firms involved in labor disputes with workers.

And apparently, they feel that they have much to offer each other:

“Our members have been trying to have this discussion about Wall Street and the economy for a long time,” AFL-CIO President Richard Trumka said in an interview. “This movement is providing us the vehicle.”

...

“We’re hoping this will inspire them to take on more militant tactics,” said Jackie DiSalvo, an Occupy Wall Street organizer who has been coordinating with labor. “The fact that they’re willing to support more militant tactics might mean that they’re willing to start doing more.”

...

“Now is this rare opportunity for labor unions, and especially the union leadership, to take some pointers,” Ide said, adding that unions should consider the civil-disobedience approach taken by Occupy demonstrations. “The whole Zuccotti Park thing is quasi-legal,” he said. “Unions, we have to obey the law. But sometimes it’s time to think outside the box.”

Both groups operate under the notion that the taxpayers and the wealthy owe them something. Again, it is about the attitude of entitlement. Frankly, I am a little surprised at just how transparent and forthcoming some of the quotes in this article actually are: "militant", "civil disobedience", "outside the box" [meaning outside the law].

So where do things go from here? One possibility is that this alliance will backfire and further reduce the standing of each entity in the public eye as the protests become more disruptive to people's lives. I also believe that we may be in for at least 12-14 months of civil and economic disruption, to include rioting and violence all the way through and past next year's presidential election.

I wasn't alive during the 60's to witness the great generational period of unrest America experienced. But the chances are increasing that history is about to repeat itself.

My fear is this: How will the nation respond when (or if) the Occupy Movement and the unions eventually resort to lawbreaking and violence?

And you thought our country was divided before.

Quandry

The 2011 edition of the World Series starts tonight, featuring the National League Wild-Card St. Louis Cardinals against the A.L. West Division Champion Texas Rangers.

I'm a Cubs guy, through and through. Which means it goes against my very nature to pull for the Cardinals. But I am also a National League guy, and thus I am disinclined to pull for the Rangers.

If it weren't St. Louis, I could probably find a way to be impartial and just enjoy the series. Or I suppose I could just ignore it and watch football.

Cards vs. Rangers. This is a quandry I cannot resolve.

Carina, Carina

Simply beautiful. Another stunning image from NASA's Chandra X-Ray Observatory. According to the image caption, the Carina Nebula is "a star-forming region in the Sagittarius-Carina arm of the Milky Way that is 7,500 light years from Earth." The Observatory has detected more than 14,000 stars in that particular region. Click image to enlarge.

National Entropy

"It is a wise man who plants a tree under the shade of which he knows he will never sit."

I came across the above quote in an article published months ago in ESPN Magazine about the poisoned trees on Toomer's Corner in Auburn. I've tried to hunt down its origins, but so far I have only found non-authoritative sources suggesting that it comes from a Greek proverb.

The figurative notion it conveys is nothing new, and is one that applies in so many of life's active arenas. It is a matter of generational legacy: what values, what faith, what freedom, what ideals are we passing down to our children? Is the foundation eroding underneath us inevitable, can it be prevented, and do we even care? As a society, there's plenty of doom and gloom to go around, and it seems certain that tomorrow will look different from today even as much as today is far different from yesterday. It takes focused, controlled energy to counter entropy. In physics, disorder is more probable than order. Time will tell if this is true of us as a nation as well.

Protesters Stand with Jesus?

To be honest, I haven't given much thought to this so-called protest movement called Occupy Wall Street. To me, it just seems to be another flavor-of-the-month rally that attracts mostly those who want to rail against capitalism, rich people, and government. In the past, such protests usually include elements and/or organizations with Marxist or socialist agendas, and thus are typically less likely to include those who truly hail from freedom-loving America. Generally speaking, folks have the right to protest in the name of whatever they choose, and whether I agree with them or not, I can live and let live.

But there are those who, if you'll pardon the irony, try to capitalize on the opportunity presented when a bunch of easily impressionable people take to the streets to protest. Far too many of these protesters are out there, without any reason or principle driving them other than it seems like a cool thing to do. These people rail on about things they don't understand, chanting phrases and slogans from the 60's, and issuing demands for whatever it is they feel entitled to. And that is the essential element: entitlement. Demands for free college education, demands for jobs, demands for free health insurance, demands to tax the rich guy, demands for fairness; all these are ripe for manipulation by socialists and Marxists. The political left considers Occupy Wall Street a legitimate uprising, while the Tea Party (which has been far more demonstrably civil and representative, in my opinion, of the American middle) is labeled as extremist. But again, if people want to be pawns, that's their choice. Live and let live.

Where I do get some heartburn, however, is when those elements of the Church who lean heavily on liberation theology attempt to imply that protest movements like Occupy Wall Street "stand with Jesus." Jim Wallis, posting at Sojourners, serves as an example. (Sojourners is a publication group formed in 1971 to "articulate the biblical call to social justice, inspiring hope and building a movement to transform individuals, communities, the church, and the world." I read their material every now and then, although I rarely find myself in full agreement.)

In a recent post, Mr. Wallis wrote the following:

We will likely see images and hear things from Occupy Wall Street demonstrators that will offend us and some that will inspire.

We’ll hear demands that we agree with and some that we don’t.

And that’s OK.

The Occupy Wall Street protests make some people nervous, while others scratch their heads, and more than a few grab their sleeping bags and join in.

There is a lot of speculation as to who the "Occupiers" are and what they might accomplish. There is much I still don’t know about the movement, but undeniably it has caught the imagination of a generation -- and that matters.

Here are a few things I do know about the Occupy Wall Street protesters:

When they stand with the poor, they stand with Jesus.

When they stand with the hungry, they stand with Jesus.

When they stand for those without a job or a home, they stand with Jesus.

When they are peaceful, nonviolent, and love their neighbors (even the ones they don’t agree with and who don’t agree with them), they are walking as Jesus walked.

When they talk about holding banks and corporations accountable, they sound like Jesus and the biblical prophets before him, who all spoke about holding the wealthy and powerful accountable.

Pray for those out on the streets.

Where to begin? First, Jesus did not come to this planet to provide a path to social justice. He came to save sinners from eternal separation from God Almighty, to provide a path to redemption and sanctification and everlasting life. Jesus did not take to the streets to protest governments, or demand entitlements from Rome for His chosen people, Israel. There is only one type of person who can "stand with Jesus" - the one who professes Jesus Christ as Lord, descended from Heaven, risen from the dead.

The one who "stands with the poor" does not necessarily stand with Jesus. What good does it do for us to take to the streets with our wallets, our cars parked in a paid parking deck, cellphones logged into Twitter, demanding that the rich and powerful provide for the poor? Would it not be better to serve quietly, where the truly poor are, be it through ministries in the church or local charities? You are not likely to find the "poor" online and following social media on their cell phones.

The one who "stands with the hungry" does not necessarily stand with Jesus. Mr. Wallis suggests that we the Church should go out to the streets, visit with the protesters, and take THEM food. Are you kidding me? You want to stand with the hungry, then feed those that are truly starving. That is one of the more important roles of the Church - it does little good for us to take to the streets and demand that the government or the rich feed the hungry. If you have means, and passion to serve, work through your church and just do it. Standing on Wall Street holding a sign does absolutely nothing for the hungry.

The one who "stands for those without a job or a home" does not necessarily stand with Jesus. We are entitled to nothing in this world. Nothing. Neither the rich nor the government owes us anything. At all. In economic hard times, people lose jobs and sometimes lose their homes. It can indeed be tragic. But sitting on the street demanding that the rich and the government give people jobs and homes accomplishes nothing. Can the church help those who are unemployed and homeless? Of course we can. But we would be better served - and blessed - if we actually helped them, as opposed to protesting as if the world owed us something. Because the world owes us nothing - and if you haven't figured that out yet, it is time to grow up.

As far as Mr. Wallis' comment about those that are "peaceful, nonviolent, and love their neighbors," guess what, I don't have much argument with that. But to walk as Jesus walked takes more than being civil and kind to others: Philippians 2:1-11.

But then he says that those who "talk about holding banks and corporations accountable, they sound like Jesus," he loses me again. Jesus and the prophets did not talk about holding the wealthy and powerful accountable - not in the sense that Mr. Wallis claims. Everything Jesus preached on this matter had to do with 1) the individual's tendency to place greater value in material things than in spiritual things, and 2) taking issue with the teachers of the law, the religious leaders of Judaism who had been corrupted by power and money. Jesus did not rail against the Romans - although many among Jesus' followers desperately wanted him to lead a protest-based rebellion against Rome. What Mr. Wallis ascribes to Jesus is precisely what Jesus did not do. Jesus did not call for the wealthy and powerful to be accountable to the people. He called them - and all of us - to be accountable to God. Jesus was there to save men's souls - not to foment a populist rebellion or to establish an earthly kingdom that provided material equality and benefits and justice to everyone. Such a kingdom is one made in man's image, not one that proceeds from the throne of Heaven.

Perhaps there are pockets of people on these streets who are truly gathered in Jesus' name. And if so, without doubt the Holy Spirit would be present. But to ascribe alignment to Christ by those who may not acknowledge His Name, but who only profess to "stand" with the poor, hungry and jobless is false. This doesn't necessarily make them bad people, nor does it make their ideals suspect. Anybody can be good and stand for good things. But standing for good things doesn't equate to standing with Christ. It very much comes down to motive, and I know for certain that I can claim no special knowledge to what drives these people to these protests. But as 1 Samuel 16:7 says, "… for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."

With apologies to Mr. Wallis, standing with Christ is a far higher, and a far more transformative standard than what his observations suggest.

Best Decision I Ever Made

I have made countless decisions in my life and my work, some of them big and many of them small. Some of those decisions turned out well, others not so well. But one of those choices stands out heads above the rest.

Twenty years ago this week, I fell in love with my best friend. The emotion and experience caught me off guard at the time, but set the stage for a relationship that in so many ways has helped shape who I am and what I am meant to be. That the Lord brought us together in marriage is a marvel and a joy that still stands so many years later.

She is my best friend, mother to my children, my partner in faith and in life, and in so many ways completes and balances me. We have been together now for half of my life, and I have the better end of the deal.

I'm not usually into marquee proposals or valentine billboards, and in some ways this blog post might be construed as such. But every now and then, something more than a private, personal declaration is warranted.

Twenty years, and we've barely scratched the surface of our future. I can't wait to see what's in store.

All my love is yours, Janet. The next Taco Bell meal is on me.

Asthmatic Rant - The Idiotic Regulation of Inhalers

This actually all started a few years ago, when the environmental lobby successfully convinced Washington that all forms of chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs) are horribly, terribly bad for the atmosphere and the environment. CFCs, a common propellant that was used in aerosol based spray products, are supposedly a danger to the Earth's ozone layer. Mind you, if all the people of the world stood outside and sprayed every can of every sort up into the air, it would never rise high enough into the atmosphere to ever even dent the ozone layer. I will allow that potentially, of course, if vast amounts of CFCs were injected high enough, perhaps some minor degradation could occur (based on the chemistry and science only tested in a laboratory environment). At any rate, the FDA decided that not only are aerosol cans a dire threat to our world, but small, compact CFC based asthma inhalers are too.

I am an asthmatic. Have been since I was 10 years old. I have had prescription-only, fast-acting inhalers by my side ever since. Fortunately with age, my asthma has eased to primarily a seasonal nuisance, but I still never go anywhere without an inhaler. For the past few years, I've had to use an "environmentally safe" inhaler that costs more and doesn't work nearly as well (it takes more puffs to get sufficient medicine into my lungs). Tell me, can anyone seriously or honestly believe that any puff I take out of a CFC based inhaler is 1) going to end up in the atmosphere instead of my lungs, or 2) that there's enough of it that might escape high enough to do any sort of measurable damage to the environment? Horse-puckey. I don't buy it. At all.

It's too late now, of course. I suppose we ought to be glad they didn't ban inhalers entirely. The environmentalists have won this battle, and the pharmaceuticals are either just passing down the cost of increased regulation to the patient or increasing their profit. I don't know which, and I don't care.

To the environmentalists: Stay out of my medicine cabinet and let me breathe.

Boatlift - Manhattan 9/11

A fellow member over at Ricochet posted this today, a powerful and moving story that you may have never heard - the boatlift evacuation of Manhattan on 9/11. There are many untold stories of that fateful day, but this one deserves to be spread far and wide.


(h/t: Aaron Miller)

Look Out Above

2011 has certainly been anything but uneventful. We've had record snowfall and tornados. We've had hurricanes and floods. We've had earthquakes and wildfires. Now, the sky is falling:

NASA space junk experts have refined the forecast for the anticipated death plunge of a giant satellite, with the U.S. space agency now predicting the 6 1/2-ton climate probe will plummet to Earth around Sept. 23, a day earlier than previously reported.

The defunct bus-size spacecraft is NASA's Upper Atmospheric Research Satellite (UARS), which launched in 1991 and was shut down in 2005 after completing its mission. The satellite was expected to fall to Earth sometime this year, with experts initially pegging a weeks-long window between late September and early October, then narrowing it to the last week of this month.

While NASA expects much of it to disintegrate upon re-entry, as many as 26 large pieces are expected to survive and make impact with the surface of the planet. With any luck, the satellite formerly known as UARS will fall into the ocean. However, there is a 1-in-3200 chance of debris hitting a person on the ground. And although experts assure us that these are "extremely remote" odds, it would be nice if there were just a few more zeros at the end of that 3200 number. As a point of fact however, when Skylab fell in 1979, the odds of it hitting anyone was 1-in-152. NASA and JSOC (Joint Space Operations Center) won't know for sure where until just 2 hours before reentry.

So while you are going about your week, worrying about the economy, the Middle East, or the performance of your favorite college football team, you might want to look out above.

10 Years Later

Remarkably, I'm not sure I have much to say on this 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks that brought down the World Trade Center in New York and tore a hole in the side of the Pentagon. Retrospective pieces abound both on the internet and on TV, but I have mostly chosen to steer away from many of these. However, I did watch the National Geographic special on 9/11, in particular the interview of President George W. Bush on his recollection of that fateful day.

A few items did catch my attention, though, including this article in the Washington Post about a couple of F-16 pilots sent off to stop United 93 - on unarmed planes. The most interesting find to me was the release of recently declassified audio associated with a Rutgers Law Review study that recreated and analyzed the operational facts of the FAA and NORAD response to the attacks. From the preface:

Team 8 of the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States has determined the operational facts of the Federal Aviation Administration’s (FAA) and North American Aerospace Defense Command’s (NORAD) response to [the] September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, as reconstructed from primary sources such as logs, tape recordings, transcripts and radar data, and corroborated in interviews with key personnel involved. Set forth in this monograph is the definitive account concerning when and how the FAA gained situational awareness that each of the four commercial aircraft was hijacked by terrorists on the morning of 9/11, when and how the FAA notified the military about each of the hijacked aircraft, and when and how the military responded.

From a historical standpoint, I found the report and the audio extremely informative, and more than enough to bring back the chaos and uncertainty of that morning - a dynamic that quite a few of these 10th anniversary retrospectives seem to gloss over. From an emotional standpoint, well, we'll just leave that there for now.

In memory of those we lost, in honor of those who responded, and in gratitude to those who serve on the front lines today I simply say: God bless you, and God bless the United States of America.

Classic Reagan

Ok, I suppose I ought to offer a mea culpa for this, especially after my post yesterday on civility in political discourse. But the truth is, I have a low tolerance for hecklers who claim to stand on First Amendment rights for the purpose of disrupting orderly presentations, speeches and forums. Hecklers by definition are anti-civil in both motive and method. For whatever reason, they are often tolerated today until removed by security.

Perhaps that is the reason that I find the clip below so refreshing and hilarious at the same time. I imagine only Reagan could get away with this of course. But it echoes my sentiments exactly.


(h/t: Claire Berlinksi, Ricochet)

Civility Doesn't Sell

Try as I might, I just cannot bring myself to focus my limited time and mental facilities to blogging about politics. I first seriously began paying attention to the machinations of our governing class in 1991, largely because the 1992 presidential cycle represented my first opportunity to vote (I was only 17 in the 1988 cycle). For the last two decades, I've grown up some and learned that many in the political class are nowhere near as honorable as the institution they purport to serve. I am first a fiscal conservative, laced with a strong proclivity toward social conservatism that is yet limited by a streak of libertarian thought. I pledge allegiance to no party, although my leanings are pretty obvious.

The headlines are filled with economic, political and social drama - much of it manufactured to maintain the information industry that has grown exponentially these last 20 years. Buried underneath this noise are real issues, real crises that are lost in the over-the-top outrageous outrage being perpetrated by those both in front and behind the cameras. There are no rules being followed in our national discourse. The age of civility, if there was ever truly such a thing, no longer exists. Extreme language and metaphor is now the norm. Jimmy Hoffa, Jr. calls for an army of union workers to go to war against the Tea Party, and gets a presidential pass for it. A one-time Republican candidate uses a hunting metaphor and gets the party raked over the coals for weeks and is accused of promoting political violence. And they all by and large get a pass from the general public, because among the masses, the rhetoric is just as extreme - just look at any message board, or comments below online articles.

This phenomenon is not limited to politics. You find it in the entertainment industry, major sports, and shockingly even in some religious circles. Fans and participants alike have all been conditioned to accept the use of such extreme rhetoric, and to expect it. Civil and polite discourse is ignored, perhaps because the tone and vocabulary used fails to cut through the cacophony of rage, malice and bile. Sometimes I can only shake my head and wonder. The Vandals aren't at the gate; they are already among us - and I fear that in many cases, they are us.

I'd like to believe that there is hope that we can rescue ourselves from further depravity and baseness. Yet as I look out upon the landscape of our society, with my limited view and even more limited understanding, it is hard to see people lifting themselves out of the mosh pit of rhetorical decadence. The information and entertainment industries have no interest in slowing the trend either, for one obvious reason.

In the 21st century America, civility doesn't sell.

Second City Bound

Back in February, an ill-timed rupture of my appendix (and a 5-day hospital stay) rudely prevented a long-overdue anniversary getaway. We had to cancel the trip, but were allowed to defer our plane tickets provided we used them by the end of September.

With September now quickly coming into view, we've opted for a family trip to the Windy City. We'll hit the planetarium, introduce the boys to the hallowed grounds of Wrigley Field, and hopefully enjoy a break from the southern summer heat. The only anxieties I have about the journey is putting myself and my family completely at the mercy of public transportation. I'm just not a big-city guy. I'd prefer to drive, but dealing with a rental and parking with our itinerary simply isn't practical.

Still, it should be a fun trip, and despite the miserable season the Cubs have had, I have hopes that breathing the rarified air at Wrigley will do wonders for my spirit. At the very least, we'll have the opportunity this coming month to create some new family memories for my quickly growing boys. It'll be good.

My Room

At long last, I have my own room. At least I'd like to think so. After two years, a lot of effort and more money than I'd prefer to think about, the bonus room over the garage is done, and we have begun to "move in." I am sitting here with my back toward the afternoon window, looking out at a still mostly unfurnished room - there is a trundle bed for guests, and a recliner that was a bigger pain to move up the stairs than I had bargained for. The wall of built-in bookshelves are still empty, but hold the promise of a quiet reading-room to be. I am typing this on my laptop of course, sitting behind a new dark wood desk, boasting a classy modern black finish with matching two-shelf stand and a 2-drawer file cabinet right behind me. To my right is a recently purchased HP TouchPad, currently linked to an internet radio station playing the smooth sounds of big band and swing. Or, with the touch of the screen, I can be logged into a web service that allows me to play digital audio files from our CD collection (which are stored on the media computer in the kitchen). The TouchPad is connected via stereo cable to a set of Bose speakers behind me, which fill the room with whatever soundtrack I desire.

This is to be my place, my refuge where I can escape the world for a few moments at a time and indulge my desire for solitude, and perhaps to write whatever words may come.

Of course, it is not just my room. Before very long, I'm certain it will become Grand Central Station (as attested by the arrival at this precise moment of my youngest son, trying to look over my shoulder). But aside from the interruptions, it is still nice to have a place to go, to have a space more or less my own.

I have long wanted a place to write and to read, a place to study and research, a place to rest that "feels" like my own. Although, I can't say whether the words will come any easier this way (indeed, I'm finding it quite tempting to let the music play, cut the lights, and nap in that recliner over there). But at least I'm nearly set up for the endeavor.

Yet the real world continues to breathe heavily down my neck. I have 6 months of work to do in the next 3, and I have more than a little anxiety about the outcome, not to mention the personal cost of associated with achieving success. I hit burnout 7 months ago, and have found little relief since then. Still, I am enslaved to the deadline before me, so I will give up my Sunday afternoon and soldier through it somehow.

But that can wait a few more minutes, while I close my eyes and immerse myself in the music filling this space, taking for myself a moment of solitude, rest and escape in this delightful sanctum that is my room.

O Waly, Waly

Sometimes, a melody seeps its way into your mind and takes up residence, like an old friend whose name you cannot quite remember, but remember him you do, and fondly. Such is the nearly 400 year old folk song known as "O Waly, Waly." I have heard this in many places and in many forms over the years, never really knowing or remembering its origins - I may have even played it once or twice. It is a lovely and haunting song that truly plays on the heartstrings, like a memory.

I present two versions of it for you tonight. The first video is of the Eleva Chamber Players performing the 3rd Movement of Suite for Strings by John Rutter. The second is a live vocal performance by Hayley Westernra. Beautiful, haunting, and strangely comforting despite its melancholy.

Arrested Development

I feel as old as I have my whole life. The world I perceive through my eyes changes frequently - and often dramatically - with the passage of time. Landscapes once as open as the expanse of nature are turned over to the migratory expansion of man, while old haunts are either paved over or left to rot. Faces I see begin to reveal lines once hidden, whereas the young seem ever younger in comparison. I even look in the mirror with puzzlement, because what I see is a disconnect between what my mind says and what my eyes see to be the impact of time.

I am as old as I have been my whole life. When I was a teenager, I constantly wrestled with the meaning of manhood, the meaning of being an adult and the nature of the boundary I presumed I would have to cross to finally and fully become "grown up." Yet I'm beginning to wonder if such a boundary even exists, or, if it does exist, whether I will ever reach the border and cross it. Because despite being a husband and father, despite being fully employed and owning property, and despite carrying the burdens typically associated with being an adult … I'm still not sure that I've "grown up."

Is it a case of arrested development? So many of the insecurities I had at 12 I still have now at 40. The uncertainty and obsessions that have driven me all my life still drive me. Coming to faith in Christ changed some of that, but every time I stop to take measure of myself - of who I am, or who I am becoming - I feel less sure that I will ever arrive at that place of wisdom that I imagine to be the hallmark of an adult. What does that even mean?

The world I perceive is constantly changing, but who I am seems to be unchanged, from behind these eyes anyway. Or perhaps that's not true at all, and I am changed and still changing on account of life's many experiences, but am just unable to see it clearly for myself.

Or maybe still, this whole notion of being a grown-up is a false construct. What we are, we are. Perhaps wisdom, as a measure of … something … only has meaning when it is placed in context, to compare or contrast.

I am as old as I've always been. And perhaps there is nothing really wrong with that. Maybe, I just … am.

Google Buys Motorola - For Patents

I meant to sit down and comment yesterday on the news that Google plans to purchase Motorola Mobility for $12.5 billion. It is a staggering development that furthers the downward slide of Motorola as an innovating technology pioneer and bellwether.

The deal marks the end of independence for a company that helped pioneer mobile phones and introduced its first consumer handset in the early 1980s.

Motorola announced a plan to spin off its mobile-phone business in March 2008 amid market share losses and pressure from billionaire Icahn. The company completed the split in January, after the global recession delayed the deal. Motorola Inc. became Motorola Solutions Inc., which makes radio equipment for emergency workers and scanning devices for retailers.

I began my career with Motorola, first working for the company (then well over 120,000 employees worldwide) as a cooperative education student until graduating from college, then joining one of the company's telecommunication equipment making facilities as an electrical engineer doing modem design and product sustainment. In my naiveté, I really wanted to be a "company-man" and stay a Motorolan for my entire career. The 1990's saw a fierce battle waged for market position as enablers of the "Information Age" as it was so often described. When I started, we were developing 9600 baud modems, 2400 cellular modems (the beloved "bricks"), and CSUs/DSUs on the digital side. Then as analog communication standards were approved we quickly ramped to 14.4 bps, 28.8 bps, 33.6 bps all the way to the fight for 56K, then purported to be the fastest speed you could get over a standard phone line. Shortly afterwards, however, Motorola pulled the plug on the effort. From a cost of business standpoint, the company just could not compete. For despite the fact that Motorola quality almost always ranked near the top, thanks in part to a rigorous (and over-burdening) quality process (think Six Sigma and blame it on Motorola), the "cost" of that quality made our products less than price competitive. By 1998, the plant was shut down and operations consolidated elsewhere. I tried to stick with the company a little longer, accepting a transfer to the Semiconductor Products Sector, but in time I was forced to accept that unless I was willing to move to Schaumburg to work a Quality Management job, Motorola would not be in my long term future. So I moved on.

I continued to watch the company, although I'm not entirely sure why. I watched over time as they poured more and more resources into cell phones and pagers, and then dropping pagers. Eventually they sold (or spun off, depending on who you read) their semiconductor business. Recently, the company split in two, forming Motorola Mobility (the cell phone / smart phone commodity business unit) and Motorola Solutions (radios, IT and enterprise infrastructure). Now the latter is all that is left.

That the company was bought by Google is a little disconcerting. I find it funny how people scream about oil companies and profits and the like, when in my view the more suspect corporatist machinations revolve around the information industry (Google, Apple, Microsoft). What this deal gives Google is control over all the patents Motorola owns dating back to the early days of cellular and communications technology. Motorola once was an innovator. Now, it seems their value is based less on the work they do now, and more on work done in the past. It is sad, as an ex-Motorolan, to see the one-time leader fall so far. What they have left leaves them as one of many. Motorola is not dead, but they are no longer something special.

In my garage, on my workbench, is an old 1950's era AM radio built by Motorola. Although slow to power up, it still works. But largely, it is a forgotten artifact buried behind piles of toolboxes and scrap wood. Hopefully, the company will fare better than that radio. Because even though I haven't worked for the company in 13 years, I still would like to see them succeed.

NASA Looking to Retain Institutional Knowledge

I've written previously about my concerns with regard to the potential loss of scientific and engineering know-how that may be inevitable with the (temporary?) grounding of NASA's manned space flight program. While the privatization of space flight capabilities carries with it the opportunity to press forward into that last frontier, it does not in itself negate the impact of losing 6 decades of knowledge and experience in the design of vehicle and propulsion systems. This is a real possibility if the program stays grounded for too long.

Fortunately, NASA is taking steps to retain that technical knowledge, through the creation of the National Institute for Rocket Propulsion Systems (NIRPS):

HUNTSVILLE, Alabama - There's an urban myth in the rocket world that today's engineers couldn't recreate the mighty Saturn V F-1 engines that took Americans to the moon if they wanted to. Critical technology has been lost, the story goes.

Not exactly true, say today's propulsion experts at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville. Some techniques are no longer available, it's true, but better ones exist.

"Building on the knowledge base left to us by those old-timers," Marshall's Dr. Dale Thomas said Wednesday, "we can today build a better F-1 than they did."

The key to understanding Marshall's new push in propulsion is in the first phrase of that sentence: "Building on the knowledge base left to us."

That's the first thing that Thomas, Marshall's associate director for technical issues, and his boss, center Director Robert Lightfoot, want to do with Marshall's planned new National Institute for Rocket Propulsion systems (NIRPS). They want to preserve today's expertise so it can be there tomorrow.

...

Lightfoot wants the institute to be a "strategic asset" for the country, and he said basing it in Huntsville at Marshall just makes sense. There's already Department of Defense and industry knowledge nearby, and there's the treasure trove at Marshall, NASA's home of propulsion.

This strikes me as a brilliant, common sense idea. If indeed NASA is reverting to more of an R&D business model, less oriented around the sustainment of an operational supply and delivery system, then it strikes me as wise to capture the critical knowledge of propulsion technologies and engineering that produced the systems of the past, to inform the design decisions of the future.

Here's hoping the idea, er, takes off.

A Cacophony and a Horrible Realization

After another mind-numbing day at the office, I arrived home this evening to the sounds of a cadre of concert musicians warming up for a performance in my living room. It was indeed a cacophony of sound, with snare and bells from the percussion family, and a coronet and a trumpet from the brass family. That only three members of my immediate family could alone produce such a sound was remarkable to say the least.

My oldest son has elected to take band this year, and brought home the percussion set. Actually, it is quite remarkable, with his off-the-charts mathematical aptitude and an ear for pitch, he picks up rhythms quite easily, and was playing a selection of music from Harry Potter, the 80's band Europe, and Halloween (a movie he is far to young to see). Almost a natural at piano, I imagine he could play almost anything he wants.

Of course, my younger son wanted to play something too, so my wife got down her trumpet and coronet. Together, they blasted the brass and rattled the windows. Finding that the woodwinds lacked representation, I naturally pulled down my clarinets (I have two) to see if I could still rip a chromatic scale.

Too my horror, and near utter devastation, I couldn't play it cleanly. Not even sort of. The fact that it has been nearly 10 years since I picked up the horn doesn't matter, because to my way of thinking, I should have been able to play a chromatic without a single mis-fingering. Instead, I sounded like 8th grader who skips too many lessons and never practices.

This is no small thing, though you may laugh at my musical misfortune. I am usually not prone to bragging, but in reality I was quite good at the instrument. I've played the clarinet since I was in 5th grade, which was, let's see, 30 years ago (!). I played straight through high school, worked my way to 1st chair, participated in a number of honor bands, solo and ensemble competitions, and so on. I played in symphonic bands and concerts bands. I took a year and half away from it when I started college, but eventually came back to play with the Auburn Symphonic Band, and also with the Auburn University Marching Band until graduation. For the first several years after our marriage, my wife and I would return to play with the alumni at Homecoming. But then came the boys, and life, and I put the music away.

To this day, whenever I hear a piece that I've performed, I am often transported somewhere else, because when I played, it was an experience of total immersion. It's as if I remember every note, every sound, and how my part blends with the whole. Putting that part of me away was a practical, if somewhat unintentional choice. But I've always known that if I chose, I'd be able to pick it up, and continue to play.

Of course, I'm subject to the truth as is everybody else. If you don't practice in 10 years, you're probably going to be a bit rusty. But to be sure, after about 15 minutes, I stopped thinking quite so much and just allowed my fingers to move. The horn needs some repair, but the skill that lies dormant is there to be awakened someday. See there, the illusions I have which were so rudely shattered can once again be reassembled. I feel a little better now.

One thing is for certain. Music (and rhythm) will be returning to our household. And no matter how it sounds in the early going, it will be a symphony to my ears.

New Look

In honor of finally finishing off the bonus room upstairs (other than actually moving in), I decided to keep the renovation spirit going with an upgrade to the blog design. Well, okay, these events actually have nothing to do with each other. Truth is, I was bored with the old look, and some of the features were no longer working correctly due to recent updates by Blogger.

It'll take a little getting used to, but I think I like it.

"Don't You See?"

Ordinarily, I don't enjoy songs with overt political messages. Patriotic, yes. Political, not really. But the feature embedded below (which mind you is audio-only, no video) caught my attention the other day while listening to a podcast, so I figured I'd post it despite its overt message. A message mind you, that I've already expressed here in a number of ways.

The song is entitled "Don't You See?" and was produced for a contest run recently by the folks at Powerline blog. According to their site, it was written by Jason Nyberg and performed by his nine-year-old daughter. Follow the link back to the Powerline post, to read up on the background and to see the lyrics. You can even download the song for your own use there for free. And there's even a chord chart available. They clearly want this to go viral.

It's a fun song, performed well, and I largely agree with the lyrics.



(h/t): Powerline

At Some Point, You Have to Stop Digging

I've shied away from commenting on the debt ceiling circus these past few weeks, mostly out of fear that I'll develop a blood-pressure problem. With so much invective being thrown every which way, I find it hard to keep it all in perspective. For decades, the political class has widened the gulf between it and the citizen class, tinkering with a massive Leviathan it no longer understands, much less knows how to control. Sometimes I wish I could just tune it all out. Easier said than done for a news junkie like me.

Tonight, I read this headline: "US borrowing tops 100% of GDP":

US debt shot up $238 billion to reach 100 percent of gross domestic project after the government's debt ceiling was lifted, Treasury figures showed Wednesday.

What does that mean? It means that our national debt is now greater than or equal to the entire domestic output of our economy. Think about that. As a nation, we owe more than we produce in a year. While not an exact analogy, it is akin to having a personal credit card debt that is greater than your total annual income. It basically puts you at the point that if you don't make changes, you will be unable to keep up in servicing that debt, much less paying it down. Nothing good comes of that. For whatever reason, these people seem to operate under the assumption that you can dig your way out of a hole. Newsflash: it doesn't work that way. You cannot spend your way of out debt.

I've been a part of two corporate downsizings. When your revenue declines, you have to reduce the cost of doing business. The only way to do that is to restructure, and sometimes that restructuring is drastic and painful. You cut big chunks out of your labor, and your business model or market. You divest yourself of non-producing ventures or liabilities.

At some point, I keep hoping that these folks on the hill will figure out that you have to stop digging. That's not going to happen anytime soon, and by the time the next election rolls around, we will be over $2 trillion deeper in debt than we are right now. The debt will increase faster than the cuts they promise will come.

But they just keep digging, singing:

We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig in our mine the whole day through
To dig dig dig dig dig dig dig is what we really like to do

Heigh-ho. Ugh.

Eye-Roll for Hollywood

First they came for the comic books. Then they raided old Saturday morning cartoons. Now, movie makers are going where Hollywood has never gone before …

Board games.

In 2012, Universal Studios will release Battleship, a movie adaptation of the famous Milton Bradley board game (now owned by Hasbro).

If you watch the trailer, it become obvious that this is basically a blow-em-up action flick, where the board game idea somehow meets Transformers or Independence Day, or some other sci-fi storyline with big honking alien spaceships.

It might be a fun movie, although I'm certain it is mindless and devoid of substance. (Not that there's anything wrong with that). But somehow I don't see forking over $8-$10 to watch it.

If Battleship succeeds, will that bring on a flood of new cinematic features based on board games? Sorry! Chutes and Ladders? Risk? Risk, now that would be an epic - you know how long it takes to play the game, can you imagine the movie?

I don't know that I'll bother seeing Battleship, but I might, if only to see if the script includes the line we all know by heart. Because if you are going to make a cheesy movie based on a game, at least go all out, and have Liam Neeson scream at the aliens saying:

"You sank my battleship!"

Rebirth of a Sunday Night Tradition

When I was young, on occasion my mother would declare Sunday nights to be popcorn and ice cream night. A family tradition from her growing up years, the big Sunday meal would be lunch. Supper therefore, was a lighter "meal" that from time to time would consist of freshly popped popcorn and ice cream for dessert. I remember Sunday nights sharing in this double treat, with the Wonderful World of Disney on ABC on television.

We've had a delightful weekend of a few classic live action Disney movies. Last night, we watched one of my favorites, Escape to Witch Mountain, featuring two off-world kids (Tia and Tony) with amazing powers and a knack for getting themselves into trouble. (In those young tender years, I recall having a silly crush on Kim Richards, the child actress who played Tia. Ah, youth.) This afternoon after church, we followed it up with Return to Witch Mountain. Finally, tonight, we declared it a popcorn night (alas, we had no ice cream in the freezer), and put in The Apple Dumpling Gang, with Bill Bixby, Don Knotts, Tim Conway and Harry Morgan. It has been interesting watching our boys discover that Disney used to be more than animation.

What a fun night. And a "tradition" worth continuing. Except next time, I think we need some ice cream. (It's just not the same without the ice cream).

Journey's Dawn

There is a strange dichotomy that afflicts me, riding along these open county roads. It is one that features both peace and lonely isolation. It is as timeless as the day is short, with nothing but the April breeze and the hum of 10-speed tread upon the asphalt. I am alone on the planet, needing to go not where I've been, but rather somewhere I have never been. I am stunned, uncertain how to react to the experience. I have to keep moving, but where? Up ahead lies a road I've never explored, and never felt compelled to survey. Until now.

I turn my eyes to the east, my back to the lowering sun, and take in the new surroundings as they pass by. New, alien, and barren. Remains of winter wheat rustle quietly as the slightest of winds brush across the landscape. I lift my eyes to the hills, such as they are (where does my help come from?). But there is nothing. I am alone on the planet, alone in my mind, and strangely calm in this most unusual of moments. Calm, but seeking, something. Anything. Answers to questions this newly awakened mind is unable to fully form.

Up on the left, a small building appears, standing a ways off the road. Markers are lined up in haphazard rows beside what is revealed to be a church. Lutheran, or so says the sign. I consider pressing on, but with the light beginning to ebb, and the main road that leads home out of sight, I turn in and come to a stop on the dirt lot 10 feet from what I suppose is the front door. The siding is weather worn and dirty, but the humble façade has a quaint appeal to this wandering soul. A cacophony of voices and emotions burst through my brain and just as quickly cease, as if they never were. No one is in sight, a realization that at first terrifies, as peace departs to leave only the isolation. I lean the bike against the fence, and walk toward the door, fearful of making any noise lest I be discovered. Irrational fear maybe, but caution nonetheless.

In that timeless moment, I stood silently before the door. I watched in wonder as my hand extended itself to the weathered handle with the thumb latch, only to be disappointed in the effort. Without warning, my hand came up again, knocking loudly on the locked white barrier keeping me from, from what I don't know. I waited and waited, but access to this solitary sanctuary remained closed. I am alone on the planet, but now, I feel lost. I bowed my head, inwardly pleading, praying to Someone I didn't know, a prayer devoid of words but full of need, and not just for myself. I sensed no response, no answer, no understanding. Just empty winds blowing across my face at the dawn of twilight. I made the effort, and maybe I was heard, but for now the burden was on me. Time to go.

I need to get home, before the darkness without matches the shadow within. There is a long drive ahead of us tomorrow, and I need to get ready.

"For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God." (Romans 8:20-21)

A Portrait of Me: The Key
A Portrait of Me: River Walk
A Portrait of Me: Journey's Dawn
A Portrait of Me: I Am Prodigal

Feel Good Post of the Day

Nice play, young man. Nice play.

Atlantis Arrives

And so it ends, in the darkness of pre-dawn, with far fewer eyes watching. Welcome home, Atlantis.


Not quite 42 years to the day Armstrong set foot on the moon, the U.S. manned space flight program takes a break - duration unknown. For now, I guess, that's a wrap.

Does Everybody Know What Time It Is?

TOOL TIME!

Twenty years ago this fall (20 years!), Home Improvement debuted on ABC. TVLand and Nick-At-Nite used to show syndicated reruns during the summer, but with TVLand now trying to produce new shows, and Nick opting in favor of other (less funny) sitcom options, I may have to resort to DVR to find the antics of the Taylor clan. Among my favorite episodes are those that feature "the guys from K&B Construction." The clip below is from the series finale:


Of course, the musical number that spawned this reprise came from a first season episode called "Stereo-Typical," which unfortunately I cannot embed. But you can see it here.

Good stuff. And maybe worth a timer on the DVR.

A Heartbreaking Fall

My first stop of the day once I sit down at the computer is Yahoo Sports Major League Baseball page. Every day. I check on scores, my fantasy team, and headlines of note. Usually, a little dose of baseball (along with a stiff cup of coffee) sets me up well for the day.

This morning, however, I was greeted with a story that cut quickly and cut deep. Perhaps it is my love of the game, or perhaps it is because it is so easy to identify with a father just trying to create a memory for his young son. I had to close my office door for a minute.

How terribly sad. Thoughts and prayers to the family, and especially to the son.

Godspeed, Atlantis

Weather permitting, the final launch of America's space shuttle program will take place tomorrow. As Atlantis awaits its moment on the pad, the retrospective commentaries have been plentiful. This is particularly true locally, as Huntsville is home to NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center, the heart and brain of NASA's propulsion technologies. Understandably, the final launch of Atlantis - and of the United States' manned space program for the foreseeable future - is sort of a big deal around here.

I am sad that I never managed to get the family down for a launch. I've always wanted to see it live, but the one opportunity we had resulted in a months long launch delay. For all the typical naysaying about the costs and benefits of the shuttle program, the fact that we have made the non-routine seem routine for 30 years is a remarkable achievement.

As for what comes next, it is hard to say. This article in the New York Times talks about the obvious consequence of ending a program: the loss of institutional knowledge and experience. Perhaps some of these will take on with private firms that will help usher in a commercial launch capability. Too soon to tell, I suppose. But losing that capability will have a commensurate cost should we ever decide to go back out there. Arguably, of course, the space program is still active, from a military perspective (the Delta IV is the current workhorse). Private firms are up and running, and NASA is still looking at a deep-space program. But for a while, there will be no launches, no missions to capture the pioneering imagination of the young, and the young-at-heart.

In the near term, any Americans going to space will do so courtesy of the Russians. It is almost a bitter irony, isn't it? They were the first, and while the greatest achievements belong to NASA, the Russians will still be there after we stop flying.

From the confines of my workdesk or the TV at home, I will be watching Atlantis. I will be watching when she lands for the final time following a 12-day mission to the International Space Station. Godspeed, Atlantis, and good luck.

Losing Faith in the System?

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.—That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it; and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.—Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. …

Generations ago, the men we now revere as the founding founders of our Nation lost faith in the system under which each had been born, under which each had been educated, under which each had thrived, and under which they had ultimately been oppressed. At some level, they had to be seriously disillusioned with the hand they had been dealt under a monarchy seeking to maintain control over a distant empire. But they also had a firm grasp of an ideal - notions of natural rights and liberty that is the birthright of every individual. They had to have had a hope and a faith in the potential of such ideals, to propel them through a costly conflict that led to independence.

Modern generations, so we are told, are much less optimistic. In a doom-and-gloom piece out of the Telegraph comes a snapshot of the current "American mood":

With the United States mired in three foreign wars, beaten down by an economy that shows few signs of emerging from deep recession and deeply disillusioned with President Barack Obama, his Republican challengers and Congress, the mood is dark.

The last comparable Fourth of July was probably in 1980, when there was a recession, skyrocketing petrol prices and an Iranian hostage crisis, with 53 Americans being held in Tehran.

Frank Luntz, perhaps America’s pre-eminent pollster, argues that his countrymen are much more downbeat now than in 1980. “The assumption with the Carter years was that it was a failure of the elites, not the system. We thought the people in charge screwed up. We didn’t blame ourselves.” Remarkably, many Americans think things will only get worse and the good times will never return.

A recent New York Times/CBS poll found that 39 per cent think that “the current economic downturn is part of a long-term permanent decline and the economy will never fully recover”. That was up from 28 per cent last October. Last month, a CNN poll found that 48 per cent of Americans believe another Great Depression is somewhat or very likely.

Luntz has found that 44 per cent of Americans believe their country’s best days are in the past, 57 per cent that their children will not achieve the same quality of life, and 53 per cent that they are less free than five years ago. So what is going on? How did the land of the free, the home of the brave, … get into this funk?

Moods are cyclical, and people are cynical. There is nothing particularly newsworthy about that, nor this article. One paragraph further down did catch my eye, though, and has a ring of truth to it:

But Americans do not just blame Obama; and the national malaise is to do with far more than one president. “Every institution in America has gone through a collapse,” says Luntz. “The Church is not what it was, thanks to all those religious scandals, the media is much less trusted today than it was 20 or 30 years ago. Big business does not have credibility.”

It does strike me that we as a people have lost some faith in our institutions - government, church, and corporatism. This faith crisis goes beyond the notable scandals involving individuals within these institutions. People are fallible, and while we all know that, we still expect people to respect the processes and the rules that enable society's institutions to function. When the process is ignored, or bypassed, or otherwise unenforced, we lose trust. Trust lost is rarely regained. What may be happening now, however, it something far more systemic and as such, existentially serious.

In a must-read piece at Defining Ideas, William Damon writes of a serious decline in academic proficiency in the subject of civics. Students are being groomed to be "citizens of the world," rather than girding them with the fundamentals of a free society and the functions of American citizenship and the institutions we've celebrated for 200 years.

For the past ten years or more, virtually every glimpse into American students' views on citizenship has revealed both a lack of understanding and a lack of interest. An American Enterprise Institute study earlier this year found that most social studies teachers doubted that their students grasped core U.S. citizenship concepts such as the Bill of Rights or the separation of powers. A recent Department of Education study found that only nine percent of U.S. high school students are able to cite reasons why it is important for citizens to participate in a democracy, and only six percent are able to identify reasons why having a constitution benefits a country. The Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement (CIRCLE) has reported a decades-long, step-wise decline in interest in political affairs among college freshmen—from over 60 percent of the population in 1966 to less than half that percentage in our current period.

But the problem goes beyond apparent deficiencies in curriculum or general disinterest:

Beyond not knowing what U.S. citizenship entails, many young Americans today are not motivated to learn about how to become a fully engaged citizen of their country. They simply do not care about their status as American citizens. Notions such as civic virtue, civic duty, or devotion to their country mean little to them. This is not true of all young people today—there are exceptions in virtually every community—but it accurately describes a growing trend that encompasses a large portion of our younger generation.

This trend has not arisen in isolation. Indeed, the attitudes of many young Americans are closely aligned with intellectual positions that they likely have never encountered first-hand. In our leading intellectual and educational circles, the entire notion of national devotion is now in dispute. For example, in a book about the future of citizenship, a law professor recently wrote: "Longstanding notions of democratic citizenship are becoming obsolete …American identity is unsustainable in the face of globalization." As a replacement for commitment to a nation-state, the author wrote, "loyalties…are moving to transnational communities defined by many different ways: by race, ethnicity, gender, religion, age, and sexual orientation." In similar fashion, many influential educators are turning to "cosmopolitanism" and "global citizenship" as the proper aim of civics instruction, de-emphasizing the attachment to any particular country such as the United States. As global citizens, it is argued, our primary identification should be with the humanity of the world, and our primary obligation should be to the universal ideals of human rights and justice. Devotion to one's own nation state, commonly referred to as patriotism, is suspect because it may turn into a militant chauvinism or a dangerous "my country right or wrong" perspective.

Moods are largely emotional responses to our perceptions of our circumstances. Sometimes, those perceptions are on the mark; other times, they fall victim to a skewed perspective. In time, the national mood may very well swing back to a more positive and optimistic posture. The greater danger, however, is any further deterioration in the operational and philosophical understanding of the democratic institutions that have enabled us to survive as a largely free society for 235 years. If the upcoming generations lack both faith and knowledge, the decline of America as we know it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Future generations may well find an America that resembles the chains our forefathers cast off, leading them to form a new government.

Human history is full of such cycles. Moods change. Values change. Circumstances change. And despite the general tone of this post, far be it from me to even suggest that America is already lost. Far from it. The face of America may change, but the unalienable rights we share - the heart of the American idea - still beats within us. The future hasn't been written yet, and it is within us to shape the trends, if we have the will to do so.

We celebrate today, and that's as it should be. May we also remember why.