I have a meeting tomorrow night that folks were considering canceling, though it is a vital meeting, because the UConn woman would be playing for the national championship.
I'm sure others in CT had that thought about Tues. night meetings. As did folks in northern California--especially because the UConn/Stanford game would begin at 7:30 p.m. Pacific time.
Well, my meeting and all the meetings in CT and CA will happen on time. It will be Notre Dame and (gasp!) Texas A&M.
It's really the best thing that could happen for women's basketball. Though most people want to see UConn, Stanford, Tennesee, Baylor, Duke--it is a good thing to have two teams noone would have predicted play for the title.
Same with the men's game: no Duke/Ohio State final this year. Butler (go Bulldogs!!!) vs. the team that finished 9th of 16 in the Big East. OK, that is UConn, big name school, but who would have thunk it???
Love March Madness--been really 'mad' this year....
Monday, April 4, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Things I miss....
(By the way, I gave the heresy test to the 50 people in the Mary Magdalene class today. All but three believe in the 'immortality of the soul'. Gnostic heretics all!!!)
It's now been 11 months since I retired after 21 years as Rector of St. John's, Waterbury. I really love being retired, but there are some things I miss. Here are the top 10.
10. I miss the building. The little churches where I am presiding now are fine, but St. John's is a neo-Gothic marvel. I used to sit in the nave and watch the light change as afternoon came.
9. Besides the grandeur of the building, I miss the drop dead beauty of the windows--Tiffany and otherwise--they are imprinted on my heart. Stained glass was invented to 'tell the story' to the illiterate masses. What a story St. John's windows tell....
8. I miss the soup kitchen: the people who worked there and the patrons as well. I'd wander through from time to time and after two decades recognized every face and knew a lot of names. I also miss all the other groups that used the buildings that were part of our 'ministry of Space'. I miss them.
7. I miss the people from the parish who would just 'drop in' during the week--some with things to do and others just to say 'hi'.
6. I miss all the talking and listening I did. I live a much quieter life now--I'm on 'mute' a lot more than I was. I talk to Bern (but we've been talking since I was 17 and she was 14 {cradle robber, I know....}) and I talk to the dog, the cat and the birds. But for over 20 years I talked to and listened to dozens of people a day. I miss that.
5. I miss the kids in the chorister academy. They came in twice a week to rehearse and I would sit with them in the library and try to figure out what makes teens tick. I never did, but it was fun trying. I also miss all the myriad of kids who were in and out and around in Church School and other ways.
4. I miss Pauline and her outrageousness and all the quirky, weird, strange people that end up wandering through an urban church. I miss getting caught up in all that made them quirky or weird or strange. Cheshire is, except for one of two folks, the epicenter of normal-ness. I miss the abnormal--or paranormal, if you will.
3. I actually, from time to time--not always--miss the meetings I had to go to. I kinda like meetings, the process of it all, the give and take, the wondering and pondering that went on. Even the spats people sometimes had. I'm a fool for a good spat....
2. I miss the staff enormously. It took me 20 years to 'get it right' and to surround myself with people smarter and more creative than I was so I could watch their backs and leave them pretty much alone. The staff on the day I retired was a work of art, a 'dream team', people I loved profoundly who were all exceedingly good at what they did and contributed. I miss them.
And the number 1 thing I miss about St. John's is simply this: those good and lovely and oh-so-human and oh-so-lovable people. The Hispanic congregation, the 8 o'clock folks, the people who came to Adult Forum, the incredible folks at the Wednesday Eucharist, the 10:15 crowd, the Vestry and the Christmas and Easter folks. I miss them all, I really do. I really do, believe me....
It's now been 11 months since I retired after 21 years as Rector of St. John's, Waterbury. I really love being retired, but there are some things I miss. Here are the top 10.
10. I miss the building. The little churches where I am presiding now are fine, but St. John's is a neo-Gothic marvel. I used to sit in the nave and watch the light change as afternoon came.
9. Besides the grandeur of the building, I miss the drop dead beauty of the windows--Tiffany and otherwise--they are imprinted on my heart. Stained glass was invented to 'tell the story' to the illiterate masses. What a story St. John's windows tell....
8. I miss the soup kitchen: the people who worked there and the patrons as well. I'd wander through from time to time and after two decades recognized every face and knew a lot of names. I also miss all the other groups that used the buildings that were part of our 'ministry of Space'. I miss them.
7. I miss the people from the parish who would just 'drop in' during the week--some with things to do and others just to say 'hi'.
6. I miss all the talking and listening I did. I live a much quieter life now--I'm on 'mute' a lot more than I was. I talk to Bern (but we've been talking since I was 17 and she was 14 {cradle robber, I know....}) and I talk to the dog, the cat and the birds. But for over 20 years I talked to and listened to dozens of people a day. I miss that.
5. I miss the kids in the chorister academy. They came in twice a week to rehearse and I would sit with them in the library and try to figure out what makes teens tick. I never did, but it was fun trying. I also miss all the myriad of kids who were in and out and around in Church School and other ways.
4. I miss Pauline and her outrageousness and all the quirky, weird, strange people that end up wandering through an urban church. I miss getting caught up in all that made them quirky or weird or strange. Cheshire is, except for one of two folks, the epicenter of normal-ness. I miss the abnormal--or paranormal, if you will.
3. I actually, from time to time--not always--miss the meetings I had to go to. I kinda like meetings, the process of it all, the give and take, the wondering and pondering that went on. Even the spats people sometimes had. I'm a fool for a good spat....
2. I miss the staff enormously. It took me 20 years to 'get it right' and to surround myself with people smarter and more creative than I was so I could watch their backs and leave them pretty much alone. The staff on the day I retired was a work of art, a 'dream team', people I loved profoundly who were all exceedingly good at what they did and contributed. I miss them.
And the number 1 thing I miss about St. John's is simply this: those good and lovely and oh-so-human and oh-so-lovable people. The Hispanic congregation, the 8 o'clock folks, the people who came to Adult Forum, the incredible folks at the Wednesday Eucharist, the 10:15 crowd, the Vestry and the Christmas and Easter folks. I miss them all, I really do. I really do, believe me....
Thursday, March 31, 2011
I don't have bladder cancer
I'm not sure if I shared this with you, and I'm too lazy to go look at past blogs, but I don't have bladder cancer.
The biopsy came back negative. The thing in my bladder (It's late at night...do you know what's in your bladder?) that I've described as looking like a peony (PE-o-nee in this part of creation, pe-OWN-ne where I come from) is still there, I suppose, but my urologist tells me 'not to worry'. So I won't.
I only knew one person who died of bladder cancer. His name was John Martin and he was a funeral director. It was, it seems to me, a terrible way to die--as if there were a good way--and I pray for the repose of John's soul as I give thanks the biopsy coming back negative.
Speaking of souls: tomorrow in my class on the Gospel of Mary of Magdala at UConn I'm going to try to deal with the world view in 1st century Israel as a way of getting to the fertile soil that gave birth to Christianity in all it's myriad forms. The question I'm going to ask, since I'm going to try to discuss all the heresies of the pre-Nicene church is this: do you believe in the immortality of the soul? I'm betting half or more of the class will say 'yes' and I'm going to tell them, truthfully, that they are heretics. Orthodox Christians, according to the Nicene Creed, believe in the "resurrection of the dead", not 'the immortality of the soul'. That was one of the things the Creed was written to make heretical. (The purpose of creeds in general is to make sure we DON'T believe certain things rather than telling us what to believe.) The whole 'God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God, begotten not made" piece was because lots of early Christians didn't believe Jesus was co-eternal with the Father. The beginning of the Creed "I/we believe in ONE GOD" was because lots of early Christians believed there was the God of Creation, the Jewish God, the Demiurge and then there was the 'good god' who was Jesus' father. The Old Testament God, for lots of early Christians, didn't map or match up with the message of Jesus...so, the Creator must have been some different god than the God and Father of Jesus. Think about it. Not crazy....but heretical. (The victors write the history--just as in Christianity, the stream of the faith that became the 'authorized religion' of the Roman Empire was the winner--that Nicene Church wrote the history of the faith.)
But the discovery at Nag Hammadi, in Egypt less than a century ago, of a treasure of so called Gnostic Christian writings, including the Gospel of Mary Madelene, through the scholars of the early church into a tizzy. It's not what we learned in Sunday school.
Had the so called Gnostic Christians prevailed, believing in the immortality of the soul would be orthodox Christian belief. But they didn't win...though most Christians today would agree with them that we have a soul and it is immortal, heretics that we are....
I'll let you know if my prediction of over 50% heretics is accurate.
You might be one as well....
The biopsy came back negative. The thing in my bladder (It's late at night...do you know what's in your bladder?) that I've described as looking like a peony (PE-o-nee in this part of creation, pe-OWN-ne where I come from) is still there, I suppose, but my urologist tells me 'not to worry'. So I won't.
I only knew one person who died of bladder cancer. His name was John Martin and he was a funeral director. It was, it seems to me, a terrible way to die--as if there were a good way--and I pray for the repose of John's soul as I give thanks the biopsy coming back negative.
Speaking of souls: tomorrow in my class on the Gospel of Mary of Magdala at UConn I'm going to try to deal with the world view in 1st century Israel as a way of getting to the fertile soil that gave birth to Christianity in all it's myriad forms. The question I'm going to ask, since I'm going to try to discuss all the heresies of the pre-Nicene church is this: do you believe in the immortality of the soul? I'm betting half or more of the class will say 'yes' and I'm going to tell them, truthfully, that they are heretics. Orthodox Christians, according to the Nicene Creed, believe in the "resurrection of the dead", not 'the immortality of the soul'. That was one of the things the Creed was written to make heretical. (The purpose of creeds in general is to make sure we DON'T believe certain things rather than telling us what to believe.) The whole 'God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God, begotten not made" piece was because lots of early Christians didn't believe Jesus was co-eternal with the Father. The beginning of the Creed "I/we believe in ONE GOD" was because lots of early Christians believed there was the God of Creation, the Jewish God, the Demiurge and then there was the 'good god' who was Jesus' father. The Old Testament God, for lots of early Christians, didn't map or match up with the message of Jesus...so, the Creator must have been some different god than the God and Father of Jesus. Think about it. Not crazy....but heretical. (The victors write the history--just as in Christianity, the stream of the faith that became the 'authorized religion' of the Roman Empire was the winner--that Nicene Church wrote the history of the faith.)
But the discovery at Nag Hammadi, in Egypt less than a century ago, of a treasure of so called Gnostic Christian writings, including the Gospel of Mary Madelene, through the scholars of the early church into a tizzy. It's not what we learned in Sunday school.
Had the so called Gnostic Christians prevailed, believing in the immortality of the soul would be orthodox Christian belief. But they didn't win...though most Christians today would agree with them that we have a soul and it is immortal, heretics that we are....
I'll let you know if my prediction of over 50% heretics is accurate.
You might be one as well....
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
an assortment of things
Someone told me this morning I hadn't put anything on my blog for a week. Well, she was off by a day or so, but anyway, this one is for D. Love it or leave it.
I know that I've mentioned before that I see myself as the 'norm' of human life. I am the one who is in the center of the road. I am the one whose opinions and thoughts are the opinions and thoughts of the multitudes. That's one way I see myself.
I also know that I am so far to the left both politically and theologically that I often scare myself.
How those two thoughts can reside in one brain I will leave you to ponder. But it is the truth: I am so liberal it makes even me crazy AND I think I'm the medium and the mean--the norm in this culture.
When Obama was elected I was elated, beside myself with joy, at peace with my normative existence. I was in the majority, as I always knew I was....But then, after the initial joy, I got nervous. I'm not used to being in the 'majority'. I don't know how to 'win gracefully' since most of the time I'm on the losing side. That's the problem with thinking you are the norm and knowing you are so far to the left on most things that an interment camp would be a blessing if Sarah Palin was President...most likely, I'd be eliminated ultimately.
*Would Mexico take Texas back if we offered? The legislature down there in the Evil Empire is considering a bill that would deny citizenship to children born of non--citizens. What in the hell are they thinking? Also, a bill that would not allow a child to come to school if they couldn't prove their citizenship. Let's take down the statue of Liberty and let it sink in the ocean. Texas is my recommendation for, if we ever do it, a 'surgical nuke'. 'Huddled masses longing to be free' don't bother considering Texas....
*It's Trash Day in my part of Cheshire. I love, absolutely love, Trash Day. All is well. God is in his heaven and all is right with the world. (I had to correct my typing. I wrote "Todd is in his heaven..." I'm not sure I've ever known anyone named Todd. But if I did, I'd recommend him for deity duty.
Trash Day gives order to the chaotic universe. I take out the trash and the recycle stuff and put it carefully on the edge of the front yard. When I walk the dog on Trash Day, he sniffs everyone's trash on our block. It makes us a community in a way. We all have trash. I actually notice who has more trash than recycle stuff. Trash Day gives us a chance to either be humble (more trash than recycle) or be mistakenly proud. Either way there is something to ponder.
A friend of mine today told me about a recent bowel movement. I thought we were in the nursing home, sharing elimination stories. I recently had a bladder biopsy--negative, I'm thankful to say--but it made me terribly aware of elimination.
Two old guys are sitting in wheel chairs in the lobby of the nursing home.
One says to the other, "I wish I could remember how old I am."
The other guy says, "stand up and drop your pants and I'll tell you."
So the first guy, wondering how old he is, stands up and drops his pants making the aides and visitors and residents freak out.
After he's re-dressed and in his chair, the other guy says, "You're 87."
The man who exposed himself asks, "how could you know?"
The other guy says, "you told me yesterday...."
Sometimes you are the one who drops your pants in public, in a metaphorical way, of course. And sometimes you are the one who makes another expose themselves for no real purpose. (Another metaphor, of course.) We might be well served pondering those moment in our lives from both directions. Just a thought.
I know that I've mentioned before that I see myself as the 'norm' of human life. I am the one who is in the center of the road. I am the one whose opinions and thoughts are the opinions and thoughts of the multitudes. That's one way I see myself.
I also know that I am so far to the left both politically and theologically that I often scare myself.
How those two thoughts can reside in one brain I will leave you to ponder. But it is the truth: I am so liberal it makes even me crazy AND I think I'm the medium and the mean--the norm in this culture.
When Obama was elected I was elated, beside myself with joy, at peace with my normative existence. I was in the majority, as I always knew I was....But then, after the initial joy, I got nervous. I'm not used to being in the 'majority'. I don't know how to 'win gracefully' since most of the time I'm on the losing side. That's the problem with thinking you are the norm and knowing you are so far to the left on most things that an interment camp would be a blessing if Sarah Palin was President...most likely, I'd be eliminated ultimately.
*Would Mexico take Texas back if we offered? The legislature down there in the Evil Empire is considering a bill that would deny citizenship to children born of non--citizens. What in the hell are they thinking? Also, a bill that would not allow a child to come to school if they couldn't prove their citizenship. Let's take down the statue of Liberty and let it sink in the ocean. Texas is my recommendation for, if we ever do it, a 'surgical nuke'. 'Huddled masses longing to be free' don't bother considering Texas....
*It's Trash Day in my part of Cheshire. I love, absolutely love, Trash Day. All is well. God is in his heaven and all is right with the world. (I had to correct my typing. I wrote "Todd is in his heaven..." I'm not sure I've ever known anyone named Todd. But if I did, I'd recommend him for deity duty.
Trash Day gives order to the chaotic universe. I take out the trash and the recycle stuff and put it carefully on the edge of the front yard. When I walk the dog on Trash Day, he sniffs everyone's trash on our block. It makes us a community in a way. We all have trash. I actually notice who has more trash than recycle stuff. Trash Day gives us a chance to either be humble (more trash than recycle) or be mistakenly proud. Either way there is something to ponder.
A friend of mine today told me about a recent bowel movement. I thought we were in the nursing home, sharing elimination stories. I recently had a bladder biopsy--negative, I'm thankful to say--but it made me terribly aware of elimination.
Two old guys are sitting in wheel chairs in the lobby of the nursing home.
One says to the other, "I wish I could remember how old I am."
The other guy says, "stand up and drop your pants and I'll tell you."
So the first guy, wondering how old he is, stands up and drops his pants making the aides and visitors and residents freak out.
After he's re-dressed and in his chair, the other guy says, "You're 87."
The man who exposed himself asks, "how could you know?"
The other guy says, "you told me yesterday...."
Sometimes you are the one who drops your pants in public, in a metaphorical way, of course. And sometimes you are the one who makes another expose themselves for no real purpose. (Another metaphor, of course.) We might be well served pondering those moment in our lives from both directions. Just a thought.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
More subtle and yet more kind
I was just out on our back deck, looking through our back yard to the brick house 100 yards away or so. It might have been that the neighbor's red mini-van was parked in the driveway that caused me to notice that the bricks on the side of the house appeared to be a full face view of GHW Bush--the good Dad of the wayward son, W. I'd never noticed that before but it was unmistakable to me. I decided to make sure I see it again before I show it to my wife and ask her if she sees it too.
Good thing it looked like the first President Bush rather than Jesus. Jesus has this eerie way of showing up on buildings and pancakes and tuna sandwiches. Then people start showing up with their rosaries waiting for the apparition to bleed from the forehead. Jesus' mother shows up like this more often than her good son. I know you've all read about such things--the BVM outlined by a grease stain or rust from a gutter or the burned spots on a grilled bun. Places like that. I've even seen and wish I had ordered, little presses of Jesus and Mary that you can use to put their likenesses on sandwiches of your own.
Those appearances always seem to make the news and a quickly disappear from the public's consciousness. It would be kind of neat, I think, if we had a God that used bricks and rust and burnt bread to give us views of Mary and Jesus. But, in the end, I don't think we have that kind of God. That seems a little show-offish for God to be involved with. God, it seems to me at any rate, is more subtle than to be revealed in tea leaves at the bottom of your cup.
My friend, Dan Kiger, and I used to play gin rummy in his room in Divinity Hall at Harvard several afternoons a week. I always sat in the same chair, facing the wall where Dan had what I saw as a stylized Asian print made up of black dots on white paper. I looked at it every day but never asked why he had it. Then one day, another student came in to borrow typing paper or something and said, "Neat picture of Jesus" while pointing to the print.
When he was gone I strained my eyes but all I saw were dots.
"Jesus?" I asked Dan, pointing to the dots.
He stood up and put his finger on one particular dot. "That's his right eye," he said, and in less than a nano-second, there was Jesus leaping out from the dots at me. I could never NOT see him again. The print just wouldn't revert to random black dots.
Like I said, more subtle than we might imagine.
The pseudo-prophetic poppycock of some religious leaders recently about God's being engaged in punishing people through natural disasters is even more disturbing than finding the Virgin Mary in the frosting on your honey bun. The logical extension of believing the earthquake hit Haiti as God's judgment on Voo-doo (the opinion expressed by Pat Robertson and others) is the Constitutionally protected rights of those idiots--check that, "evil idiots" from Kansas to demonstrate at military funerals and claim dead soldiers are God's judgment on the US for homosexuality. I keep waiting for the explanation for the earthquake and tsunami in Japan as God's vengeance for some sin or another.
That is a totally un-subtle kind of Deity, wiping out infidels for affronts to Holy Law of some kind or another. It may be helpful to remember that a real OT prophet encountered God not in earthquake or storm or fire, but in a 'still small voice'--or, as that could reasonably be translated, I'm told: "total silence".
Hearing God in the 'total silence', now there's a fine bit of subtlety.
And whenever I heard talk of some obviously vengeful God I realize that God is not only very subtle but kinder than subtle. Bad stuff happens--not because God causes it to happen--but, in fact, because God chose to allow natural law and free will to be part of the Creation. God's reaction to horrible stuff, I believe, is profound mourning, holy sorrow, eternal tears.
The fact that Pat Robertson and his ilk aren't blown to smithereens for outlandish assumptions about God (something I for one would find refreshing!) demonstrates the extent of God's kindness. God, it seems to me, doesn't hate stupid and evil people the way I do. I suppose, in fact, that God's compassion for them is greater than they imagine...or can imagine....
natural disasters etc and tv evangelists
more suble and more kind
Good thing it looked like the first President Bush rather than Jesus. Jesus has this eerie way of showing up on buildings and pancakes and tuna sandwiches. Then people start showing up with their rosaries waiting for the apparition to bleed from the forehead. Jesus' mother shows up like this more often than her good son. I know you've all read about such things--the BVM outlined by a grease stain or rust from a gutter or the burned spots on a grilled bun. Places like that. I've even seen and wish I had ordered, little presses of Jesus and Mary that you can use to put their likenesses on sandwiches of your own.
Those appearances always seem to make the news and a quickly disappear from the public's consciousness. It would be kind of neat, I think, if we had a God that used bricks and rust and burnt bread to give us views of Mary and Jesus. But, in the end, I don't think we have that kind of God. That seems a little show-offish for God to be involved with. God, it seems to me at any rate, is more subtle than to be revealed in tea leaves at the bottom of your cup.
My friend, Dan Kiger, and I used to play gin rummy in his room in Divinity Hall at Harvard several afternoons a week. I always sat in the same chair, facing the wall where Dan had what I saw as a stylized Asian print made up of black dots on white paper. I looked at it every day but never asked why he had it. Then one day, another student came in to borrow typing paper or something and said, "Neat picture of Jesus" while pointing to the print.
When he was gone I strained my eyes but all I saw were dots.
"Jesus?" I asked Dan, pointing to the dots.
He stood up and put his finger on one particular dot. "That's his right eye," he said, and in less than a nano-second, there was Jesus leaping out from the dots at me. I could never NOT see him again. The print just wouldn't revert to random black dots.
Like I said, more subtle than we might imagine.
The pseudo-prophetic poppycock of some religious leaders recently about God's being engaged in punishing people through natural disasters is even more disturbing than finding the Virgin Mary in the frosting on your honey bun. The logical extension of believing the earthquake hit Haiti as God's judgment on Voo-doo (the opinion expressed by Pat Robertson and others) is the Constitutionally protected rights of those idiots--check that, "evil idiots" from Kansas to demonstrate at military funerals and claim dead soldiers are God's judgment on the US for homosexuality. I keep waiting for the explanation for the earthquake and tsunami in Japan as God's vengeance for some sin or another.
That is a totally un-subtle kind of Deity, wiping out infidels for affronts to Holy Law of some kind or another. It may be helpful to remember that a real OT prophet encountered God not in earthquake or storm or fire, but in a 'still small voice'--or, as that could reasonably be translated, I'm told: "total silence".
Hearing God in the 'total silence', now there's a fine bit of subtlety.
And whenever I heard talk of some obviously vengeful God I realize that God is not only very subtle but kinder than subtle. Bad stuff happens--not because God causes it to happen--but, in fact, because God chose to allow natural law and free will to be part of the Creation. God's reaction to horrible stuff, I believe, is profound mourning, holy sorrow, eternal tears.
The fact that Pat Robertson and his ilk aren't blown to smithereens for outlandish assumptions about God (something I for one would find refreshing!) demonstrates the extent of God's kindness. God, it seems to me, doesn't hate stupid and evil people the way I do. I suppose, in fact, that God's compassion for them is greater than they imagine...or can imagine....
natural disasters etc and tv evangelists
more suble and more kind
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Pulled Pork
I had that feeling you get, that something is under your fingernail. So I pulled it out with my bottom teeth--I used to be a nail biter but no more--and said, "Hum, that's tasty...."
It tasted good in spite of the slight taste of soap. I had washed my hands after I pulled the pork from the leftovers of a pork tenderloin to make barbecue .
Pork barbecue is a comfort food for me. I grew up north of the 'Barbecue Belt'--which is not unlike the 'Bible Belt'--from Southern Virginia, the Carolina's and every thing south and south west of that, including, unfortunately, Texas. (Could we, do you think, give Texas back to Mexico? Not only would we be rid of one of the most annoying states, we'd send the Dallas Cowboys and the San Antonio Spurs out of the country. Besides Notre Dame, those are the two sports teams I hate the most.)
When we are on Oak Island, NC every September, there is a place called The Barbecue Shack where our daughter Mimi and her companion, Tim, go a couple of times. They bring home both chopped and pulled pork, slaw and sauces--a vinegar based sauce, a tomato based sauce (what we call "Barbecue Sauce") and a mustard based sauce. The pork is naked and pure, either pulled or chopped. You add the sauce.
I actually like the vinegar sauce the best. And the slaw is outstanding. (Cultural difference alert: where I come from and all places south of there, chopped cabbage and whatever else is in it, is called 'slaw'. In New England, to be understood, I have to say 'cole slaw'. For the longest time I thought I had to say "cold slaw" though I couldn't imagine for a moment why anyone would eat 'hot slaw' or even room temperature slaw. And the first time I asked someone at a hotdog place to give me a dog with chili and slaw they stared at me like I spoke Slovakian. I finally got what I wanted, but they gave me the slaw in a little cup, somehow it offended their sense of dignity to put the slaw on the hot dog--on top of the chili, in case your wondering. Where I come from, the most common hot dog has chili and slaw on it. How have I lived so long in such an alien land?)
I prefer pulled pork, others prefer chopped. Who knows? It's BBQ after all.
Comfort food is necessary because I have a procedure tomorrow which involves putting a camera, a light, a water source and a tiny tweezers into my bladder.
I'll wait a moment for any men who read this to realize what that means.....Yes, it is that horrible.
I, mercifully, won't be awake and will be fine a few hours later. But the very thought of what will be done to me tomorrow makes me weak in the knees and want to empty my bowels....
I'll let you know how it was.
Pulled pork overcomes a multitude of fears....
It tasted good in spite of the slight taste of soap. I had washed my hands after I pulled the pork from the leftovers of a pork tenderloin to make barbecue .
Pork barbecue is a comfort food for me. I grew up north of the 'Barbecue Belt'--which is not unlike the 'Bible Belt'--from Southern Virginia, the Carolina's and every thing south and south west of that, including, unfortunately, Texas. (Could we, do you think, give Texas back to Mexico? Not only would we be rid of one of the most annoying states, we'd send the Dallas Cowboys and the San Antonio Spurs out of the country. Besides Notre Dame, those are the two sports teams I hate the most.)
When we are on Oak Island, NC every September, there is a place called The Barbecue Shack where our daughter Mimi and her companion, Tim, go a couple of times. They bring home both chopped and pulled pork, slaw and sauces--a vinegar based sauce, a tomato based sauce (what we call "Barbecue Sauce") and a mustard based sauce. The pork is naked and pure, either pulled or chopped. You add the sauce.
I actually like the vinegar sauce the best. And the slaw is outstanding. (Cultural difference alert: where I come from and all places south of there, chopped cabbage and whatever else is in it, is called 'slaw'. In New England, to be understood, I have to say 'cole slaw'. For the longest time I thought I had to say "cold slaw" though I couldn't imagine for a moment why anyone would eat 'hot slaw' or even room temperature slaw. And the first time I asked someone at a hotdog place to give me a dog with chili and slaw they stared at me like I spoke Slovakian. I finally got what I wanted, but they gave me the slaw in a little cup, somehow it offended their sense of dignity to put the slaw on the hot dog--on top of the chili, in case your wondering. Where I come from, the most common hot dog has chili and slaw on it. How have I lived so long in such an alien land?)
I prefer pulled pork, others prefer chopped. Who knows? It's BBQ after all.
Comfort food is necessary because I have a procedure tomorrow which involves putting a camera, a light, a water source and a tiny tweezers into my bladder.
I'll wait a moment for any men who read this to realize what that means.....Yes, it is that horrible.
I, mercifully, won't be awake and will be fine a few hours later. But the very thought of what will be done to me tomorrow makes me weak in the knees and want to empty my bowels....
I'll let you know how it was.
Pulled pork overcomes a multitude of fears....
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Addiction
I just went out on my back porch to smoke a cigarette--I know, I know, I shouldn't!--but before I did, I turned on the light on the back porch.
Lord knows, you don't have to see to smoke, but I don't know if it is possible for me not to automatically turn on a light wherever space I go into.
Electricity is a drug. And we are all addicted.
The unthinkable horror that is Japan today has been deflected from the horrific loss of life and made into a debate over nuclear energy because of the damage to the nuclear plant in the northeastern part of that wondrous country.
I listened to a radio clip from Glen Beck tonight where he said "I'm not saying it was God that caused the earthquake...but I'm not NOT saying that either...." So, in case you haven't been paying attention, Glen Beck has out-Pat Robertson Pat Robertson (he who said the earthquake in Haiti was God's judgment on Voodoo.)
I also watched a video clip where an economic analyst said something about the astonishing tragedy of Japan like "at this point the human loss is greater than the loss to the stock market and we can be thankful for that."
So, if I weigh in on this subject there is little chance that I can say something that can be worse than those two comments.
First of all, the death toll in Japan, I expect, will rival Hiroshima. There are tens of thousands of people who are missing, whole villages gone, the island moved several feet on the face of the earth, the axis of the planet shifted by the force. This will be, I think, the worst natural disaster in recorded history. Pray for the people of Japan.
Since nuclear energy got dragged into this, I will probably shock both my liberal and conservative friends by saying I believe we should build nuclear power plants as fast as we can.
Unless they are built somewhere that will have an 8,9 Ricther scale earthquake and a subsequent sunami, it is by far the most fesable way to produce the drug of electricity we are so addicted to.
Remember this: until the end of the 19th century, most of the world was lit by fire. A lot of the world still is. But as soon as any part of the world experiences the rush of electricity, they are hooked on that drug forever.
Coal, natural gas and oil are horrible ways to produce the drug we all need. Greenhouse and Global Climate Change are the trade offs. Solar and Wind are available but prohibitatively expensive at this point.
Nuclear power plants make a huge mess when something goes wrong. But the technology is there to build them safely--or as safe as is possible absent astonishingly powerful earthquakes and 25 foot walls of water.
The problem with nuclear plants is they must be built near large bodies of water to provide the cooling necessary. No C02 is released by the process but the water is warmed that is used for the cooling. Build some on the New England shoreline, the water is always too cold to swim in for me.
Granted, everything I know about nuclear energy I've learned from Public Radio--which is far and wide considered a voice for the left wing and the Democratic Party. But I ask, what's the problem with that???
Let's bracket the 'energy conversation' and concentrate on the human loss in Japan. That's what really matters, not our addiction to electricity.
(Plus, don't tell a boy from the coal fields that 'producing energy' is ever without danger and the loss of life. We need some EA groups--Electricity Addicts--12 step groups....)
Lord knows, you don't have to see to smoke, but I don't know if it is possible for me not to automatically turn on a light wherever space I go into.
Electricity is a drug. And we are all addicted.
The unthinkable horror that is Japan today has been deflected from the horrific loss of life and made into a debate over nuclear energy because of the damage to the nuclear plant in the northeastern part of that wondrous country.
I listened to a radio clip from Glen Beck tonight where he said "I'm not saying it was God that caused the earthquake...but I'm not NOT saying that either...." So, in case you haven't been paying attention, Glen Beck has out-Pat Robertson Pat Robertson (he who said the earthquake in Haiti was God's judgment on Voodoo.)
I also watched a video clip where an economic analyst said something about the astonishing tragedy of Japan like "at this point the human loss is greater than the loss to the stock market and we can be thankful for that."
So, if I weigh in on this subject there is little chance that I can say something that can be worse than those two comments.
First of all, the death toll in Japan, I expect, will rival Hiroshima. There are tens of thousands of people who are missing, whole villages gone, the island moved several feet on the face of the earth, the axis of the planet shifted by the force. This will be, I think, the worst natural disaster in recorded history. Pray for the people of Japan.
Since nuclear energy got dragged into this, I will probably shock both my liberal and conservative friends by saying I believe we should build nuclear power plants as fast as we can.
Unless they are built somewhere that will have an 8,9 Ricther scale earthquake and a subsequent sunami, it is by far the most fesable way to produce the drug of electricity we are so addicted to.
Remember this: until the end of the 19th century, most of the world was lit by fire. A lot of the world still is. But as soon as any part of the world experiences the rush of electricity, they are hooked on that drug forever.
Coal, natural gas and oil are horrible ways to produce the drug we all need. Greenhouse and Global Climate Change are the trade offs. Solar and Wind are available but prohibitatively expensive at this point.
Nuclear power plants make a huge mess when something goes wrong. But the technology is there to build them safely--or as safe as is possible absent astonishingly powerful earthquakes and 25 foot walls of water.
The problem with nuclear plants is they must be built near large bodies of water to provide the cooling necessary. No C02 is released by the process but the water is warmed that is used for the cooling. Build some on the New England shoreline, the water is always too cold to swim in for me.
Granted, everything I know about nuclear energy I've learned from Public Radio--which is far and wide considered a voice for the left wing and the Democratic Party. But I ask, what's the problem with that???
Let's bracket the 'energy conversation' and concentrate on the human loss in Japan. That's what really matters, not our addiction to electricity.
(Plus, don't tell a boy from the coal fields that 'producing energy' is ever without danger and the loss of life. We need some EA groups--Electricity Addicts--12 step groups....)
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