Every month for 21 years, I wrote an essay for 'The Outrider', St. John's in Waterbury's monthly newsletter. My essay was called, 'The View from Above the Close' because my third floor and then second floor office looked out on the Close of the church. (Like most things Anglican, we have funny names for simple things. Most people would call 'the Close' the yard or the lawn. The grass inside the gate and fence is, in Episco-speak, 'the Close', from 'enclosure', go figure.)
I happened today to be looking at hard copies of some of those over 200 essays when I happened across this one--entitled "Fireflies, Nintendo, bug zappers, my cat Catherine and other cosmic thoughts."
I wrote this in July of 1990. Catherine is long dead, alas. About a quarter of a century has passed and this was written in Summer rather than Autumn. But I want to share it with you to let you know what I was pondering 34.3% of my life ago. I wish I'd come across it in July, but I stand by it none-the-less.
A few things first.
1. Newsweek, a few weeks ago, had an editorial by a man who had refused to budge on the issue of Nintendo games for his children. NO WAY, JOSE (or more accurately, NO WAY, MARIO! He had said to the incredible advertizing and peer pressure trying to convince him to let his children play Nintendo games. My children play Nintendo--in fact have moved on to Sega Genesid.
For the uninitiated, these are video games that usually involve slaughtering innumerable video enemies before they slaughter you. I've never seen the point myself, being a child of 'team sports' and the outdoors. Nintendo bores me. I simply don't have the time. However, I know my children can kill millions of video villains and still refuse to squash a spider or other bugs in their rooms. They squeal if I squash them--wanting me to capture and liberate them outside.
2. Where I come from, fireflies illuminate the summer sky like the Northern Lights. They swarm and blink. As a child I would catch a jar full on a July night, squeeze off their blinking tails and make a bracelet out of light. When I tell my children this, they scream and wail. They are not so cruel. Maybe I should have played Nintendo rather than slaughtered fireflies.
3. Our neighbors across the street have a bug zapper--a luminescent blue coil that kills bugs with a noise like static on an old Motorola radio. I went to a lawn party in August years ago when bug zappers were brand new. One of the guests was a Buddhist. Each time a bug died in a fit of static, he blanched and ached. The Cosmic Force moaned within him. The host turned off the machine. The party continued--insect bites were a small price to pay for having the Cosmos at peace with Itself.
4. Our kitten--Catherine--kills bugs for sport. She must have read King Lear at some point. Sometimes she eats them and shakes her head from the bad taste. Most often she chases them and catches them and plays with them until they die. There is no static sound. And if I see her chasing a firefly, I shoo her away.
Out on our back porch--our deck--the bugs rule. We burn citronella and talk about buying a yellow light. We get bit and listen to the static zaps across the street. And there are fireflies--"lightening bugs" I learned to call them--that flicker and fade from time to time. There aren't as many in New England as in West Virginia. There are buckets full there. In Cheshire, I can count them on my fingers.
Here's a summer evening cosmic thought for you--we are like lightening bugs...we glimmer and glow for a while and eventually a bug zapper or a kitten or time itself snuffs out our light. All flesh is like grass, the Prophet Isaiah said over 2800 years ago. Like the flower, we wither and die. And, I say, like the glowworm, we glitter and then fade away.
***
Out on my deck, in deep summer, life seems almost as fleeting as it is wonder-filled. How odd--noticing the fragile-ness of life enhancing its value. Something Rare and Precious. A Gift.
If I weren't so happy to be alive, I might think of some profound moral to all this. As it is, I will enjoy the fireflies, thank God for my children, honor the lives of bugs, acknowledge that Catherine was born to hunt and kill, despise the bug zapper across the street, slap and scratch when need be, and--being like the flower that faded--make the most of the moment.
***
Summer invites cosmic thinking. Some holy 'round the edges.
If you need some evidence about the wonder of God, I'd invite you to sit on my back porch for a while, just after dark. It is so still, you can almost hear the whisper of our Creator, singing the cosmos to sleep. And life whispers back, softly as a firefly's glow.
When I wrote this, we had more cats than anyone needs.Catherine, the kitten, gave us her daughter, Millie, so bad none of Mimi's friends would adopt her. Chuck and Luke came to us later at the same time. Chuck lived and died, a bad cat. Luke lives on, happy that the others are long dead, loving being 'the only cat'. When I wrote that, Josh was 15 and Mimi was 12--now they are 39 and 36 and Mimi is getting married in October. We've had three different dogs since I wrote that.
Life does move on and things change, evolve, transform.
But when I read what I wrote over 24 years ago, I still believe it. It still rings true.
Ponder what is Holy 'round the edges. Ponder how God sings the Creation to sleep. Ponder how life answers back, glowing....
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Friday, September 26, 2014
buying a suit
I need a new suit for Mimi's wedding.
The problem is this: it's been so long since I bought a suit that I'm rather lost at sea trying to do it.
I've gone to Macy's in two malls and a Men's Warehouse in one, but there is no one there to help you and I have to take off my glasses to see sizes and when I see sizes I don't have a real good sense of what the suit looks like.
And, the last time I bought a suit in a real store, the pants and the coat came together. Now it seems, pants and suit jackets come separately.
I've been trying to remember when I last bought clothes in a real store and I can't remember. All the clothes I own now were either purchased in a consignment shop or Marshall's. For a decade or so, a lawyer in Cheshire, who was just my size, used to take his suits to the consignment shop and I bought them. But then that stopped. I hope he moved away rather than died.
So, screwing up my courage, I asked Bern if she'd go with me tomorrow or Monday and help me buy a suit.
She was waiting for me to ask and so with her in tow, I think I might be able to do it.
Suits--indeed, all the clothes--these days seem to be very expensive...which is why I go to Marshall's and the consignment shop. I am much cheaper than you might imagine. I don't like to spend money on clothes--which is probably obvious to anyone who sees me with my clothes on.
But, for Mimi and Tim, I need a new suit.
And I'm committed to doing it, willing to suffer both pain and indignity to do so. I love them that much.
The problem is this: it's been so long since I bought a suit that I'm rather lost at sea trying to do it.
I've gone to Macy's in two malls and a Men's Warehouse in one, but there is no one there to help you and I have to take off my glasses to see sizes and when I see sizes I don't have a real good sense of what the suit looks like.
And, the last time I bought a suit in a real store, the pants and the coat came together. Now it seems, pants and suit jackets come separately.
I've been trying to remember when I last bought clothes in a real store and I can't remember. All the clothes I own now were either purchased in a consignment shop or Marshall's. For a decade or so, a lawyer in Cheshire, who was just my size, used to take his suits to the consignment shop and I bought them. But then that stopped. I hope he moved away rather than died.
So, screwing up my courage, I asked Bern if she'd go with me tomorrow or Monday and help me buy a suit.
She was waiting for me to ask and so with her in tow, I think I might be able to do it.
Suits--indeed, all the clothes--these days seem to be very expensive...which is why I go to Marshall's and the consignment shop. I am much cheaper than you might imagine. I don't like to spend money on clothes--which is probably obvious to anyone who sees me with my clothes on.
But, for Mimi and Tim, I need a new suit.
And I'm committed to doing it, willing to suffer both pain and indignity to do so. I love them that much.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
The Captain is leaving the ship
My father was in New York City, waiting to ship out to Europe in the second World War. People couldn't do enough for the troops, so someone gave him tickets to a Dodgers/Yankees World Series game. And he decided that whoever won would be 'his team'.
The Yankees won.
So, I grew up in southern West Virginia rooting for my father's team--the Yankees.
I remember being under the covers with my little transistor radio, hearing every third word from a Yankees broadcast.
But all things considered, I could have done much, much worse. What if he'd been given tickets to a Chicago Cubs game, for goodness sake?
The late news on Channel 6 is Bluefield, had a sports reporter that begin his segment by saying, "Let's see who the Yankees clobbered."
Being a kid in the mid-50's, rooting for the Yankees was like Christmas every day. I grew up with Mantle, Maris, Berra, Skowren, Whitey Ford, Andy Carey, Bobby Richardson, Elston Howard, Ralph Terry...on and on, one the great dynasties of sports history.
And I've loved the Yankees ever since.
Then came the Joe Torre years and Pettit, Posada, Mariano and Jeter.
Tonight is Derrik Jeter's last game at Yankee Stadium. I've been watching it on and off, trying to be there when Jeter is batting.
He doubled and scored a run in his first at bat.
He started a double play that was deemed true by video replay.
He had a walk-off single in the 9th to win the game 6-5.
He is the Captain. He is the man. After tonight he'll never play in New York again, except in Old Timers' Games.
Only five people of the thousands and thousands who've played major league baseball have more hits.
Pete Rose, much maligned, and Ty Cobb both have over four thousand hits.
Hank Aaron, Stan the Man Musial and Tris Speaker are the only other three that have more hits in their career than Derrik Jeter.
He walked the walk and talked (when he spoke) the talk.
He gave me so much and all I've given him is my admiration and applause.
Tonight in the Bronx, a era ends.
I will miss him so. Many will.
He was the definition of dependable.
Not a bad thing to be.
The Yankees won.
So, I grew up in southern West Virginia rooting for my father's team--the Yankees.
I remember being under the covers with my little transistor radio, hearing every third word from a Yankees broadcast.
But all things considered, I could have done much, much worse. What if he'd been given tickets to a Chicago Cubs game, for goodness sake?
The late news on Channel 6 is Bluefield, had a sports reporter that begin his segment by saying, "Let's see who the Yankees clobbered."
Being a kid in the mid-50's, rooting for the Yankees was like Christmas every day. I grew up with Mantle, Maris, Berra, Skowren, Whitey Ford, Andy Carey, Bobby Richardson, Elston Howard, Ralph Terry...on and on, one the great dynasties of sports history.
And I've loved the Yankees ever since.
Then came the Joe Torre years and Pettit, Posada, Mariano and Jeter.
Tonight is Derrik Jeter's last game at Yankee Stadium. I've been watching it on and off, trying to be there when Jeter is batting.
He doubled and scored a run in his first at bat.
He started a double play that was deemed true by video replay.
He had a walk-off single in the 9th to win the game 6-5.
He is the Captain. He is the man. After tonight he'll never play in New York again, except in Old Timers' Games.
Only five people of the thousands and thousands who've played major league baseball have more hits.
Pete Rose, much maligned, and Ty Cobb both have over four thousand hits.
Hank Aaron, Stan the Man Musial and Tris Speaker are the only other three that have more hits in their career than Derrik Jeter.
He walked the walk and talked (when he spoke) the talk.
He gave me so much and all I've given him is my admiration and applause.
Tonight in the Bronx, a era ends.
I will miss him so. Many will.
He was the definition of dependable.
Not a bad thing to be.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
From hitting kids to hitting Obama
The latest tempest in a teapot haunting our president is that he got off a helicopter in New York City this morning and saluted the service members saluting him with a coffee cup in his right (saluting) hand.
The Internet is outraged. Fox News probably needs a new studio for the anger/bitterness/hatred that will provide toward the Commander in Chief.
First of all, I saw a photo of George W. Bush getting off a helicopter and saluting the troops while holding his Scottie dog...lots heavier than a coffee cup.
Second of all, he's the Commander in Chief for goodness sakes. He doesn't have to have military bearing to salute. He could give them a wave or just nod. He's their boss, don't you get that? So he's carrying coffee and salutes...what's the problem? Really?
I don't know if I've said this before here, but I've said it over and over in other parts of my life--the biggest and actually, only, problem Obama has at being President is that he's Black.
Have you ever heard such minute and minuscule complaints about a President before? Really. Ask yourself.
It's just like all the people who get pulled over by cops in Cheshire for DWB or DWH. I've lived here since 1989 and I guarantee you a majority of people I've seen pulled over in Cheshire have been either Black or Hispanic and not many of either live here. And I'm not picking on Cheshire--I'm sure it is true most places...even places who have a majority Black or Hispanic population.
The Race Issue is still buried and disguised by the illusion and dangerous mis-truth that we, in this society, are in a post-racial age. The President is Black. Lots of athletes and entertainers are Black. Everyone loves Shakira, for goodness sake, we're passed all that, really....An Enlightened Society, we are....
Bullshit!
The invective and hatred of President Obama all gets root and grows from a deep and abiding and probably never ending racism of a dwindling segment of the American population. We white folks, beloved, are soon going to be in the minority--there will be more Blacks, Hispanics and Asians in this country than Caucasians. Suck it up. Get used to it. White America is going color.
If you pay the least bit of attention to anything I write here, if you care at all, I really ask you to ponder and dwell on where, besides racism, the invective and harshness toward President Obama could come from? That and knowing the time is passing away for the White majority.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff could salute with a coffee cup in his hand and no one would notice or care. It happens all the time. The great thing about salutes is how sloppy they are!
What is it that has made so many people so vitriolically and steadfastly oppose our President, just because he's President, if it isn't his race?
Ponder that please, for all our souls sake....
The Internet is outraged. Fox News probably needs a new studio for the anger/bitterness/hatred that will provide toward the Commander in Chief.
First of all, I saw a photo of George W. Bush getting off a helicopter and saluting the troops while holding his Scottie dog...lots heavier than a coffee cup.
Second of all, he's the Commander in Chief for goodness sakes. He doesn't have to have military bearing to salute. He could give them a wave or just nod. He's their boss, don't you get that? So he's carrying coffee and salutes...what's the problem? Really?
I don't know if I've said this before here, but I've said it over and over in other parts of my life--the biggest and actually, only, problem Obama has at being President is that he's Black.
Have you ever heard such minute and minuscule complaints about a President before? Really. Ask yourself.
It's just like all the people who get pulled over by cops in Cheshire for DWB or DWH. I've lived here since 1989 and I guarantee you a majority of people I've seen pulled over in Cheshire have been either Black or Hispanic and not many of either live here. And I'm not picking on Cheshire--I'm sure it is true most places...even places who have a majority Black or Hispanic population.
The Race Issue is still buried and disguised by the illusion and dangerous mis-truth that we, in this society, are in a post-racial age. The President is Black. Lots of athletes and entertainers are Black. Everyone loves Shakira, for goodness sake, we're passed all that, really....An Enlightened Society, we are....
Bullshit!
The invective and hatred of President Obama all gets root and grows from a deep and abiding and probably never ending racism of a dwindling segment of the American population. We white folks, beloved, are soon going to be in the minority--there will be more Blacks, Hispanics and Asians in this country than Caucasians. Suck it up. Get used to it. White America is going color.
If you pay the least bit of attention to anything I write here, if you care at all, I really ask you to ponder and dwell on where, besides racism, the invective and harshness toward President Obama could come from? That and knowing the time is passing away for the White majority.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff could salute with a coffee cup in his hand and no one would notice or care. It happens all the time. The great thing about salutes is how sloppy they are!
What is it that has made so many people so vitriolically and steadfastly oppose our President, just because he's President, if it isn't his race?
Ponder that please, for all our souls sake....
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Nearly the last word I have on adults hitting kids....
Actually, it's not 'my' word at all. It's my friend, Fred's. Then, actually, it's not Fred's word either--it comes from Matthew 18:6 and I'm embarrassed to say I didn't think of it when I was ranting about how adults shouldn't hit kids.
Matthew 18:6: "If anyone of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in my, it would be better for you if a great millstone were fastened around your neck and you were drowned in the depths of the sea."
I'd say hitting children was a stumbling block of some great measure. Thanks, Fred, for reminding me.
I did make an allusion to what comes right before that, but Matthew says it much better than I did.
Matthew 18:1-5: "At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, 'Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?' He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, 'Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.'"
Both quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version of the bible.
Over the course of my ministry, I have had a few people come to me to complain about how distracting the children in the sanctuary were. I've usually told them, kindly and without rancor, "better get used to it if you plan to be in the kingdom...."
OK, I know I'm 'on it' about this. I'll 'get off it', but it just seems so abundantly clear to me that no adult should ever hit a child that I might 'get on it' again sometime....
Matthew 18:6: "If anyone of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in my, it would be better for you if a great millstone were fastened around your neck and you were drowned in the depths of the sea."
I'd say hitting children was a stumbling block of some great measure. Thanks, Fred, for reminding me.
I did make an allusion to what comes right before that, but Matthew says it much better than I did.
Matthew 18:1-5: "At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, 'Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?' He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, 'Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.'"
Both quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version of the bible.
Over the course of my ministry, I have had a few people come to me to complain about how distracting the children in the sanctuary were. I've usually told them, kindly and without rancor, "better get used to it if you plan to be in the kingdom...."
OK, I know I'm 'on it' about this. I'll 'get off it', but it just seems so abundantly clear to me that no adult should ever hit a child that I might 'get on it' again sometime....
Elbow redux...
OK, you know you're getting elderly when you talk too much about your aches and pains....I get it.
However, back to my elbow. Yesterday it seemed much better but when I woke up at 6 because of the dull ache--something different than pain from movement--it was clear I needed to have it looked at.
I wasn't sure I could get in to see my GP on short notice, so I went to Mid-State's Urgent Care about a mile away. I was their first patient after they opened at 8 and I'd had good experience with them. However, rather than ordering an X-ray to rule out any structural problem, the doctor just prescribed prednizone. I know about steroids--they mask symptoms until the body can heal.
I wasn't happy with that and called to see if I could see Dr. Olsen and sure enough, I could at 2. So I didn't get the prednizone. Dr. Olsen put me on a anti-inflammatory and sent me for a blood test to rule out uric acid (gout) and an X-ray. He didn't think the steroid was a good idea either.
Lo and behold, I have a bone spur in my elbow. I looked 'elbow bone spur' up on line and found out a lot of people have them but they never cause pain. But the symptoms in the articles are exactly what I'm experiencing. I have an appointment with the orthopedist who operated on the elbow years ago to see if I need some more surgery. The procedure I read about is not serious, probably one day surgery.
I don't know why I waited almost two weeks to go see about it. Is it that I just thought I could imagine it away or didn't want to know or figured I could tough it out and it would go away.
I need to think through that and ponder it. Why did I put up with pain for two weeks?
I remember once, when Mimi came home and had laundry, I went down in the basement with her and showed her the rubber mat to stand on so the dryer wouldn't shock her. She looked at me like you would look at a blithering idiot and said, 'get a new dryer!' I did, the next day.
I tend to make the best of a bad situation too much. I call it optimism. It's probably closer to stubbornness and stupidity. Probably....
However, back to my elbow. Yesterday it seemed much better but when I woke up at 6 because of the dull ache--something different than pain from movement--it was clear I needed to have it looked at.
I wasn't sure I could get in to see my GP on short notice, so I went to Mid-State's Urgent Care about a mile away. I was their first patient after they opened at 8 and I'd had good experience with them. However, rather than ordering an X-ray to rule out any structural problem, the doctor just prescribed prednizone. I know about steroids--they mask symptoms until the body can heal.
I wasn't happy with that and called to see if I could see Dr. Olsen and sure enough, I could at 2. So I didn't get the prednizone. Dr. Olsen put me on a anti-inflammatory and sent me for a blood test to rule out uric acid (gout) and an X-ray. He didn't think the steroid was a good idea either.
Lo and behold, I have a bone spur in my elbow. I looked 'elbow bone spur' up on line and found out a lot of people have them but they never cause pain. But the symptoms in the articles are exactly what I'm experiencing. I have an appointment with the orthopedist who operated on the elbow years ago to see if I need some more surgery. The procedure I read about is not serious, probably one day surgery.
I don't know why I waited almost two weeks to go see about it. Is it that I just thought I could imagine it away or didn't want to know or figured I could tough it out and it would go away.
I need to think through that and ponder it. Why did I put up with pain for two weeks?
I remember once, when Mimi came home and had laundry, I went down in the basement with her and showed her the rubber mat to stand on so the dryer wouldn't shock her. She looked at me like you would look at a blithering idiot and said, 'get a new dryer!' I did, the next day.
I tend to make the best of a bad situation too much. I call it optimism. It's probably closer to stubbornness and stupidity. Probably....
Monday, September 22, 2014
Spare the rod and spoil the child
I've been thinking since yesterday about 'spare the rod and spoil the child' which most people believe is in the Bible. It isn't. That phrase comes from a poem by Samuel Butler in 1644.
What IS in the Bible is Proverbs 13.24: "Those who spare the rod hate their children, but those who love them are diligent to discipline them."
So the 'spare...spoil' line is from a 17th Century poet, not Proverbs!
Let's ponder what a 'rod' is for a moment.
The two instruments of a biblical time shepherd were 'the rod and the staff'.
The rod was a piece of wood about 5 feet long and the staff was longer, usually taller than the shepherd and had a crook on the end--the model for the crozier a bishop carries.
The rod was used to literally, 'keep the sheep in line'. It was not used to hit them, but to guide them by leaning it against their side to make them change direction.
I know a bit about sheep, and hitting them does about as much good as hitting children does. A sheep has no idea what a blow means and will simply try to get away--but a gentle push on the side...a sheep understands to move the way he/she is being guided.
The staff, with it's hook, was to help sheep go down hills or up hills by being hooked around their neck and giving them a pull.
Remember Psalm 23, how the shepherd 'maketh me to lie down' and 'leadeth me beside still waters'. How the Lord 'leadeth me in the paths of righteousness' and how even 'in the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."
How could a weapon 'comfort' anyone?
The Biblical 'rod' is an instrument of discipline, certainly--but a discipline of guiding and leading, not of punishment.
So, next time you hear someone say that the Bible says, "spare the rod and spoil the child" you'll know it doesn't! And you'll be able to give some insight in to the guidance and encouragement and even 'comfort' of being gently being put back on the right path, without any violence.
Here's something to ponder: how could so many people be so wrong about what they think is in the Bible? And, more importantly, is that the only thing they are wrong about.
And always remember, Jesus said, "let the little children come to me" and "to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, you must become like a little child" and Isaiah said, "a little child shall lead them...."
Just some things to ponder while you're pondering whether it's a parent's right to hit their children....
What IS in the Bible is Proverbs 13.24: "Those who spare the rod hate their children, but those who love them are diligent to discipline them."
So the 'spare...spoil' line is from a 17th Century poet, not Proverbs!
Let's ponder what a 'rod' is for a moment.
The two instruments of a biblical time shepherd were 'the rod and the staff'.
The rod was a piece of wood about 5 feet long and the staff was longer, usually taller than the shepherd and had a crook on the end--the model for the crozier a bishop carries.
The rod was used to literally, 'keep the sheep in line'. It was not used to hit them, but to guide them by leaning it against their side to make them change direction.
I know a bit about sheep, and hitting them does about as much good as hitting children does. A sheep has no idea what a blow means and will simply try to get away--but a gentle push on the side...a sheep understands to move the way he/she is being guided.
The staff, with it's hook, was to help sheep go down hills or up hills by being hooked around their neck and giving them a pull.
Remember Psalm 23, how the shepherd 'maketh me to lie down' and 'leadeth me beside still waters'. How the Lord 'leadeth me in the paths of righteousness' and how even 'in the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."
How could a weapon 'comfort' anyone?
The Biblical 'rod' is an instrument of discipline, certainly--but a discipline of guiding and leading, not of punishment.
So, next time you hear someone say that the Bible says, "spare the rod and spoil the child" you'll know it doesn't! And you'll be able to give some insight in to the guidance and encouragement and even 'comfort' of being gently being put back on the right path, without any violence.
Here's something to ponder: how could so many people be so wrong about what they think is in the Bible? And, more importantly, is that the only thing they are wrong about.
And always remember, Jesus said, "let the little children come to me" and "to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, you must become like a little child" and Isaiah said, "a little child shall lead them...."
Just some things to ponder while you're pondering whether it's a parent's right to hit their children....
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