The Stuff You Don't Blog About

Every writer goes through a dry spell, and I guess the last few weeks have been mine. Where I once couldn't wait to make a Blogger entry, if I think of blogging at all, it just seems like kind of a chore. And as chores go, mowing the lawn will score me a lot more points with the family and neighbors!

I looked at some other blogs today for inspiration and made a few discoveries:

1. Sex in a blog is an all or nothing proposition. Really. There is no middle ground. A blogger will go on and on about politics, religion, their favorite food, and the smell of their own farts, but no mention of sex will be found. I just can't imagine that there are that many gender neutral people blogging. The only blogs I came across that mentioned sex feature it as an exclusive topic, as if the writers do nothing else during the day but go from escapade to escapade. I found it odd to discover that blogs are written either by sexless manequins or people that go at it like jackrabbits 24/7.

2. A blog can get you fired. No kidding. Did you know that there are people naive enough to post from work computers or MicroSoft employees who post pictures of product development on the web? It's kind of asking for it, don't you think? On the other hand, it's less than satisfying to read postings about a generic workplace that gives no clue as to whether it's a gas station or a government think tank.

3. You can make different blogs for different topics. Blogger offers the option of doing multiple blogs. I guess in a perfect world I would have one exclusively for posting my musings on religion and a different one for my love of cheesy horror and sci-fi flicks. But that's who I am. I can spend an afternoon writing my Sunday sermon and then watch Day of the Triffids that evening. It may not be a picture that always makes sense, but I prefer to put the whole jumbled mess out there and let you, the reader, figure it out.

Just like all writing, I guess it all comes down to these questions: How much of myself am I willing to reveal? Am I writing for an audience, or for myself? Am I willing to pay the price for troubling the waters?

Godspy Home Page

I just came across this cool website. It's called Godspy and is a journal of arts and culture from a distinctly Catholic perspective.

Calling all nerds!

Er, maybe that should read calling all fellow nerds.

The first new series of Doctor Who in fifteen years has begun filming this week. I watched this show religiously back in the 70s and 80s. It will be nice to finally see some new adventures on our TV screens soon. The special effects team also worked on the film Gladiator, so the series will finally have some nice-looking special effects for a change. I do have to confess, though, that it will take some getting used to a Doctor who's ditched the old-fashioned clothes for a t-shirt and leather jacket!

Can a revival of Mystery Science Theater 3000 be far behind?

So when was the last time you looked at your to-do list?

I use the book Celtic Daily Prayer from the Northumbria Community a few times a day for prayer and reflection. It's a great resource which I would recommend to anyone. It's not that often that a devotional makes me laugh out loud, but check out today's reading:

"The truth is, people will hold to almost anything in the name of Christianity: believe anything, do anything -- except its common and obvious tasks."

LOH 1

Gloom and doom overshadows
And
BOOM
The light of hope
Crashes through
Wanting more
But not material
Wanting less
But not relational
REAL
Attachments make connections
Really connect
Using each moment
Living each second
Hearts pounding with
Anticipation
Understanding attained
Leaving me wanting more
Vision illuminated, made concrete
By the
BOOM
The light of hope
Crashing through

TV News: Its Birth and Infancy

No one will ever forget the dreadful images of September 11, 2001.

Drawn to the nearest television by a phone call or a shout from a co-worker down the hall, Americans and viewers around the world stared in disbelief at the billowing smoke coming from the World Trade Center's North 110 Floor Tower. But nothing could prepare them for the shock that came moments later as United Airlines Flight 175 slammed into the complex's South Tower. Within an hour and a half, both towers were no more than a gigantic tomb of rubble for thousands of dead and missing.

As I struggled with the same mixture of grief and outrage shared almost universally by people everywhere, I was struck by the odd thought that because of television, so many people saw history being made -- live -- as it happened.

Sure, plenty of people have seen history-making events before on the evening news, but usually as a replay filmed or taped earlier in the day. Many events, such as the moon landing or the presidential elections, although broadcast live, have been scheduled in advance. Other newsworthy stories, such as military actions and natural disasters, are of such a long duration that getting pictures to the public isn’t that much more of an accomplishment than movie theater newsreels of the 1930s and 40s.

The attack on the World Trade Center was different. It was live spot news of an immense proportion. It delivered something that other media -- newspaper, radio and internet -- couldn’t deliver: the actual, history-making image as it happened. It’s no wonder that we instinctively reach for the remote in times of crisis.

Television news is ubiquitous. The other evening the restless insomniac that I am awoke at 3am and stumbled to my television set. Interspersed between reruns of “Matlock” and better-buns-and-abs infomercials were two network news broadcasts, one local broadcast, and a CNN re-feed on a bargain-basement UHF outlet. And that was just the over–the–air channels.

Taking a glance at my TV guide, I noted that a cable–connected news junkie could have scored a fix with CNN, CNN Headline News, Fox News Channel, and MSNBC. A commercial-induced withdrawal could be curbed by flipping over to "the niche news channels" like CNNFN, CNNSI, Court TV, Empire Sports Network, ESPN, ESPN 2 and the Weather Channel. Finally, the news junkie could come down from his information-overloaded high and be lulled to sleep by unedited highlights of the day's conferences and speeches on C-SPAN 1 & 2.

It’s almost hard to believe (or remember, as the case may be) that things weren’t always this way at all. Throughout the 20s, 30s and most of the 40s, television was little more than an experimental curiosity indulged in by educational and industrial organizations and a small group of wealthy viewers.

It’s not that people didn’t recognize the potential of the new device. Chairman of RCA David Sarnoff remarked in 1939, "The emotional appeal of pictures to the mass of people is everywhere apparent. (Kisseloff, 349-50)" But if the medium of television was ever going to find mass acceptance, it was going to have to broadcast something more intriguing than fuzzy pictures of Niagara Falls on an intermittent basis.

The development of a viable commercial television system was slow in coming to the United States. Not surprisingly, World War Two brought serious progress to a halt (Abramson, 31). But post-war television was hardly a boom–time, either: much time was spent fighting government anti–trust regulation, industry bickering over frequencies and competing standards, and, most importantly, in the minds executive boards everywhere: just how was this going to make any money (Boddy, 37-41)?

1948 is widely regarded as the year that broadcasters and the public really jumped head first into the ocean of commercial television. Television networks and stations met the public’s eager demand for shows with a variety of live programs: theater plays, musical showcases, stand–up comedy, soap operas and yes, news and public affairs programming.

The 1948 Republican National Convention in Philadelphia was broadcast to nine states via “stratovision” -- whereby “the signal was beamed up to a plane flying 25,000 feet above Pittsburgh… (Wilk, 97)” Following the critical acclaim of those broadcasts, the TV networks were eager to get involved with a regular schedule of news programs.

Douglas Edwards, known within the radio industry as more of an announcer than a reporter, was the face of CBS TV News. But what passed for network news in those days bares little resemblance to today’s spectacles. “…the Edwards show of those early years hardly even qualified as a television newscast. There were no television correspondents in the field and no network camera crews to film the stories. Except for wars, floods, and other catastrophes that, because of their duration retained a certain timeliness, there was little attempt to cover spot news. About 90 percent of a typical Edwards broadcast consisted of Edwards reading the news.” (Gates, 56)

NBC’s Meet The Press took advantage of early TV’s studio–bound limitations and became the longest-running news program on the air. A simple format, still followed today, consists of a few interviewers grilling a public figure on the important events of the day. Some notable guests of its first decade included Menachem Begin, Sen. Joseph McCarthy, Richard Nixon and Fidel Castro (Ball).

NBC’s entry into broadcast news is perhaps today remembered more for its sponsor than its content. The Camel News Caravan, hosted by the folksy John Cameron Swayze, made extensive use of newsreels (Bliss, 222-3). While the footage wasn’t always of the timeliest variety, it was at least a step in the right direction, playing towards the strengths of television broadcasting.

Other notable broadcasts of the first decade of television news included Edward R. Murrow’s See It Now, The Today Show (which accomplished the impossible feat of getting people to watch news in the morning -– even if it took a monkey to do it!), and CBS Reports. Of particular note is ABC’s unprecedented and uninterrupted coverage of the McCarthy hearings, viewed by over 80 million people (Streitmatter 168).

“Calling ABC’s televising of the hearings an act of enormous public service, Jack Gould wrote in the New York Times: ‘No viewer sitting in front of his screen can be unaware of the television’s tremendous role in the hearings – politically, educationally and socially. The television audience constitutes the real jury. Whatever the viewer’s personal political predilections, he is his own eye-witness, reporter and judge.” (Streitmatter 165)

In just a few short years the growth of the television industry forced its “big-brother,” radio, out of the general entertainment category and into a mostly local record–based format that it still, more or less, follows to this day (Emery 376). It kept audiences in their living rooms and out of the movie houses and live entertainment venues (Emery 393-5). It even began taking a large dent out of newspaper and magazine advertising revenue eventually resulting in the cancellation of The Saturday Evening Post and Collier’s (Emery 387).

With the increased audience and subsequent rise in revenues, funds were readily available for the development of new technologies that directly benefited news production: the Teleprompter -– which allowed anchormen to read their script without breaking eye–contact with the camera, color, magnetic sound, and coaxial connections from coast–to–coast that allowed networks to broadcast live news events to every affiliate at the same time (Kisseloff, 373).

“In 1947, only 1 percent of American homes had a television.” (Streitmatter 159) The 1950s saw television make great inroads with the American public. In 1952 “more than 34 percent of the homes -- fifteen million -- had television sets. By the end of the decade this figure was 86 percent.” (Emery 370) But the ubiquitous box in the living room was soon to be more than the trendy appliance to have.

Within fifteen years of its commercial inception, television news was no longer a novelty or hit–or–miss experiment in progress; it was a necessity for a nation in crisis. As Fred Friendly, then head of CBS News, recalled in the book Television:

“Those four days of massive television coverage of the Kennedy funeral held the nation together. A nation which had a forty-year old president shot from under them was in danger of disintegrating in an emotional tantrum...

"I think it was broadcasting's finest hour. And I think it might have saved this country... People at all three networks made the decision: no commercials, and more important, no entertainment programs. Television was for those four days the sinew, the stabilizing force, the gyroscope that held the country together.” (Winship, 218)

WORKS CITED

Abramson, Albert. "The Invention of Television." Television: An International History. Ed. Anthony Smith. New York: Oxford Press, 1992. 13-34.

Ball, Rick & NBC News. Meet the Press: Fifty Years of History in the Making. New York: McGraw–Hill, 1998.

Bliss, Edward Jr. Now The News: The Story of Broadcast Journalism. New York: Columbia University Press, 1991.

Boddy, William. "The Beginnings of American Television." Television: An International History. Ed. Anthony Smith. New York: Oxford Press, 1992. 118-147.

Emery, Michael C., Edwin Emery with Nancy L. Roberts. The Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass Media.
Needham Heights: Simon & Schuster, 1996.

Gates, Gary Paul. Air Time: The Inside Story of CBS News.
New York: Harper & Row, 1978.

Kisseloff, Jeff. The Box: An Oral History of Television, 1920-1961.
New York: Penguin Books, 1995.

Streitmatter, Rodger. Mightier than the Sword: How the News Media Have Shaped American History.
Boulder: Westview Press, 1997.

Wilk, Max. The Golden Age of Television.
New York: Delacorte Press, 1976.

Winship, Michael. Television. New York: Random House, 1988.

The Golden Spike

May 10, 1869 -- Promontory Summit, Utah. The chief engineer of the Union Pacific Railroad drives the final spike connecting his line to the Central Pacific Railroad. While not yet qualifying the westward pioneers for Amtrak Guest Rewards, it does reduce their treacherous six–month journey to a six–day train ride. The United States becomes a little bit “smaller” as the coasts are connected by rail.

Eighty years later, another event connecting east and west occurred, but it’s rarely (if ever) mentioned in the history books: the first television broadcast seen simultaneously on both coasts of the United States, as chronicled in the book The Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass Media (370).

Coast-to-coast broadcasting was made possible with the development of coaxial cable. The first lines had been laid by 1946 between New York, Philadelphia, and Washington, and by 1947 to Boston. By 1948 the Midwest was included so that network shows were received simultaneously in the middle and eastern parts of the nation. Finally, in 1951, AT&T completed a microwave relay system to the West Coast, in time for President Truman to address the San Francisco peace conference that ended the Pacific war in September. That speech was carried by 94 stations. Regular network broadcasting followed, and one of the first shows to be aired was Edward R. Murrow’s See It Now.

It’s a shame that this “golden spike” is so neglected in our cultural literacy. In my opinion, the development of broadcasting technology has at the very least had as much of an effect on the social change and development of this country as the transcontinental railroad.

I think that this event is quite often overlooked because the general public doesn’t understand the intricacies of television technology, and that people have forgotten to what extent the presentation of the medium has improved over the years.

In television news, electronic technology and the gathering and the presentation of the news are forever intertwined. In my previous paper, TV News: Its Birth and Infancy, I wrote about television’s first regular news broadcast: CBS TV News, a rather pedestrian affair that seemed to consist entirely of Douglas Edwards sitting at a desk smoking a cigarette. The visual design would occasionally kick into overdrive with the addition of -- now, sit down for this -- a map or a globe.

From a twenty–first century perspective, CBS TV News, Camel News Caravan, and the other early attempts at the news aren’t very riveting television. Archival rebroadcasts beg the modern viewer to ask, “Didn’t they know how to ‘do’ television back then?”

There are some good arguments to be made:

Why have Doug Edwards read excerpts from the State of the Union instead of just playing footage of President Truman outlining his “fair deal?”

How about a live report from China about the end of its bloody civil war?

What about a split–screen live debate between egghead sociologists in different cities about the impact apartheid would have on South Africa?

The truth of the matter is that the technology necessary to produce any of the aforementioned scenarios simply didn’t exist in the forties and early fifties. Just as Johann Gutenberg wasn’t cranking out four–color offset printed Bibles on glossy paper in 1455, the advent of television broadcasting didn’t bring with it color, magnetic sound, microwave relays, satellite uplinks and downlinks, digital switchers, and videotape.

That’s to say nothing of the human resources necessary to make a visually–impacting broadcast –- in television’s earliest days the industry didn’t even have its own film cameramen, relying instead on newsreel companies for actualities, and even then only events of a long duration.

Pioneer TV journalists were hampered in their presentation of the news by the scant technological resources of their time.

Just read what it took to spruce up a newscast with some film footage:

It was a terrible thing to get film on the air. Let’s say an airplane crashed in Dallas, Texas... We had to figure out airline schedules. Then, we had motorcycle couriers at the airports to get the film from the stewardess or the pilot.

You got the lab to turn down all other business and stand by with the machines all threaded up and ready to go. They’d slap the film on there and edit it quickly...

We would then write the script, put it in the can, and start a mad dash down Park Avenue in a Red Jeepster. We’d get to the RCA Building, and they’d be holding an elevator. ‘Here it comes through!’ It was like gangbusters every night of the week. Sometimes we wouldn’t make it. (Kisseloff 365)

With ulcer-creating scenarios like this being played out by television producers on a daily basis, no wonder the first great advancement of television news was the ability to transmit stories across a network of coaxial cable! But all joking aside, for the television industry to fulfill the public’s expectation of being the “window on the world,” it would had to create a more reliable and instantaneous way of delivering news actualities from around the country.

As previously mentioned, coaxial cable and microwave relays expanded the network’s capabilities. Journalistic icon Edward R. Murrow utilized the technology to startling effect on his first edition of See It Now by showing live pictures of New York and San Francisco simultaneously. (Emery 372) While not part of a news story per se, Murrow demonstrated the possibility of the new electronic tools.

The technology also helped bring down a threat to the American way of life. At the height of Joe McCarthy’s witch hunt, many newspapers and reporters were so fearful of being labeled communist sympathizers that they were basically running his press releases verbatim. (Streitmatter 157-8) What might have happened to America if television hadn’t stepped in?

ABC [provided] gavel–to–gavel coverage of the most explosive congressional hearings in American history. For more than a month, ABC held eighty million viewers riveted to their televisions as the unforgiving camera revealed McCarthy to be a rude and sadistic bully. By the time the hearings ended, McCarthyism had been relegated to the history books. (Streitmatter, 154)

A modern-day monster brought down by a fourth-rate TV network. ABC wouldn’t have been able to get away with a critical analysis of McCarthy -- it just didn’t have the clout back then. But by utilizing the technology to run a live and unfiltered feed into people’s homes, the tide of public opinion was turned.

Within a decade, the coaxial network was superseded by a system of satellites, adding a global as well as national perspective into the news. But the impact and result remained the same. Television now communicated to viewers through images, sometimes brutal images of current events. It made people aware of the brutal reality of black oppression (Streitmatter 171) and the senseless conflict in Vietnam (Streitmatter 187) in a way that an announcer behind a desk reading a script never could.

Just like the transcontinental railroad brought the country closer together, the United States -- and the world -- became a little bit “smaller” as communities were connected by television.

WORKS CITED

Bleazard, G.B. Introducing Satellite Communications.
Manchester: NCC Publications, 1985.

Emery, Michael C., Edwin Emery with Nancy L. Roberts. The Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass Media.
Needham Heights: Simon & Schuster, 1996.

Kisseloff, Jeff. The Box: An Oral History of Television, 1920-1961.
New York: Penguin Books, 1995.

Streitmatter, Rodger. Mightier than the Sword: How the News Media Have Shaped American History.
Boulder: Westview Press, 1997.

My Crazy Life

Love invades and topsy-turvy
Everything goes wervy-mervy.
Loss interrupts delivering pain
All the work goes down the drain.
Laughter intrudes, sings too loud
Shouting above the din of the crowd.
Anguish alters reality’s rhyme
Setting everything off off time.
Anxiousness distracts good intentions
With flustered answers to too many questions.
Ability can increase or decrease might,
As commitments carry into the night.
Hopes haunted, fears challenged,
Everyone watching this seems to be astounded.
Wandering worry, wished wane
My crazy life that is happy, sad and SANE.

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

I've spent the better part of the last two weeks convincing my seven-year old how beneficial a week at summer camp would be. Let's just say that he wasn't easily convinced -- after all, it would be his first time away from home. But through a strange coincidence, my denomination held a family day for clergy at this very camp today. My son had an immediate rapport with the new camp director and was also impressed with the pool, the mini-golf park, and the gymnasium. He also realized that he already knows about 8 members of the staff, who come from our home church. So suddenly, he's very excited about beginning sleepaway camp tomorrow. Of course, I'm now the one who's having second thoughts about sending my baby boy away for six whole days!!! SOB!!!

Sabbath's End

This last week has been good.

T-- and I made it a special point this week to live in the present moment. I think we actually managed to spend the last seven days without having a discussion about work! Instead we tried something new -- we enjoyed ourselves with whatever we were doing at the moment.

Take yesterday for example. As we were driving from Jamestown to the Buffalo/Niagara region, it kind of occurred to us that we had never actually decided what we were going to do when we got there! So we drove around until we got to the Castellani Art Museum on the campus of Niagara University. It was an interesting collection primarily made up of pieces after 1980. There was a fantastic large installation called Waterfall by Patrick Robideau, which was composed of dozens of old trunks stacked atop one another. However, I was most impressed by the small pieces of mixed media by Gerald Meade. And then for something completely different, we made our way to Old Fort Niagara for a walking tour.

The Teacher in Eccleiastes wrote, "Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might." So often I've only thought of that quote in relation to my employment, but I now see that it's just as valid for rest and recreation. Maybe even more vaild. So often I feel guilty during my "downtime" and seek to fill it with some sort of productive activity. But this week has me seeing time off in a different light -- as a Sabbath which is just as important to my family's well-being as putting groceries on the table.

Did I already say it's been good? The Genesee Country Village & Museum... Swimming (and grilling) at my mom's house, playing action figures with my son, going out to eat, watching movies, and even just taking a nap. Whatever we did this week, we did wholeheartedly, and it brought us closer together and more ready for the challenges in the months ahead. But I'm not going to think about that now -- I have a whole day of vacation left to meet some friends at their new church, hit the pool, watch a monster movie, and maybe even catch a nap!

Monsters rule O.K.!!!

My love of bad movies is legendary. As a kid, I once hitchhiked home from camp so I could catch a 2 am showing of The Thing With Two Heads. Years later, it was the first movie I purchased on DVD.

Imagine my joy and excitement yesterday as I browsed the aisles at my local Best Buy and saw a copy of The Monster Club on DVD for $9.99. Released directly to TV in America, The Monster Club was a stepchild of the Amicus horror anthologies of the 60s and 70s. The movie is a who's who of horror: Roy Ward Baker, Vincent Price, John Carradine, Simon Ward, Geoffrey Bayldon, Donald Pleasence, Britt Ekland, Patrick Magee, and Roy Ashton. Add a great soundtrack by a bunch of bands that never broke in America, and you've got an evening of prime entertainment!

This movie really takes me back to the early 1980s. We were the first family on our block to have one of those newfangled VCRs (a Montgomery Ward!) and one of the first things I ever recorded was The Monster Club off of WOR-TV. I've probably watched this flick a couple dozen times over the course of my life and it's as nostalgic for me as looking at my high school yearbook. This isn't a great movie. It's a movie that's so bad it's great! Remember -- MONSTERS RULE O.K.!!!

Quote of the Week: Compassion

"Compassion is the sometimes fatal capacity for feeling what it's like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too." - Frederick Buechner in his book Wishful Thinking

Genesee Country Village and Museum

I may not own a TARDIS, but I still managed to spend the second day of my vacation traveling through time. The extended family and I spent an enjoyable day at the Genesse Country Village and Museum in Mumford, New York. It's a massive collection of historical homes and businesses that have been moved to a piece of property just shy of Rochester, NY. All of the buildings have been carefully refurbished and furnished, and many of them have tour guides who will give you the history of the site. Pretty cool.

There is a real sense of peace that rests there. Exploring an austere Quaker meeting house and imagining the people who worshipped there, petting the animals, smelling the rosewater and walking the the garden at the Shaker Trustees' Building... I was amazed at the ingenuity of early settlers in the day-to-day business of daily living. It's a way of life forever closed to me. After all, I wouldn't survive a month on the frontier because I don't know anything about planting a garden, working with my hands, or, well, virtually anything I would need to do to live!

Yet there is such a purity, a "rightness" about that way of life that I hunger for. I can't help but wonder that for all our technological advances -- are we really better off?

Sabbath

I began my vacation today. It is a welcome relief after a particular busy month, where T-- and I found ourselves working every weekend.

Today, I was as unproductive as a rock. Since yesterday was a fourteen-hour day spent doing our Sunday meeting and picking kids up from summer camp, we wisely didn't plan any big activities for day one. So I spent the day in rest and relaxation -- mostly naps punctuated by brief periods of eating. Just when I thought that the day couldn't get any better, I discovered that Turner Classic Movies was showing a marathon of sci-fi cult favorites like Village of the Damned, Twenty Million Miles to Earth, and Forbidden Planet. (The girls contented themselves upstairs with daytime TV.)

I'm enjoying myself. It feels so good to slow down after pushing myself for so long -- and I still have six days left!

Quote of the Week: Small Steps of Love

"How can we choose love when we have experienced so little of it? We choose love by taking small steps of love every time there is an opportunity. A smile, a handshake, a word of encouragement, a phone call, a card, an embrace, a kind greeting, a gesture of support, a moment of attention, a helping hand, a present, a financial contribution, a visit ... all these are little steps toward love. Each step is like a candle burning in the night. It does not take the darkness away, but it guides us through the darkness. When we look back after many small steps of love, we will discover that we have made a long and beautiful journey." -- Henri Nouwen, from his book Bread for the Journey

Games With God by Virginia Hamilton Adair

It's not too often that we see a poem (other than Lamont's) grace this blog, but I came across this one in the book Beliefs and Blasphemies and thought it was playful and fun. It's by Virginia Hamilton Adair.

GAMES WITH GOD

I played, a child both wild and meek,
with God at games of hide-and-seek.
I searched in vain the usual places
and found a thousand saddened faces.

"Your God is hidden in heaven," they said;
"You'll see him only when you're dead."
How could I make them understand
God often took me by the hand?
Then as my tears began to fall
I felt his touch and heard his call,
"I never hid from you at all."

I played with God a game of tag,
his mantle flying like a flag.
I gave my God a good head start
but caught him running in my heart.

I played with God the game "I Spy,"
but lost him with my fading eye,
till playmate God in his pure kindness,
printed his image on my blindness.

From Poison Ivy to Halls of Ivy

T-- and I attended our graduation ceremony last Sunday. Barely. We were coming off a long weekend spent at camp in Penn Yan with the young people from church and we had a late start on the road. Then we missed the turn for the NYS Thruway and wasted a half hour cruising around the Fingerlakes. But all our anxiety was for nothing (as usual) as we ended up at the Buffalo State College campus with a few minutes to spare.

We were quickly ushered into a basement hallway where we put on our gowns and caps. I felt a little foolish as I took a look at myself reflected in a window pane. I kept feeling the urge to say, "Welcome to Hogwarts," to everyone I saw. We lined up and proceeded to walk into the auditorium.

After a half-dozen speeches we were called to the stage one by one to shake a few hands and receive a pin and a medallion. The medallion is really cool looking. Does everyone get one when they graduate? I thought I would just get a piece of paper. Then it was time to say visit with the faculty and get some pictures with family.

I originally hadn't planned on going to graduation. It just seemed like a waste of money and time. Because Empire State College is a distance learning school without a campus we were using another college's auditorium, and it wasn't like this was going to be my last chance to socialize with my classmates because I had never met any! Plus, as anyone who has ever visited my church will attest, I don't go in much for ceremony!

But T-- talked me into it because my favorite professor was speaking. And I'm so glad I went. It provided me an opportunity to celebrate with family and friends. And even though I had received my diploma in the mail months ago, I hadn't yet experienced the sense of accomplishment that I felt on Sunday afternoon. Now I actually feel like "I graduated."

Maybe there's a lesson in all this. So often I just rush from one commitment to another. Perhaps I would feel a little more satisfaction in life if I paused for a moment to appreciate the accomplishment of a job well done before jumping headfirst into the next thing on my to-do list.

TEAM

This is a team
We need to work as one.
Our focus, funtion and motivation
centered on the center.

This is a team
Not a solo act
With middlemen, hucksters and clowns
Hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder
Strong and commanding.

This is a team
But my burden seems too heavy
My input isn’t equaling what my output should be.

My team needs to pick me up,
Carry me to the sidelines
Allow me to rest by the Gatorade cooler…

This is my team, my life, and my hope.
Cover my back while I catch my breath.

Don't make me angry... You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...

Nothing makes such drudgery as a day spent around angry people. Work, for a variety of reasons, has turned into an emotional minefield of late, resulting in a variety of "friendly fire" incidents. I've been asked to intervene in a particular situation in which neither party will even consider the possibility that the other person might not be entirely at fault. I'm working with a father and son who aren't on speaking terms. My circle of friends is dealing with the emotional mushroom cloud that continues to fallout from a person with real passive/aggressive issues. My wife and I are taking a group of high school students on a retreat this weekend, which usually results in one good blowup between young people.

Will I sound too much like Stuart Smalley if I ask "Why can't we all just get along?" It's not that anyone seems to be enjoying all this warfare -- with the exception of Ms. Passive/aggressive -- but nobody wants to lay down their arms, either.

Maybe we'd all do a lot better if we heeded the words of author Frederick Buechner: "Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back -- in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you..."

A diamond prayer

disconnected
thirsty lost
pray read meditate
get to know you
met me at oasis
obey seek continue
intimate refreshed
close

Dumping Ground

Okay, I'll admit it: I've been dieting for the last month. It was something that I've wanted to do -- uh, desperately needed to do -- for a very long time.

I've always known that weight loss wasn't something I could accomplish all on my own. I'd need to be accountable to someone who could teach me healthy eating habits and monitor my progress.

And that's been the rub for years. It takes a lot of courage for me to admit to another person that I need help. It's kind of comical, really -- a 300 + lbs. guy who was afraid to tell anyone that he needed to lose weight. As if no one would notice if I kept my mouth shut, right?

I finally chose a weight-loss center that didn't require me to buy supplements or special food. Because the way I think of it, a diet is something you have to be able to live on. You can't starve yourself until you reach your goal weight and then go right back to the Golden Arches. The plan has worked for me so far: I never feel like I'm starving, I feel a lot better physically, I've dropped 21 lbs. and my blood pressure is down.

I also benefit from the accountability of the center. I have to go weigh-in three times a week which gives me that little extra push that I need to stay on course. The clinicians also ask me questions about how the diet is going, etc. One question that never fails to crack me up though is "When was your last bowel movement?"

I understand that when you're weighing a person three times a week that the amount of stool they're carrying around can throw all their measurements off. But c'mon -- even for the most noble of purposes, how should I respond to that kind of question?

Sometimes I make jokes:

"Just an hour ago. It was GREAT!"

or

"I haven't since yesterday. It's as if I have a cork inside of me. And I'm not one of the 'one in seven guys' who enjoys that sort of thing!"

or

"Just what exactly constitutes a bowel movement?"

I can always get one of the clinicians to laugh, but the other two somehow are able to maintain a stoic expression akin to a Buckingham Palace Guard. So I sheepishly whisper, "Today," as I stare at the floor.

One time I was horrified to answer the question because I hadn't gone since the day before. So I did what any well-adjusted college graduate would do: I LIED. I don't know why, but I was just too embarrassed to admit that I hadn't gone to the can since the day before. It's not like I expected her to call the police or put on a pair of rubber gloves and bring out a hose. Which one in seven guys enjoys, by the way.

Isn't it strange how embarrassed I get about normal things? (It just occurred to me that although I obsessively blog about most everything, it took me more than a month to address the diet in the blog.)

So here it is, world... I'm going to come clean about myself: I'm fat, I'm on a diet, and I have bowel movements... but not everyday!

Hooray for Horror Wood!

I just had a piece published in Horror-Wood, an online horror movie magazine! I wrote about the TV movie experience and the so-bad-its-good telefilm Scream of the Wolf starring Peter Graves. You can read the article by clicking this link.

That Was The Month That Was -- May 2004

Today is Memorial Day. I'm typing away at my mom's iMac, not quite believing that June begins tomorrow. Where did the month go?

May was the month when I finally shook the depression and anxiety about the future that had been dogging me about the future. I guess I've developed a que sera sera attitude about my career, and am beginning to dream about what my future could look like if the rumored-changes at work occur. It also helped that I did something for myself -- I began a diet and have lost 20 lbs this month. My exercise program was a little less successful though, and I found myself laid up for a week with a bruised ligament which came from exercising on inadequate footwear and continuing to push on with daily walks and bikeriding when I was in pain. (A classic newbie injury.)

I spent an evening with J--, an old friend from my radio days, and his pastor. I shared my knowledge about website building and they returned the favor by talking to me about the house church movement, something I'm very keen on learning more about.

We did our first annual community meeting at work. I was really satisfied with an annual report I put together which ran in our local paper. I have to admit that it was nice to get a lot of positive feedback from my coworkers and people in the community. I was also assigned a PowerPoint presentation for the meeting itself. I pushed the envelope quite a bit on this and turned it into a music video with moody black and white photography that demonstrated our organization's work in the county. Both projects took a lot more time than I anticipated, but I ended up with two media pieces with which I'm really quite proud. I forgot how much I enjoyed hands-on media work!

Everything at church is going really well, with the exception of our finances! T-- and I introduced a some new small groups that really seemed to flourish this month. We also began a low-key meditative prayer meeting on Sunday evenings. We've had really small crowds, but the people that have participated have been really touched through the leisurely, intimate time spent in the presence of God. I hope to see this work grow in the coming months.

I've also begun to look out more diligently for my own intimacy with God. I continue to observe The Daily Office, which has been a means of grace in my life since February. I began participating at a local pastor's prayer meeting. I also participated in a Labyrinth experience at Mount Saint Benedict Monastery which quite moved me. I've been reading the book Soul Shaper and trying out different spiritual practices from church history.

Last evening I had a blast with the family and a friend of ours at the Park 60 Drive-In in Jamestown, New York. We watched Shrek 2 and Envy. Yes, it's almost impossible for five people to remain comfortable in a small car, and the drive-in's FM system and screen is crap, and it's way too expensive -- but c'mon it's a drive-in! It transcends it's shortcomings and becomes a fun experience of Americana!

This morning I participated in the Memorial Day parade and ceremonies in Jamestown, NY. I got to ride in H--'s 56' Dodge and did the benediction at the memorial service in Lakeview Cemetery. It was the most official and public religious duty that I've performed since beginning this work two years ago, and I couldn't help but notice the irony: just when I finally feel comfortable in the role of a pastor I may be losing the job at the end of this summer! (But I didn't feel bad about the realization.) The family and I then went to my mom's house in Warren, PA . I spent the rest of the day -- well, resting! I fell asleep around 2 pm and just woke up at 7 pm! Must have been my late night at the drive-in!

May was a month where I tried a lot of new things, met a lot of new people, and saw that the future -- whatever that may be -- is something good to be embraced.

Creature Double Feature

Since I spent a good part of the last two weeks laid up because of a bruised tendon in my foot, I missed out on a high school play that M-- and H--, some girls from youth group had worked on. My wife and I decided to make it up to them by having them over for dinner and a movie. The movie thing can sometimes be more trouble than it's worth, because quite often the youth group will want to watch something that we wouldn't screen for teenagers, let alone watch ourselves (think American Pie); other times my wife and I will err on the side of discretion and pick a movie more appropriate to their brothers and sisters in elementary school (think Jonah -- a VeggieTales Movie). But I knew that wasn't going to be a problem this time as M-- is a horror fanatic rivaling even myself.

We ended up watching Dracula -- Prince of Darkness and The Masque of the Red Death. Dracula was a no-brainer because the girls knew Christopher Lee from LOTR and they love vampires, I have to say that although I normally would rate this film as one of my favorite Hammer Films, I found it to be a little slow-paced when viewed with a group. At least it picked up the pace a bit after the young couple escapes to the monastery and the ending on the cracking ice is one of the best conclusions in the whole Dracula series. I chose Masque of the Red Death because M-- had never seen any of the Corman/Poe pictures. I think that Masque is the best picture in the whole cycle. It took the girls a bit to work out that "the monster" they were looking for was the very human Vincent Price. (We also scared the heck out of M--'s grandmother who had driven them to town and stayed for dinner. The directors of the films would be proud -- she gasped or jumped at every single shock.)

The verdict? For teens that most likely think of a horror film as something featuring Jason, Michael or Freddy, they were suitably impressed with these movies made almost twenty-five years before they were born. We're planning another double feature soon when I hope to spring some Amicus or William Castle on them...

Young people enjoying Christopher Lee and Vincent Price movies! In these uncertain times, it kind of makes a guy have hope for the future...

deviANT

Aren't ants supposed to work together as a team? That's what I always thought. But I just saw something which is making me question that assumption: I noticed two ants scurrying around on my dining room table. Before I could sweep them away, one of the ants picked up the other one, walked over to the edge of the table and tossed his struggling victim over the edge. Now I can truly say that I've seen everything as I've witnessed an ant homicide. All was put right on the dining room table as justice was swiftly meted out to the murderer. I remain I.F. -- judge, jury and executioner.

THE OOZE

THE OOZE is a website created and maintained by Spencer Burke, one of the emerging church's most important voices. Every aspect of the site is designed to facillitate relationship-building and idea sharing between people seeking to understand what "being church" means in the 21st century. It's an interesting stew of user-submitted articles, blogs, websites, and resources. It's the type of site that I'll intend to take a quick peek at but invariably end up spending two hours on. They've also added this very blog to its ever-growing directory, so you know it's a website of great taste and discretion! Go get yourself stuck in THE OOZE today!

Review: The Road From Coorain

Mothers and their children have connections that can inspire them to greatness or can hold them captive to expectation and the fear of being left alone. Learning when to break the apron strings is an important lesson Jill Conway learns in the film based on her book, The Road to Corrain.

Jill and her family are strong independent people that desire to succeed in life. Jill is born and raised on acres of wild Australian rangeland on the edge of the desert. Her father raises sheep for a living, and her brothers help him in the work. Jill’s mom has the spirit of a pioneer woman and has worked very hard to build a dignified and proper home for her family.

Early in Jill’s family relationships, the viewer can see the great amount of expectation and promise that is associated with her abilities to learn, read and eventually become the matron of her family. Jill proves her academic abilities to her mother as she is home–schooled and in return aids her father with the herds of sheep after her brothers have been sent off to boarding school. It is her passion for helping her father that comforts him during a drought that kills off much of his stock.

Tragedy is a catalyst for Jill’s development as a mature individual. Just as she learned to read while her mother lanced a boil on her leg, Jill learns to care for her father’s business during the drought. This knowledge proves to be invaluable after the sudden death of her father, as she emotionally supports her mother through economic trials.

Undoubtedly, Eve takes situations into her own hands by selling of some of her furniture and moving the city to find work after her husband’s death, but Jill takes on what seems to be a role of friend, peer and equal—more than a traditional mother and daughter relationship. Jill also begins to attend formal schooling when the family moves into the city. Jill thrives in school and earns many awards for her abilities, but instead of her mother’s support and approval, Jill begins to receive sarcasm and criticism from her mother. In some ways, her mother is responsible for emphasizing the importance of education, but perhaps her extreme working strains caused her to resent her daughter’s opportunity for successes.

The family succeeds in turning the family business into a profitable one, so education and privilege are given to all the children and her Mother. All three children struggle with pressure to satisfy and impress their mother. The oldest brother, even after given a car for his birthday, feels unacceptable in his mother’s eyes. After the sudden death of her eldest brother, Jill again takes on the role of matron, as her mother regresses into the shell of grief and despair she had visited after the death of her husband. Jill’s next oldest brother escapes from his mother’s emotional extremes by returning to Coorain to run the family business. Jill continues her education, but dutifully cares for her grief-stricken mother on a daily basis.

As Jill nears graduation, her mother seems to improve as she hopes for Jill to pursue becoming a doctor. But Jill’s denial of her mother’s wishes causes her mother to become more erratic in her effort to hold onto her.

Over time, Jill becomes aware that if she is ever going to be happy she needs to follow after her heart. She does so and ends up involved with a married American businessman. This relationship helps Jill to realize a great deal about love, choice and how unselfish decisions made in love usually have the greatest results. Jill wants to be with this man, but decides to send him home to be with his family as she understands how terrible it is to lose a father. Jill becomes more aware through her interactions with this man that children need to move away from their parents at some point. Jill knows that she must pursue her dreams of becoming a history professor or be content with the choices in her life.

Eve was an amazing woman who had great abilities and a potential, but she allowed loss and bitterness to poison her love for others by pushing it into efforts to contain and control them. Jill respected the beginning that Eve gave her in life, but she understood that it was her life—not her mother’s. Jill could have tried to control every relationship around her, but power wasn’t her desire. Love was her desire all along.

Love taught her to read. Love taught her to care for the sheep. Love taught her to support and care for those people who were hurting around her. Love taught her to be unselfish and give back what wasn’t hers in the first place; and to chase after what was.

The Road from Coorain teaches families that tragedy and loss can be overcome, but the biggest tragedy occurs when controlling others becomes more important than loving them.

Sacred Space

I love this. It's called Sacred Space. It's a website run by the Irish Jesuits. It guides you through the Ignatian Exercises with an elegant interface. I guess this is the kind of idea that Leonard Sweet considers "ancient future." The idea of praying at a computer seemed really odd to me at first, but I grew used to it quickly. In fact, I visit it enough to consider it a part of my regular spiritual disciplines. Give it a try!

Praying in Circles?

I visited the Mount Saint Benedict Monastery this evening. The guest speaker was Carol Posch Comstock, the founding member of The Labyrinth Society. I had read a lot about labyrinths on Jonny Baker's website and in the book Soul Shaper, but I still wasn't sure what the fuss was all about. But in the words of Carol, "The best way to learn about labyrinths is to walk one."

After a time of prayerful preparation, I stepped into the labyrinth and started to slowly follow the long circuitous route to its center. Because I've been acutely aware lately of a need to be more conformed to the image of Christ, I silently repeated the prayer, "More of Jesus, less of me." When I got to the core of the labyrinth I just paused for awhile in the presence of God. Then I traced the route back to the outside thanking God for all the ways he is transforming me into his image. (I also tried a smaller labyrinth and even some small hand labyrinths that were on display.)

It was a beneficial experience that I would like to incorporate into my regular spiritual disciplines. I'm accustomed to sitting or laying down while I'm at prayer, but the act of using my whole body added an interesting depth to the experience. I also found it helpful that the labyrinth imposed a rhythm to my prayer: walking in I could express my lacking to God, wait on him in the center, and express my gratitude on the way out.

Thank God for the spiritual connections series at Mount Saint Benedict! In the midst of all the uncertainty at work these days, it makes for a nice personal time of refreshment and reflection each month.

Be Careful What You Test Drive

I need to preface this piece by stating that I'm not a car-obsessed individual. I don't buy specialized mud-flaps, design overly elaborate flame airbrushing techniques or get my car pimped-out with neon tubing. Normally, I’m perfectly happy putting around in my little Dodge Neon. But something strange is happening to me. I think I'm going a little crazy—car crazy.

Remember when you were a month of two away from graduating from high school? All you could think about was:

“What will I do after I graduate?”
‘Who will be my friends after I graduate?”
“After I graduate I will...”

I think you get my point—your present was overcome by a preoccupation with the future. Slowly but surely obsession over a car has taken up residence in the little space that was left in my conscious mind and I fear the lease was written for a long time. I currently have a 1996 Neon Expresso, and though it’s still running and doesn’t look too bad, it's beginning to show signs of eight years of family wear. I have replaced the brakes (several times), rotors (twice) and plugged several oil leaks that show no sign of stopping over the past few months. So last week after the starter in my car burnt out, I started to consider my options.

While the starter was being repaired a leak was found in the air conditioning unit. This repair and part would cost more than the starter did, so I opted to hold-off for awhile. So to be honest, the images of “shiny new cars with air conditioning, built in cd/stereo units and glossy new paint jobs dancing in my sweaty head” isn’t all that strange.

After a little discussion, my spouse and I decided to start “looking” for a new car. Now the only thing a person would really need to look is an eye. But this is where I think the new car virus really started to grow. It was such an innocent gesture—surfing the Internet for car information. I began reading and comparing the major car companies websites. I read reviews and compared similar vehicles I thought would serve my purposes of looking sporty, getting great gas mileage and lasting forever. Oh, and don’t forget the most important feature—the payments can’t be more than my “I-work-for-a-non-profit-agency” budget can afford. After gathering enough information to write a car reviews for Popular Mechanics, I continued to “look” by driving up and down the major auto sales street in my town (even when it really wasn't convenient). As my obsession grew I found myself surfing the net by day and visiting car dealers in the evening, but even that wasn’t satisfying my appetite for a new car. I finally spoke to a car–dealer friend of mine and it just happens that he sells the new cars I like the best. But speaking wasn't enough—I took one of the prettiest red sport wagons you've ever seen for a test drive. I let myself go in the fun of the moment. I cranked the stereo, rolled down the windows, drove it around town and zoomed on the highway a little. It was a zippy little thing. When I returned to the lot, my friend suggested I take it home to my husband and kids and have them test it out as well. I took him up on the offer. This is when new car obsession crossed into the realm of reality and it was beginning to get serious.

My kids loved the car, my spouse didn't seem to want to stop driving it, and being a passenger wasn't a boring experience either. I have to tell you, either the dealer had actors planted by the side of the road or people liked the look of the vehicle (or us in it—maybe both). There were people smiling at us and the car. This new car-itis is crazy stuff. My entire psyche was being fed all things that fuel the already car-obsessed mind. We returned the car after about a half hour of testing and everyone in my family was giddy and smiling. I remember saying to everyone, "Don't get too excited. This is only a test drive," but I think I was really speaking to myself more than anyone else. After a rather long conversation with the salesman and our friend, we said our good-byes and promised to return with our Neon to consider a trade-in. As I watched my family linger around the potential family fun car, I got a little nervous.

Fantasy and play are fun things, but now I’m going to have to do some number crunching. Ugh. I have to take some time to figure out the trade-in, down payment, and monthly payment for this pretty little number. Then there's a loan application process. Double Ugh!

I know that I'm really getting ahead of myself and it will all work out somehow. But I would hate to disappoint those happy little faces I saw reflected in the red glossy paint of that cute little wagon if we weren't able to swing its cost. I even tried to go for a generic cure for my car obsession. I test-drove a (gasp!) cheaper car. It was new, but it was boring. It was new, but the doors felt like they were made with aluminum when I closed them. The car was new, but it coughed and sputtered a bit when I stopped at every red light. The car was new, but I slammed my head on the inside of the car when I got out of it. This car was new, but it reminded me of a lemon and it had nothing in common with the pretty red number across the street. Generic cures don’t cure the illness that has affected my mind and body over the last few weeks. This is going to have to be the real deal. So now that I’ve found THE ONE I have to see how to make it work in reality.

It worked great in the test drive. I may have to wait a little while for something that is next-to-new or previously-leased, because I would rather wait for THE ONE than end up bitter because my fevered state made me jump and buy a lemon.

So just like all those soon-to-be-graduates I find myself preoccupied about the future. Only instead of wondering what I will be doing after graduation, I keep imagining:

"What will I do after I get the car?”
“Will our family and friends like the car?”
“After the car…”

Instead of Senioritis, I have New Car-itis and I'm not sure when I’ll be cured. But before the reality of making payments and driving off the lot will take away this long lasting illness, I think I'll try to enjoy it some more. Hey, do you want to go on a test drive?

Jesus Loves You, Everyone Else Thinks You're An --

The Christian life isn't intended to be lived in isolation, but community. Let's face it though: community has its risks. Being open and honest with people can leave you just as vulnerable for attack as it leads to greater intimacy. Sometimes the people who talk the most about love seem the least likely to demonstrate it. And everyone seems to know someone who left the church because of someone's cruel behavior.

B--, the world-traveling wunderkind, recently passed the book When Bad Christians Happen To Good People along my way. I must have been having a bad day or something. I was interested to see what author Dave Burchett had to say about the wounds that get inflicted in the church everyday. Would it be an angry diatribe about every parishioner who ever sat in his pew at church? Thankfully, no.

Burchett writes about a serious subject matter in a witty and conversational tone. He proves that being a sincere Christian and having an opinion aren't mutually exclusive. Trust me -- you'd want to sit at this guy's table at a church potluck.

Burchett recounts some painful incidents directed at his family that made my blood boil. But he's just as quick to point out his own foibles. The book doesn't offer any deep insights -- it's more of a kick in the rear end to people who "should know better." And truthfully, I found my rear end to be the target of Burchett's foot on more than one occasion. Many of his illustrations hit way too close to home. I winced so many times during the reading of this book that T-- thought I had developed a facial tick.

The book is strong medicine, but a necessary prescription for a church that has forgotten its purpose is to be ever-increasingly transformed into the image of Christ.

Review: Abba's Child by Brennan Manning

Have you ever enjoyed a book so much that you wished you could put copies into everyone's hands? Abba's Child is one such book. Nobody writes about the love of God like Brennan Manning. This slim volume examines why so many Christians live life under a dark cloud of impending judgment rather than with a spirit of encouragement. The heart of the matter has to do with a believer's image of God -- the dispassionate judge versus the loving father. So often a person feels he can never measure up and puts on a public persona -- Manning calls it The Impostor -- who appears to perform flawlessly. This make-believe is what robs us of true intimacy with God and genuine community with others. A much-needed book for the church today.

Quote of the Week: The Beatitudes

"For some reason, the most vocal Christians among us never mention the Beatitudes. But, often with tears in their eyes, they demand that the Ten Commandments be posted in public buildings. And of course that’s Moses, not Jesus. I haven’t heard one of them demand that the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes, be posted anywhere. 'Blessed are the merciful' in a courtroom? 'Blessed are the peacemakers' in the Pentagon? Give me a break!" -- Kurt Vonnegut

Review: Avengers JLA

Back in the day, I had a huge comic collection. I didn't collect any particular titles. I just read anything and everything -- Marvel, DC, Atlas, even the odd issue of Archie. I remember when my den mother found out I had amassed over 100-plus comics and berated me over what a waste it was to have over $25 tied up in a comics collection! How times (and prices) have changed!

I gracefully bowed out of comic collecting after Marvel cancelled the U.S. edition of its Doctor Who comic. I still pick up Teen Titans Go and Justice League Adventures for my son, but I only pick up graphic novels myself now -- usually reprints of stuff from my childhood such as Spider-Man, Fantastic Four, and The New Gods. It takes something truly special to make me plunk down four or five bucks (!) on a single issue.

Avengers JLA was a four-issue miniseries that I just couldn't resist. Yeah, I'm a 36 year-old geezer who spends most of his time reading religion & philosophy, but c'mon -- I'm still an eight year-old fanboy at heart. This was a chance to see Earth's Mightiest Heroes duke it out with the World's Greatest Superheroes! I've always been a sucker for DC/Marvel Crossovers ever since I read Superman versus Spiderman in 1976.

The story starts out promising enough, with the Grandmaster challenging Krona to a game using the Avengers and the JLA as unwitting pawns. George Pérez turns out some of the best artwork I've seen in a long time and captures each character beautifully, which is no mean feat considering the large cast involved. I especially liked the sequences where the heroes switched realities and their reactions to each other's earths. The JLA is disgusted with the anarchy and corruption of the Marvel Universe, while The Avengers are speechless at the way heroes in the DC Universe are almost worshipped. Good so far. But the much anticipated battle between the superteams in issue two comes across as almost an anticlimax and the limited series never really recovers. It just got worse with each installment, like The Matrix movies. By issues three and four, writer Kurt Busiek dispenses with the story altogether and the comic just becomes an endless parade of cameos as -- ahem -- reality begins to shift and the rosters of the superteams keeps changing.

Avengers JLA was a great premise that unfortunately disappeared up its own rear end. Frankly, my friends and I thought up better Marvel/DC crossovers playing with our Mego Action Figures at recess. The only thing I regret more than reading it is the realization that I just spent $24 on four comics -- roughly the same amount I had invested in my much better collection as a third-grader!

Roughin' It

I never realized that I was an addict until the unthinkable happened yesterday: my super-fast cable modem connection died! It had been there when I disconnected the iBook to do some work in another part of the house earlier in the day, but it was gone when I reconnected it last night. I assumed the tragedy must have somehow been connected with this, and repeatedly fiddled around with my ethernet connection and cable modem. A glance at the clock surprised me that I had been doing this for about 2 1/2 hours! The story should have ended there, but I came back to it an hour later. Then it was the first thing I checked out when I woke up this morning. While I waited for the cable repairman to get there, I couldn't stop thinking of stuff I wanted to do on the internet: check the news and weather, chat with friends, get maps, and even look up definitions of words. It's amazing to think about how quickly the internet went from being a novelty item to a must-have accessory. By odd coincidence my cell phone died at the same time. Ah, the trials and tribulations of a 21st century man...

Mister Golden Hair Suprise

I had a very odd exchange the other day with someone after church. Let me first preface this by saying that the person who spoke to me is very level-headed and never, never, ever says odd things. This person isn't a Pentecostal and isn't looking for the Age of Aquarius to begin. This person isn't on any kind of medication or has mental health problems.

Anyway, here's what the person said: "When you speaking this morning, you were surrounded by a golden glow. What does that mean?" It was like that old episode of Welcome Back Kotter when the girl tells Horshack that he has an aura. And Horshack goes, "Great! Uh, what's an aura?"

L-- followed the whole thing up on Sunday night by doing a comprehensive and scholarly investigation of all color-related supernatural phenomena. (Actually she just did a Google search for aura.) Here's what she came up with:

There are different kinds of auras that some people claim to see. They reveal things about a person's nature. A golden aura symbolizes the intellect and an awareness of spiritual nature. It's most often found in the auras of spiritual healers and leaders. (A red aura means you're hot-to-trot. Notice my friend didn't say anything about a red color anywhere around me.)

What does my new-found aura mean to me? Well, probably nothing because I can't see it. I'm not going to tell anyone at work about it until I feel like getting fired. I'm not going to change my name to Goldie. I'm not going to write a book called "Your Aura and You." I guess it's just one of those things that make me go hmmmm...

Quote of the Week

"'The opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference." -- Elie Weisel, Holocaust survivor

Review: Ghosts -- The Story of a Reunion

Adrian Plass is a well-known writer in his native England, authoring over twenty books. Until recently, his books have been unavailable in the United States. So I couldn't wait to dig into his latest novel, Ghosts -- The Story of a Reunion, to experience first hand what our friends on the other side of the pond have been enjoying.

A recent widower attends a reunion of his old church youth group -- people who, for the most part, haven't had much contact with each other since the late seventies. Spending the weekend in "the most haunted house in England" the friends come face to face with how much they've changed over the years and uncover some painful traumas -- or ghosts -- from the past.

A book written with gentle humor, compassion, and honestly, Plass shows a lot of insight into issues facing Christians without ever turning preachy or trite. Ghosts is a wonderful introduction to Mr. Plass and I'm looking forward to reading more of his books as they become available in the States. Recommended!

Holy Cheesy Comics, Batman!

If you haven't guessed by now, I love books with a passion. But before I read grownup books -- you know, without pictures 'n' stuff -- I was a huge comic fan. I had hundreds of 'em. The funny thing is some of them haven't aged too well. There's a website devoted to some of the cheesier excesses of seventies comics and it's drop-dead funny. Take a trip in the Batmobile down memory lane to Gone & Forgotten today!

You Turned On The Light

Hey. Here's a song I recorded on Saturday at Stonehouse Studios. I wrote it to remind myself that there's always hope no matter the circumstances. Download it by clicking here. Hope you like it!

Here's to Jesus, here's to you!

Love Feast and Treasure Hunt are the last two books Frederick Buechner wrote about Leo Bebb, the founder of The Church of Holy Love, Incorporated. The Bebb books are hard to categorize. I always find myself describing them as hilarious and then go on to recount a plot that inevitably sounds terribly sad. So let me just avoid the whole thing this time and say that these are wonderful books and you'll live a much happier and richer life if you read them!

Love Feast finds our characters very much out of place, speaking both geographically and emotionally. Antonio has to deal with his separation with Sharon and Bebb is adrift after the failure of his latest church venture in the northeast. That is until he becomes the Pepsi Generation's next big thing on campus through a strange series of circumstances. The book contains the best description of the gospel that I've ever read and manages to use the word "shit" over a dozen times in the process.

Treasure Hunt is a true original: A Bebb book without Bebb. The evangelist has passed on to his heavenly reward and it is up to his family and friends to deal with the mess -- er, legacy -- he left behind. Bebb's final secrets are laid bare in the immensely satisfying end to the series.

Said it before, I'll say it again: Frederick Buechner is a genius. Quick -- go to Amazon right now and buy these books!

musicplasma : the music visual search engine

Just when I think that there isn't anything on the net anymore that can impress me, I come across something like this! Musicplasma bills itself as "the music visual search engine." It's cool. Type in the name of a musician, hit search, and you'll be given a chart that shows what other artists or bands are in the musician's musical orbit. What a clever way to discover some new music. And what a cool way to visually represent ideas.

Vector

I spent an enjoyable Friday evening at my friend B--'s apartment. He not only treated my family to dinner and some great conversation, but also to a few hundred pictures of his recent journeys to Israel and Turkey. I was surprised to see that Israel was so green -- I always imagined that it was a big desert with sand everywhere. The pictures of Turkey were incredible. B-- showed us some homes that had been dug out of the rock faces of cliffs, which looked more like something out of a fantasy/sci-fi flick than something that exists on 21st century earth. I was surprised to see those pictures side-by-side with pictures from an internet cafe in the town of Urgup. Or photographs of nomadic Bedouin tribes with satellite dishes sitting outside their tents.

I remember back in elementary school when my teacher described the United States as "the great melting pot." Immigrants from many different cultures came together in a specific geographical location and formed a new culture over a period of decades. But the melting pot has given way to the global village. The Turkish may not be guarenteed indoor plumbing everywhere, but they can surf the net. Bedouins unwind after a hard day of camel herding by watching Seinfeld.

Sometimes I feel like the whole world is melting and blending all around me. In my association with the church I have been exposed to many different cultures and subcultures -- Swedish, British, Hispanic, young, old, haves, have-nots, Christian, other spiritualities, and no spiritualities. I'm also affected by the global culture that gets piped into my TV, internet, and radio. On any given day I can see live satellite pictures from the middle east, chat on the computer with people from different countries, and listen to music recorded around the world on my radio.

Each culture has it's own opinions and behaviors formed by its unique experiences. That's been a rewarding if not always easy learning experience for a middle-class white kid from Warren PA, and I know I've grown richer as a result of building these relationships. The ability of being able to see things from another point of view has made me reexamine some of my ideas and beliefs about life.

Young people tend to make decisions based on instant gratification. That's not a criticism, just an observation on life. I made decisions the same way when I was in my teens and twenties and I bet you did, too. My wife and I encourage the young people we work with to look a little farther into the future than just this school year. We make them aware that the decisions they make today will have consequences both good and bad in the future.

I was hopeless at geometry. But I do remember one thing from third period all those years ago. A vector was a change that involved both depth and direction. Encouraging a young person to look a little farther into the future will hopefully result in him being aware of the direction his life is taking. But I think it's also becoming just as necessary to encourage him to have a depth of experience with other cultures -- because how can a person have an impact on a world he doesn't seek to understand?

Salt & Light

Because I work every Sunday in the church, Thursday is my Friday. And I'm sure looking forward to two days off. I have a lot of things I need to do around the house and in my personal time. Like everyone else I never seem like I have enough hours in the day to get everything accomplished.

My job is actually two jobs in the same nonprofit organization -- pastor and public relations director. The workload for each job should easily warrant two full-time employees, but that's not going to happen given our current budget woes. So quite often I find myself working from crisis to crisis without ever getting to some of the not-time-sensitive items on my wish list. But today I did something very uncharacteristic. I chucked the phone calls, my email inbox, and the to-do list to follow up on something I've wanted to do for a long time: organize a voter registration drive.

My church spends approximately 75% of its efforts working with young people. I am continually impressed by their enthusiasm and dreams. Young people at my church deliver food baskets at Thanksgiving, help organize a massive Christmas effort, work at camp with inner city kids, and generally do a lot of amazing things. These aren't young people who were born with silver spoons in their mouths, but people who have overcome great obstacles in their growing up. A few months ago I was talking with some of them about current events and it was great to hear their opinions on politics. I discovered they weren't registered to vote and didn't know how to go about the process. I always intended to follow up with them about that, but it just became yet another thing that fell through the cracks of my hectic schedule.

But something inside me broke this morning as I listened to the morning news. I can't sit around and be passive while the entire world goes to hell. So I decided to organize a voter registration drive. My first call was to the Chautauqua County Board of Elections, and my second to the League of Women Voters. Everyone was so helpful. I discovered that the process is insanely easy -- anyone can organize a voter registration drive.

I hope to get this on the calendar before high school gets out. I'm also seeking a few high school students to get the word out via posters and the internet. Yeah, I know I have a lot more important stuff to do, like paperwork, but if I don't help these young people get involved in the political process, who will?

A lot of churches give lip service to teens and always say that "young people are the church of tomorrow." But my wife and I prefer to look on them as the church of today. I guess the voter registration drive applies that opinion to the political process. I can't wait to see how this turns out!

Review: The River Within by Jeff Imbach

I had an interesting experience recently. I was spending a leisurely Saturday afternoon browsing the racks at my local library when I came across a paperback wedged upside-down between two shelves. I'm a book lover, and I couldn't bear to see the little book twisted around, cover bent, pages every which way. As I reached into retrieve it a little voice inside of me said, "Read this book." So I decided to borrow it and read it before even knowing the author's name, the title, or the subject matter. I'm glad I did.

The book turned out to be The River Within by Jeff Imbach. A spiritual formation primer, it raises questions about the absence of passion in many Christians. Where is the life abundant promised by Christ? Quite often it's been crushed by cultural values in the church, where conformity and pat-answers are the order of the day. Imbach makes a great case for living passionately. He suggests that spiritual disciplines keep the passion moving in a life-affirming direction.

Yes, it's yet another book that encourages me to look at the totality of my life and not just the God-bits. I'm already a big proponent of experiencing God in all areas of life. Imbach's book just got me to stop feeling guilty about it. What a great message to be reminded of: God is experienced in church, prayer, and his word; but he's also experienced in nature, conversations, and circumstances. And maybe even in a library on a lazy Saturday afternoon...

The Ten Paradoxical Commandments

I'm not big on e-mail forwards, but I really liked this one. It was written by Dr. Kent M. Keith in 1968, and its message is maybe even more important to heed these days.:

THE PARADOXICAL COMMANDMENTS

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.

Bliss

I awoke last evening around 3 am. I felt completely rested and would have assumed that it was 7 am if I hadn't been in complete darkness. Going back to sleep wasn't going to be an option, so I got up so as to not wake my sleeping wife. The things I usually do when I can't sleep -- read, surf the net, and watch TV -- just didn't seem appropriate last night. Something else was in the air. I quietly crept downstairs and took a seat in our living room where our two children were sound asleep, the television still on. I switched it off. Our living room is beautiful. My wife transformed the walls a few years ago from a drab off-white to an inviting mustard with a scoria-colored trim. She also decorated our picture window with an odd little string of lights from Ikea and some gold-embossed cloth. Simple touches really, but it's just one of those amazing things she does to a room with a spare weekend on her hands. The house was in complete darkness but for the glow of the picture window, and as the light washed over me I was lost in the most beautiful feeling of bliss. I took a seat near my sleeping son and gave myself completely over to the moment. To be quite honest, I have no idea how briefly or long I sat there. I just felt a complete happiness with God. It was a time of worship and ministry that went deeper than words or intellect. I felt as if I were an empty cup and God was pouring himself into me. The moment never really passed, but I eventually made my way to a spare bedroom for a deep sleep. I awoke this morning and reflected that this must be a little of what heaven must be like.

That Was The Month That Was -- April 2004

April 2004 was a month that promised spring, but never really got around to delivering in a big way. The season actually seemed to be going backwards, quite often feeling more like February than April!

The Passover musical on the radio didn't seem to fit with the wintry weather I was driving through on the way to my friend J--'s birthday party. The backwoods in northwestern Pennsylvania have their own "terrible beauty" especially on a grey, cold day. It was quite a contrast to step into a warm, inviting home to spend the afternoon with friends. J-- turned 40, but you wouldn't have guessed from the decorations -- all superhero stuff. I could have never imagined any of our parents having Hulk decorations back in the day. Maybe my generation is just living out a lengthy childhood -- I celebrated my birthday (36) watching monster movies!

I took a much-needed vacation after the busyness of Holy Week. I ended up in Kentucky, where there was evidence of spring! T-- and I reflected that we must be crazy to live up here in New York aka the North Pole.

Last Sunday I went to a Youth Specialties event in Buffalo. The "training" wasn't so much about techniques as it was about discovery. The facilitator led us through some exercises to help us discover our own unique personalities and gifts. It was some much-needed affirmation. The intensive kind of people-work the church requires can leave me worn out, and it's a big temptation sometimes to wish I had the gifts and abilities of more successful ministers. But it's much more important to be myself. I may not be the best, but I am genuine, and that seems to be a rare quality these days!

I spent a lovely evening at the Mount Saint Benedict Monastery on Wednesday. Being a rather shy type, I almost cancelled my reservation when I found out T-- had to work. But I'm glad I participated. Sister Carolyn and everyone was so friendly to the "new guy." We shared a dinner and then spent the evening talking about creation spirituality. The one thing I took back from the program was the Benedictine idea of living in the present. I spend so much time regretting the past or worrying about the future, so it was a message I really needed to hear. In an age of multitasking, it's a message we all probably need to hear. It fed my soul, and I will be back for other events.

If there's one word I would have to describe April 2004 with it would be encouragement. I'm really blessed with a group of friends near and far. A few days didn't go by in April that someone stopped by the office or called me on the phone and encouraged me. I even received a few letters and had some iChats from friends far away. Believe me -- it more than made up for the weather!

That was the month that was - April 2004...

The Sweet Smell of Success

The girls at church today were talking about a feature they saw on TV about people who get paid to be "bathroom assistants" to musicians and actors. The gist of the job is that they proceed into the bathroom ahead of the star to scope out the room and empty it of people, if necessary. Then they guard the room while the entertainer, well, you-know, goes poop 'n' stuff. No word yet on if wiping is part of the job description...

And you thought your job was crappy!

Getting to the CORE of things

After wandering around wondering where I fit in most recently, I, B, H and myself had an opportunity to fit perfectly somewhere. We attended a Youth ministry training in Buffalo, NY and were in the company of a hundred or so youthworkers from our region. Some of the folks were total strangers, some peers and previous youth members now in ministry jobs from our home town, and some from our various trips with The Sally Army. There was a closeness there today that you only usually feel on day three of a three day retreat - but this was only hours long. Maybe it was the "sameness" of our jobs, the overindulgence in junk food or the crazy act like a fool games. I frankly don't care what the formula was -- it was exactly what my overly busy, emotionally drained person needed.

There has been so much talk about "calling" lately -- mine, yours or otherwise -- that I was happy to be accepted for who I am and where I am being ok. How refreshing! It's like someone packaged this short seminar in a peppermint patty wrapper and I unpeeled it to experience something totally unexpected and new. I felt supported, accepted and loved. Experiences like this show me all the more, that "church" or even better "God" isn't limited to my small perspectives and limited vision. Jesus can break through the tough exterior I put up to protect myself.

A good friend of mine spoke about how Jesus pursues us passionately. Like a group of kids that throw a snowball at your car. Do I stop and get out of the car to see what they want or do I just keep on driving while grumbling about my car's possible injury?

The pain that we feel can be the snowball Jesus uses to get our attention. The side-splitting laughter of watching middle-aged youthworkers play outrageous mixer games can be the snowball that Jesus uses to wake us up. Even while feeling insecure about the "calling" of God on my life, I was hit with a snowball today.

We broke into small groups and we were asked to write on a note card: a burden, struggle or habitual sin that has been dogging us. The group was to elect and "pastor" to gather the burdens and exchange them for a small container of anointing oil from the platform. After the exchange, the "pastor" was to return to the small group and anoint the person to the left of them with oil while reciting "My the light of Christ renew your spirit." After a moment of polite banter, the group elected me to be the "pastor". That moment I felt like I had been hit by a snowball. But this one wasn't made out of snow. It was made of God's light. Tears were flowing as I walked up to the platform to release not only my burden, but the burdens of all my small group family. I laid the burdens down and collected the bottle of oil. The oil was light, hope and purpose all held in a small plastic travel shampoo container. Returning to the group I wondered If I would be able to speak for the emotion pouring from my eyes and voice, but as I turned, I knew I wanted with all my heart for Jesus to flood my neighbor's heart with renewing light. So I threw the snowball.

They passed the blessing to the next person, and so it continued until it was B's to anoint me with oil. Pastoring is caring for and lifting each other up. I started the chain, but each person in that room was a "pastor" to their neighbor. I offered a prayer of thanksgiving to God for this expression of grace and forgiveness and asked if others wanted to pray. Some did, some didn't but the wonderful thing was that each person was hit by a snowball. Fear, doubt, discouragement and despair melted away like remainders of ice from Niagara Falls in April. Some were big and some were small, but the thaw that starts today will continue to melt the burdens of my heart.

The core of my burden comes from the fear of not having a place with Jesus. I know that is impossible. Jesus accepts me, love's me and has a place for me...no matter where I am. My core isn't in what I don't have, but in what I do have. Jesus is the one that can get to the core of things and help me to exchange my burden for his light.

No matter where I am: Jesus is my core. No matter what work I do: Jesus is my core. No matter what the future holds: Jesus is my core.

Review: The Book of God by Walter Wangerin

Walter Wangerin's Book of God is a true oddity in the world of publishing: a book based on another book. And not just any book -- The Bible, in fact. When I came across this book at Borders in Erie PA, I wondered what the purpose could be of adding yet another version of the scriptures to the dozens of translations and paraphrases already lining the shelves. I'm sure I wouldn't have given it more than a passing glace but for Wangerin's reputation as a master storyteller. After leafing through the book, I was intrigued enough to pick up a copy.

The Book of God doesn't really claim to be a Bible. It's more a chronological retelling of the Bible. It begins with Abram and ends with the birth of the church. Even though I've grown up hearing about these events all my life, the book finally helped me tie it all together as one story. Wangerin breathes life and personality into the characters who are usually only remembered by one significant event in their lives. Sometimes I found myself thinking, "that part couldn't be in the Bible," only to look it up to find that it was really there.

So often Christians have reduced the Bible to a book of mere rules and propositions. The Book of God is different in that it causes one to look at the totality of a character's life, and not just at the couple of verses we memorized in Sunday School. I found myself regularly reflecting on the people and events in a way that I seldom have before. What a discovery process. My only criticism of the book is the last few pages. Wangerin seems like he is rushing to a conclusion and trying to hit every "theological biggie" by the end. I missed the leisurely pace of the rest of the book.

I would recommend The Book of God to anyone who wants to get a good overview of the story of the Bible. I would also suggest that pastoral staff consider incorporating its reading into the confirmation or discipleship process of the church.

Quote of the Moment

"Life moves pretty fast, if you don't stop to look around once in a while you could miss it." -- Ferris Bueller