'Tis the season to be offended.
Let's face it, America today is infested by a big gaggle of crybabies that feels the overwhelming desire to keep thin skin, carry a chip on their shoulder, and be offended at the drop of a hat. One segment of this tribe is offended if you have a Jesus-centered display, the other segment is offended if you don't. We hear moans and groans about the political correctness or religiosity of statements like "Season's Greetings", "Happy Holidays" and "Merry Christmas". I can just see the hate and ire embedded in each of these horribly offensive statements and I know why you could equal each one to the good ol' one-fingered wave.
Frankly, I am offended that they are offended. Let's build a bridge and get over it.
That in mind, there is one particular offensive statement that I want to disarm right now. The dreaded, terrible, horrible one. The one that makes small children cry for their mommies and leaves grown men suffering mind-altering nightmares that sit up in bed with a scream and a cold sweat. That right, I mean that one the big one. The X--- one.
So why is it that we have "Xmas"? Where did it come from. Obviously, some liberal set out on a campaign to "x-out" Christ from Christmas. That is the only answer.
Or is it?
Let's try this one: The “X” in Xmas is in no way an attempt to eliminate Christ from Christmas. On the contrary, “Xmas” goes back several centuries in Church history and is even evident in many traditions and denominations of the Church today. Instead of being an English alphabet “x” the letter is actually a Greek letter Chi that is the first portion of the monogram of Christ as shown in the labarum – “Chi-Rho” – represented in the Greek “XP”. The Greek word “Χριστός” is the word we translate into English as “Christ”. So just as we might shorten the name Christopher to Chris we could also shorten Χριστός to X. And people have used this shortened version for several centuries – not as a substitution, but as a more familiar and casual expression.
Here is the funny part. This simple knowledge can allow one of the offended groups to drop the argument entirely. We can have some peace on Christmas (or Xmas) by just smiling when we see it, knowing what it means and knowing that if an ignorant person thinks they are trying to "x-out" Jesus, they are really just identifying Him in a more familiar and casual manner and that Christ is honored - what was meant for evil has been used for good.
I hope that you did not allow the beginning of this one offend you to the point of not reaching this far. I hope you find the meaning of Christmas in that Christ can for peace, good will toward men. Most of all I hope you have a blessed and holy Xmas.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Fingers - Not just for the government.
A bit of a continuation. George Thorogood and Jim Beam are along for the ride. So pour you a couple of fingers of your own and enjoy!
So last time around Hamilton was hurling us toward Obama as if we'd been shot from a canon. It didn't happen overnight. It was a slow process.
Much of early America was settled by fine people from the lands we know as Ireland and Scotland. These people blessed us all with the delicacy that we call whiskey. And while whiskey comes in many varieties the people that were making it in the early days of America were a little more homogeneous. They were, as a general rule, an "I'll mind my business, you mind yours and we'll both give the government the finger" variety.
Well, Mr Hamilton could ill afford to have free men making free booze while he was in the midst of the greatest bait-and-switch in the history of Western Civilization. These guys were going to be an excellent way for him to set a precedent that Congress could tax free enterprise and therefore make it less free. So in 1790, barely a year after our new Federal Government took power, he began to lobby for an excise tax on domestically distilled spirits - essentially telling these rowdy guys, many of whom had fought King George because of taxes, that they had to pay the Feds if they were going to peddle their John Barleycorn.
The people most affected by this tax would be farmers that lived west of the Appalachians and used their excess corn to make whiskey to make their harvest profitable instead of just letting it rot and cutting their losses. These were small business people - the folks that are always hurt the most by tax hikes. And if the little guys suffer the big guys and the government reap the benefits. Did I mention that the nation's largest producer of whiskey during these times was a man named George Washington?
And so these farmers and distillers decided that if they could stand in a field against the world's most powerful empire, they could stand in a field to face the Johnny-come-latelys that were sending these tax bills. So these men started with Liberty Poles and militia groups and then began to escalate their grievances much as they had against the King just a few years earlier.
And then it came to a head. Just as George III before them, Hamilton and Washington nationalized the militia and then sent armed soldiers to force taxes on free men. And the very government "conceived in liberty" pulled the first of many armed robberies. The farmers backed down and the government got the cash. While violence was largely avoided, the point was made, "Question the authority of the Federal Government and, regardless of the Bill of Rights, we will shoot you.".
Hamilton began to centralize all fiscal policy and the economy and Washington was able to run off some of the competition. More power in the seat of government, less at the American dinner table.
As the whiskey issue progressed, the time would come that the industry became so regulated that there is actually a statute in the Federal Code of Regulations that governs the process and standards that have to be met to call a liquid substance "Bourbon" or "Whiskey" in the United States. It isn't just these two spirits but these are the pertinent ones. It's "Title 27 Part 5-21 & 22" for those curious enough to look.
And so came a important event in American History. Whiskey went underground and moved South. And the struggle was just beginning.
So last time around Hamilton was hurling us toward Obama as if we'd been shot from a canon. It didn't happen overnight. It was a slow process.
Much of early America was settled by fine people from the lands we know as Ireland and Scotland. These people blessed us all with the delicacy that we call whiskey. And while whiskey comes in many varieties the people that were making it in the early days of America were a little more homogeneous. They were, as a general rule, an "I'll mind my business, you mind yours and we'll both give the government the finger" variety.
Well, Mr Hamilton could ill afford to have free men making free booze while he was in the midst of the greatest bait-and-switch in the history of Western Civilization. These guys were going to be an excellent way for him to set a precedent that Congress could tax free enterprise and therefore make it less free. So in 1790, barely a year after our new Federal Government took power, he began to lobby for an excise tax on domestically distilled spirits - essentially telling these rowdy guys, many of whom had fought King George because of taxes, that they had to pay the Feds if they were going to peddle their John Barleycorn.
The people most affected by this tax would be farmers that lived west of the Appalachians and used their excess corn to make whiskey to make their harvest profitable instead of just letting it rot and cutting their losses. These were small business people - the folks that are always hurt the most by tax hikes. And if the little guys suffer the big guys and the government reap the benefits. Did I mention that the nation's largest producer of whiskey during these times was a man named George Washington?
And so these farmers and distillers decided that if they could stand in a field against the world's most powerful empire, they could stand in a field to face the Johnny-come-latelys that were sending these tax bills. So these men started with Liberty Poles and militia groups and then began to escalate their grievances much as they had against the King just a few years earlier.
And then it came to a head. Just as George III before them, Hamilton and Washington nationalized the militia and then sent armed soldiers to force taxes on free men. And the very government "conceived in liberty" pulled the first of many armed robberies. The farmers backed down and the government got the cash. While violence was largely avoided, the point was made, "Question the authority of the Federal Government and, regardless of the Bill of Rights, we will shoot you.".
Hamilton began to centralize all fiscal policy and the economy and Washington was able to run off some of the competition. More power in the seat of government, less at the American dinner table.
As the whiskey issue progressed, the time would come that the industry became so regulated that there is actually a statute in the Federal Code of Regulations that governs the process and standards that have to be met to call a liquid substance "Bourbon" or "Whiskey" in the United States. It isn't just these two spirits but these are the pertinent ones. It's "Title 27 Part 5-21 & 22" for those curious enough to look.
And so came a important event in American History. Whiskey went underground and moved South. And the struggle was just beginning.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Back to the Future
"When are we going to ever use this?" the naive tenth grade boy asks his American History teacher. The well-informed instructor, knowing the importance that the strand of historical events holds for our present reality replies "The first Tuesday of every November starting at age 18 until they throw dirt on your coffin."
I have been wanting to shed some light on history and why it is so important for me and a couple of good friends (one is the best platonic friend I - or anyone else for that matter - has ever had) supplied me the inspiration I needed to get the ball rolling. So I'll tell you exactly why I care about past leaders as much as I do present ones.
Because without Alexander Hamilton there would have never been a Barack Obama.
That sounds pretty far-fetched but it is a fact. The current struggle that we watch between conservatives and liberals today started about 15 minutes after the ink of the Declaration of Independence dried. Two schools of political thought sprung up immediately and grabbed each other by the throat. One (that understood the rules of grammar) began statements with "The united States are..." while their counterparts claimed "The United States is...". The difference does not look that substantial at first but, grammar aside, the two could not be more dissimilar. I'll be more specific.
The Anti-federalists would tell you that the united States are a collection of free, sovereign and independent states (nations) that have joined themselves together loosely for common trade and defense but that mind their own business in intrastate matters.
The Federalists would tell you that The United States is a powerful union divided into separate subordinate jurisdictions that have very little autonomy and no right to challenge the authority of the union itself.
And who said a little grammar isn't important on Election Day?
And then these two groups set claws into each other while brave men faced off against Redcoats sent by King George who said "The United States is going to do what I say or I'll burn it to the ground."
So much for "The King's English".
Well, we know of the Declaration and we know of the Constitution. Well, the Declaration was approved in 1776 and the Constitution was ratified in 1788. That leaves the fledgling nation in a state of complete anarchy for almost 12 years. Or maybe not. The Second Continental Congress called for the drafting of Articles of Confederation in June of 1776. The Articles of Confederation were ratified in 1781 but served as the de facto system of governance as of November 1777. Thirteen individual nations banded together loosely enough to maintain their own identity but tightly enough to stand together against common threats. Sort of like a family of brothers that like to be their own men but would never let a bully waylay one of their own.
Back to my Hamilton claim. Hamilton was one of the Federalists. He was one of the authors of the Federalist Papers. He, as well as the other Federalists, believed that the Articles of Confederation lacked something. They somehow were not strong enough. They were strong enough to enable 13 rag tag nations to upset the most powerful nation of the era - perhaps the greatest empire to ever grace the face of the Earth - and force the massive empire to surrender. (to put this in today's jargon, it would be similar to a single outlet mall putting the entire Wal-Mart corporation out of business.) But they weren't strong enough to rule those same 13 nations.
The government needed power. And in order to do that the Articles had to go.
So the Federalists fought for a strong Constitution and a centralized Federal government that would have authority and could offer stability. The Anti-federalists fought back with writings and debates of their own and when the Federalists took the upper hand and central government began to loom as unavoidable, the brilliant Antis came up with ways to assure State sovereignty - an Electoral College to elect the Executive and having the Senate be elected by the state legislatures. Many provisions were included to ensure that States would plot their own laws and decide what was best for themselves. As the fight for the States continued, the Federalists got their central government but the Antis forced it into the smallest central government possible and then drafted 10 Amendments, a Bill of Rights, to cripple it.
And then came more amendments.
At first they were benign, even beneficial. "President and Vice President run together one the same ticket", "You can't own another human being" and "black people can vote".
And then they took a turn for the weird. "A grown man is not allowed to make, buy, posses or drink a beer" and "We have the right to steal money from your paycheck before you even see it". One of these was to be repealed and the other not - they reversed that. Now if you have enough money after taxes you can buy yourself a taxed beer.
And then things really deteriorated. (I'm skipping some steps but will revisit them in future articles). The Feds started taxing everything. Gasoline, durable goods, inventory, booze, utility bills (You have to pay a tax to pay your bill? Really?), literally everything. The Feds tax enough to make George III say, "Hey, wait just a minute! This is ridiculous!". And then came "czars" that answer to no one and don't exist in the Constitution. Then there were agencies like the EPA that can disregard the 4th Amendment. There were entitlement programs where people get money to not work - paid for by people that have to work to be taxed to support the entitlements.
And then states decide to vote on laws to enforce existing Federal immigration policies, to allow or disallow homosexuals to marry, to allow people to posses and use small amounts of marijuana (all things falling under Amendment X)- and the Feds stepped in every time - if not to reverse, to threaten to reverse.
Now Hamilton has succeeded. Instead of "the united States are" it is becoming more along the lines of "The Union of American Socialist Republics is". The states have no rights. The have no autonomy, no identity, no ability to govern themselves.
And so arises a Messiah that can use the immense powers of the Federal government to pay our medical bills, appease foreign despots, bring peace to the world, even change global weather patterns.All because of a strong Federal government and he'll be able to do more if he can pass "sweeping new powers" on a regular basis, appoint more czars, raise more taxes, spend more money, borrow more money from people who'd prefer we were dead. Makes perfect sense to me.
This is Hamilton's dream - except for the part where he is the king. It came through many historic figures to certain degrees: Washington, Jackson, Lincoln, two Johnsons, two Roosevelts, Wilson, Carter, Clinton, two Bushes and now an Obama. They've been helped by a slew of governors, congressmen, senators, justices, cronies, lobyists, etc
But that's another story for another day.
I have been wanting to shed some light on history and why it is so important for me and a couple of good friends (one is the best platonic friend I - or anyone else for that matter - has ever had) supplied me the inspiration I needed to get the ball rolling. So I'll tell you exactly why I care about past leaders as much as I do present ones.
Because without Alexander Hamilton there would have never been a Barack Obama.
That sounds pretty far-fetched but it is a fact. The current struggle that we watch between conservatives and liberals today started about 15 minutes after the ink of the Declaration of Independence dried. Two schools of political thought sprung up immediately and grabbed each other by the throat. One (that understood the rules of grammar) began statements with "The united States are..." while their counterparts claimed "The United States is...". The difference does not look that substantial at first but, grammar aside, the two could not be more dissimilar. I'll be more specific.
The Anti-federalists would tell you that the united States are a collection of free, sovereign and independent states (nations) that have joined themselves together loosely for common trade and defense but that mind their own business in intrastate matters.
The Federalists would tell you that The United States is a powerful union divided into separate subordinate jurisdictions that have very little autonomy and no right to challenge the authority of the union itself.
And who said a little grammar isn't important on Election Day?
And then these two groups set claws into each other while brave men faced off against Redcoats sent by King George who said "The United States is going to do what I say or I'll burn it to the ground."
So much for "The King's English".
Well, we know of the Declaration and we know of the Constitution. Well, the Declaration was approved in 1776 and the Constitution was ratified in 1788. That leaves the fledgling nation in a state of complete anarchy for almost 12 years. Or maybe not. The Second Continental Congress called for the drafting of Articles of Confederation in June of 1776. The Articles of Confederation were ratified in 1781 but served as the de facto system of governance as of November 1777. Thirteen individual nations banded together loosely enough to maintain their own identity but tightly enough to stand together against common threats. Sort of like a family of brothers that like to be their own men but would never let a bully waylay one of their own.
Back to my Hamilton claim. Hamilton was one of the Federalists. He was one of the authors of the Federalist Papers. He, as well as the other Federalists, believed that the Articles of Confederation lacked something. They somehow were not strong enough. They were strong enough to enable 13 rag tag nations to upset the most powerful nation of the era - perhaps the greatest empire to ever grace the face of the Earth - and force the massive empire to surrender. (to put this in today's jargon, it would be similar to a single outlet mall putting the entire Wal-Mart corporation out of business.) But they weren't strong enough to rule those same 13 nations.
The government needed power. And in order to do that the Articles had to go.
So the Federalists fought for a strong Constitution and a centralized Federal government that would have authority and could offer stability. The Anti-federalists fought back with writings and debates of their own and when the Federalists took the upper hand and central government began to loom as unavoidable, the brilliant Antis came up with ways to assure State sovereignty - an Electoral College to elect the Executive and having the Senate be elected by the state legislatures. Many provisions were included to ensure that States would plot their own laws and decide what was best for themselves. As the fight for the States continued, the Federalists got their central government but the Antis forced it into the smallest central government possible and then drafted 10 Amendments, a Bill of Rights, to cripple it.
And then came more amendments.
At first they were benign, even beneficial. "President and Vice President run together one the same ticket", "You can't own another human being" and "black people can vote".
And then they took a turn for the weird. "A grown man is not allowed to make, buy, posses or drink a beer" and "We have the right to steal money from your paycheck before you even see it". One of these was to be repealed and the other not - they reversed that. Now if you have enough money after taxes you can buy yourself a taxed beer.
And then things really deteriorated. (I'm skipping some steps but will revisit them in future articles). The Feds started taxing everything. Gasoline, durable goods, inventory, booze, utility bills (You have to pay a tax to pay your bill? Really?), literally everything. The Feds tax enough to make George III say, "Hey, wait just a minute! This is ridiculous!". And then came "czars" that answer to no one and don't exist in the Constitution. Then there were agencies like the EPA that can disregard the 4th Amendment. There were entitlement programs where people get money to not work - paid for by people that have to work to be taxed to support the entitlements.
And then states decide to vote on laws to enforce existing Federal immigration policies, to allow or disallow homosexuals to marry, to allow people to posses and use small amounts of marijuana (all things falling under Amendment X)- and the Feds stepped in every time - if not to reverse, to threaten to reverse.
Now Hamilton has succeeded. Instead of "the united States are" it is becoming more along the lines of "The Union of American Socialist Republics is". The states have no rights. The have no autonomy, no identity, no ability to govern themselves.
And so arises a Messiah that can use the immense powers of the Federal government to pay our medical bills, appease foreign despots, bring peace to the world, even change global weather patterns.All because of a strong Federal government and he'll be able to do more if he can pass "sweeping new powers" on a regular basis, appoint more czars, raise more taxes, spend more money, borrow more money from people who'd prefer we were dead. Makes perfect sense to me.
This is Hamilton's dream - except for the part where he is the king. It came through many historic figures to certain degrees: Washington, Jackson, Lincoln, two Johnsons, two Roosevelts, Wilson, Carter, Clinton, two Bushes and now an Obama. They've been helped by a slew of governors, congressmen, senators, justices, cronies, lobyists, etc
But that's another story for another day.
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Boise Question
Yeah, I have to go there. My love for college football keeps drawing me to the story about the team from Idaho that just wins. Yeah, their turf is putrid - even more than regular fake grass. Yes they have a conference schedule that is made up of smaller, less significant programs that are seen by so many as "weaker" than other conferences. And Boise continues to win.
Some of the criticism is warranted. That isn't the toughest conference around. Some of the criticism can't be helped. There isn't exactly a line of big-time programs out there waiting to face off against the Broncos. And the teams that do show up - take Virginia Tech and Oregon State for examples this season - typically leave disappointed.
Regardless, the criticism is consistent - "They don't belong in the BCS"
Really? Let's look at this argument.
Boise has had two opportunities to participate in the BCS and they have a 2-0 record to show for it. In the 2007 Fiesta Bowl they defeated The Oklahoma Sooners 43-42. Then just last season they defeated TCU in the Fiesta Bowl 17-10.
And then there are the teams that "belong". The teams that sports writers and analysts never criticize when BCS polls are published or when selections are made for teams to participate in the BCS.
Oklahoma has lost their last five appearances in the BCS - including a loss to Boise, a 55-19 loss to Southern California and a 48-28 loss to West Virginia. And yet it never crosses any one's mind that the Sooners don't belong in the BCS.
Ohio State posted back-to-back pummelings at the hand of SEC opponents in their last two appearances in the BCS Championship game. The Buckeyes have posted a 2-3 record in their last 5 BCS appearances and the two victories were over Oregon and Notre Dame - both of which will be addressed shortly.
Oregon is 1-1 in BCS action and haven't won a BCS game since the 2002 Fiesta Bowl win over Colorado. They play in the Pac-10 with powerhouses like Washington State and Cal. They lost last season's Rose Bowl to Ohio State. See above - enough said.
Notre Dame. Really? The team that has not won a National title since 1988 and has not threatened to win one since 1993. Despite this recent lack of football success, Notre Dame is allowed to appeal to the BCS as if it were an entire conference all to itself. So this one school has the same bargaining power as the accumulated 12 schools of the SEC - winners of the last 4 (meaning every one ever held) BCS Title Games and 5 of the last 7 National Championships. This is without considering the fact that the 2004 Auburn Tigers were robbed if the trophy. And yet Notre Dame plays cupcakes all year every year. No one questions their presence in the BCS. For the record, Notre Dame's BCS record is 0-3 - including a 41-14 spanking by LSU and a 41-9 embarrassment by Oregon State.
So back to Boise. All of this craziness, all of this severe mediocrity, all these big schools have had their shot - and have been shot down time and time again. Boise has had two chances. They've won both times. That is more than I can say for the two teams that currently are standing between them and a chance for the Crystal Football. Why not give the Broncos a chance, if they win out, and if they lose 41-14 we allow them to play in the Rose Bowl in perpetuity.
What do we have to lose?
Some of the criticism is warranted. That isn't the toughest conference around. Some of the criticism can't be helped. There isn't exactly a line of big-time programs out there waiting to face off against the Broncos. And the teams that do show up - take Virginia Tech and Oregon State for examples this season - typically leave disappointed.
Regardless, the criticism is consistent - "They don't belong in the BCS"
Really? Let's look at this argument.
Boise has had two opportunities to participate in the BCS and they have a 2-0 record to show for it. In the 2007 Fiesta Bowl they defeated The Oklahoma Sooners 43-42. Then just last season they defeated TCU in the Fiesta Bowl 17-10.
And then there are the teams that "belong". The teams that sports writers and analysts never criticize when BCS polls are published or when selections are made for teams to participate in the BCS.
Oklahoma has lost their last five appearances in the BCS - including a loss to Boise, a 55-19 loss to Southern California and a 48-28 loss to West Virginia. And yet it never crosses any one's mind that the Sooners don't belong in the BCS.
Ohio State posted back-to-back pummelings at the hand of SEC opponents in their last two appearances in the BCS Championship game. The Buckeyes have posted a 2-3 record in their last 5 BCS appearances and the two victories were over Oregon and Notre Dame - both of which will be addressed shortly.
Oregon is 1-1 in BCS action and haven't won a BCS game since the 2002 Fiesta Bowl win over Colorado. They play in the Pac-10 with powerhouses like Washington State and Cal. They lost last season's Rose Bowl to Ohio State. See above - enough said.
Notre Dame. Really? The team that has not won a National title since 1988 and has not threatened to win one since 1993. Despite this recent lack of football success, Notre Dame is allowed to appeal to the BCS as if it were an entire conference all to itself. So this one school has the same bargaining power as the accumulated 12 schools of the SEC - winners of the last 4 (meaning every one ever held) BCS Title Games and 5 of the last 7 National Championships. This is without considering the fact that the 2004 Auburn Tigers were robbed if the trophy. And yet Notre Dame plays cupcakes all year every year. No one questions their presence in the BCS. For the record, Notre Dame's BCS record is 0-3 - including a 41-14 spanking by LSU and a 41-9 embarrassment by Oregon State.
So back to Boise. All of this craziness, all of this severe mediocrity, all these big schools have had their shot - and have been shot down time and time again. Boise has had two chances. They've won both times. That is more than I can say for the two teams that currently are standing between them and a chance for the Crystal Football. Why not give the Broncos a chance, if they win out, and if they lose 41-14 we allow them to play in the Rose Bowl in perpetuity.
What do we have to lose?
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tradition - not always a bad thing.
Tradition. The word gives me conflicting feelings. There are so many positives and yet so many negatives. For years, I despised the mention of the word - partially because I hate the way people get bogged down in it and refuse to change and partially because I refused to realize how important it was to my own life.
But I recently had an experience that has shown me the importance of tradition and it has taken a few weeks for the lesson to sink in completely.
I spent four years working with the football program at Jacksonville State University (yes, the ones on SportsCenter after beating Ole Miss). I was there under legendary coach Bill Burgess. Coach Burgess used a hard-hitting, old school approach to football and life. He built a tradition that we were all proud to be a part of. It was an experience that was instrumental in my life. Even now, I use lessons I learned on the game and practice fields of that era.
Without getting into gory details of backstabbing and conniving politicians, most of whom are now dead and basically forgotten, Coach Burgess, the coach with the highest winning percentage in school history and the program's only national championship - won on the field and not in a poll - was fired and ran off of campus. It was shameful and disgraceful.
Years passed and the men known as "Burgess Boys" - all the assistant coaches, players, equipment managers and trainers that served under Coach Burgess began to organize and lobby for an honor for our great coach.
In the meantime our team went on a roller coaster ride. There was the incompetent successor of our coach, who managed to lose the respect of every person in the athletic department in a matter of months. And then there was the hiring of a man who had been out of coaching for years - a man that began to restore the program and try to connect the players to the heritage of the team. While the team had been successful in recent years there just seemed to be something missing.
So when the University launched a massive stadium renovation and expansion project the Burgess Boys knew just what needed to be done. Our coach's named needed to be on that facility somewhere. So many of my former colleagues took to the campaign. After months of publicity and pressure from Burgess Boys and every sportswriter that knew of the effort, the university finally agreed to cease the the attempts to wipe Burgess from the memory of the program. They agreed to name the field after him.
In a fitting ceremony, this season's home opener was a dedication of the new stadium and a renaming of the field. Our coach was honored at mid-field, the band played, the fans cheered, Burgess Boys came out in droves to encourage the players and a video screen played highlights from the Burgess Era and declared "This house was built by champions, for champions". The connection to heritage - our championship football tradition - was made. No longer would kids ask about the strange trophies in the lobby and wonder where they came from. Tradition was finally paroled and would once again be part of the program. That was what the team was missing all these years - the knowledge of where they came from. The confidence of knowing who they were when they wore "Gamecocks" on their jersey.
Since that evening I have thought about the implications of what happened - not only for the team but for me and my family. As I raise my sons, it is important for me to teach them who they are, where they came from and why they are important. The spiritual, cultural, familial, and educational significance of tradition is now evident to me even more than ever before. It is vital to their success.
And so I can add to the lessons provided to me by Jax State football. Over ten years after leaving the field house for the last time I have learned the importance of filtering out the difference between tradition and monotony, between heritage and humdrum.
But I recently had an experience that has shown me the importance of tradition and it has taken a few weeks for the lesson to sink in completely.
I spent four years working with the football program at Jacksonville State University (yes, the ones on SportsCenter after beating Ole Miss). I was there under legendary coach Bill Burgess. Coach Burgess used a hard-hitting, old school approach to football and life. He built a tradition that we were all proud to be a part of. It was an experience that was instrumental in my life. Even now, I use lessons I learned on the game and practice fields of that era.
Without getting into gory details of backstabbing and conniving politicians, most of whom are now dead and basically forgotten, Coach Burgess, the coach with the highest winning percentage in school history and the program's only national championship - won on the field and not in a poll - was fired and ran off of campus. It was shameful and disgraceful.
Years passed and the men known as "Burgess Boys" - all the assistant coaches, players, equipment managers and trainers that served under Coach Burgess began to organize and lobby for an honor for our great coach.
In the meantime our team went on a roller coaster ride. There was the incompetent successor of our coach, who managed to lose the respect of every person in the athletic department in a matter of months. And then there was the hiring of a man who had been out of coaching for years - a man that began to restore the program and try to connect the players to the heritage of the team. While the team had been successful in recent years there just seemed to be something missing.
So when the University launched a massive stadium renovation and expansion project the Burgess Boys knew just what needed to be done. Our coach's named needed to be on that facility somewhere. So many of my former colleagues took to the campaign. After months of publicity and pressure from Burgess Boys and every sportswriter that knew of the effort, the university finally agreed to cease the the attempts to wipe Burgess from the memory of the program. They agreed to name the field after him.
In a fitting ceremony, this season's home opener was a dedication of the new stadium and a renaming of the field. Our coach was honored at mid-field, the band played, the fans cheered, Burgess Boys came out in droves to encourage the players and a video screen played highlights from the Burgess Era and declared "This house was built by champions, for champions". The connection to heritage - our championship football tradition - was made. No longer would kids ask about the strange trophies in the lobby and wonder where they came from. Tradition was finally paroled and would once again be part of the program. That was what the team was missing all these years - the knowledge of where they came from. The confidence of knowing who they were when they wore "Gamecocks" on their jersey.
Since that evening I have thought about the implications of what happened - not only for the team but for me and my family. As I raise my sons, it is important for me to teach them who they are, where they came from and why they are important. The spiritual, cultural, familial, and educational significance of tradition is now evident to me even more than ever before. It is vital to their success.
And so I can add to the lessons provided to me by Jax State football. Over ten years after leaving the field house for the last time I have learned the importance of filtering out the difference between tradition and monotony, between heritage and humdrum.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The Right to Read
"I cannot live without books" -Thomas Jefferson
"The best of my education has come from the public library... my tuition fee is a bus fare and once in a while, five cents a day for an overdue book. You don't need to know very much to start with, if you know the way to the public library" - Lesley Conger
"The books that help you the most are those which make you think the most" - Theodore Parker
"The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them." - Mark Twain
"The proper study of mankind is books." - Aldous Huxley
"How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book." - Henry David Thoreau
I'm a book junkie. I don't mean a Kindle or iPad junkie. I mean paper and ink bound in a manner in which you can hold the substance of it in your hand. I like the way a book feels on the fingers and the way they can be arranged on a shelf. And a good book is a true joy. Credit this quote to me...because I just said it now.
In honor of Banned Books Week, I have decided to share these quotes with anyone willing to read them. In each one of these quotes I find a truth that tugs at my heart. I cannot imagine a life spent without books. We are blessed in America to have a practically limitless access to books. It is also true that books have had a profound impact on my thinking, my understanding of myself and others, my faith, my political views, my outlook on being a father and a husband, my competency in my career - just say "everything". It all evolved out of books.
I'd love to finger-point, place blame, line up the usual suspects for identification. But I'm not going to. Simple and to the point banning books cannot be of benefit to our society. Period. If we are committed to free speech, intellectual honesty, open exchange of ideas and any sense of a meaningful education, we cannot limit access to books and the impact they have on our life.
There are many excuses that people use to try to stifle the voice of people they disagree with. But in the end, that is all that can be produced - excuses. I've spent the last few minutes scanning a list of the most commonly challenged books in America and was proud to see how many of them I have read and even more proud to see some of my sons' favorites on the list as well. Hopefully they are going to grow up to know that all good books have been banned somewhere at some time.
A quick example - The greatest book ever penned in the South, and therefore on this continent, was "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. People have lobbied to ban it from various locales because, true to the setting and the era of the book, people used "the 'n' word" when referring to black people. There were also several depictions of a shameful era in our history where people were mistreated, denied justice, oppressed, even killed because of their skin color. I'm glad that my kids will have such literature that will show them how ignorant our forebears were and how far we have come. I also want them to be able to wear Tom's shoes and sit in the defendant's chair at the Macomb County Courthouse and know why it is so very important that we never go back. "TKAM" is one of the most important books ever penned in the South. Banning is ignorance on the same level as the Ewell clan.
I have, in the past, decided to read books that have been challenged or banned to get to the real root of why they are so evil.. If you care to do the same I'll include links to lists of banned and challenged books. See for yourself if you have been partaking of filth and see if you'd like to imbibe further:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_most-commonly_challenged_books_in_the_United_States
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_books_banned_by_governments
http://www.ala.org/ala/issuesadvocacy/banned/frequentlychallenged/challengedclassics/index.cfm
Dangerous stuff. Happy reading and remember, you don't have to burn a book to destroy it. You merely have to make sure no one reads it.
"The best of my education has come from the public library... my tuition fee is a bus fare and once in a while, five cents a day for an overdue book. You don't need to know very much to start with, if you know the way to the public library" - Lesley Conger
"The books that help you the most are those which make you think the most" - Theodore Parker
"The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them." - Mark Twain
"The proper study of mankind is books." - Aldous Huxley
"How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book." - Henry David Thoreau
I'm a book junkie. I don't mean a Kindle or iPad junkie. I mean paper and ink bound in a manner in which you can hold the substance of it in your hand. I like the way a book feels on the fingers and the way they can be arranged on a shelf. And a good book is a true joy. Credit this quote to me...because I just said it now.
In honor of Banned Books Week, I have decided to share these quotes with anyone willing to read them. In each one of these quotes I find a truth that tugs at my heart. I cannot imagine a life spent without books. We are blessed in America to have a practically limitless access to books. It is also true that books have had a profound impact on my thinking, my understanding of myself and others, my faith, my political views, my outlook on being a father and a husband, my competency in my career - just say "everything". It all evolved out of books.
I'd love to finger-point, place blame, line up the usual suspects for identification. But I'm not going to. Simple and to the point banning books cannot be of benefit to our society. Period. If we are committed to free speech, intellectual honesty, open exchange of ideas and any sense of a meaningful education, we cannot limit access to books and the impact they have on our life.
There are many excuses that people use to try to stifle the voice of people they disagree with. But in the end, that is all that can be produced - excuses. I've spent the last few minutes scanning a list of the most commonly challenged books in America and was proud to see how many of them I have read and even more proud to see some of my sons' favorites on the list as well. Hopefully they are going to grow up to know that all good books have been banned somewhere at some time.
A quick example - The greatest book ever penned in the South, and therefore on this continent, was "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. People have lobbied to ban it from various locales because, true to the setting and the era of the book, people used "the 'n' word" when referring to black people. There were also several depictions of a shameful era in our history where people were mistreated, denied justice, oppressed, even killed because of their skin color. I'm glad that my kids will have such literature that will show them how ignorant our forebears were and how far we have come. I also want them to be able to wear Tom's shoes and sit in the defendant's chair at the Macomb County Courthouse and know why it is so very important that we never go back. "TKAM" is one of the most important books ever penned in the South. Banning is ignorance on the same level as the Ewell clan.
I have, in the past, decided to read books that have been challenged or banned to get to the real root of why they are so evil.. If you care to do the same I'll include links to lists of banned and challenged books. See for yourself if you have been partaking of filth and see if you'd like to imbibe further:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_most-commonly_challenged_books_in_the_United_States
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_books_banned_by_governments
http://www.ala.org/ala/issuesadvocacy/banned/frequentlychallenged/challengedclassics/index.cfm
Dangerous stuff. Happy reading and remember, you don't have to burn a book to destroy it. You merely have to make sure no one reads it.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
The Legacy of a Lost Boy
I'm a proud dad this morning. My middle son has a role in our local community theatre's production of Peter Pan. He isn't in a major role - but I couldn't be any more proud if he were the Pan himself. He plays a supporting "Lost Boy" role that isn't even named in the script. Those who know and love him know the character as "Dirty Dan" - the dirtiest Lost Boy of them all.
I enjoyed watching him crawl in and out of the tunnels into the cave, playing amongst fairies, trying to catch mermaids and defying Captain James Hook on the deck of the Jolly Roger. In the closing scenes of the show, he flew to London with the other Lost Boys to be adopted by the Darling family. My last glimpse of him was as he was led out of the night nursery door towards the drawing room which was to be his new abode.
What followed his exit was what gave me the idea for this entry. Our Narrator, "James M. Barrie" himself, went on to explain that while Peter remained in Neverland as a boy forever, all the other boys eventually quit believing and grew up to be men with families of their own. Wendy would become too old to make the flights to Neverland and her daughter, Jane would serve as Peter's mother. And then Jane's daughter Margaret would succeed her. And the tradition would continue.
And then the question came to my mind - "I wonder what became of my beloved Dirty Dan?"
We often hear what happens to the famous, the well known, the high profile people in our society. We learn of their triumphs and tragedies alike. But we often lose track of the regular folks - those whose names aren't listed in the script, unless there is some special connection to them.
Since there is a special connection between me and Dirty Dan, I wanted to know what became of him. There is the sad thought that he could have lived in Neverland and then become so jaded or cynical as to forget the glories of a part of his life lived in such a magical place and lived in such a way as to be the envy of real boys everywhere. There was also my curiosity about what career he chose, who he married, what his children were like and if they would ever know what an amazing childhood their father had.
And then it hit me. "That's all up to Dan".
Dan, like the rest of us, had the opportunity to lay out his legacy. He would live the story that would be told about him. His legacy would depend on the life he lived.
While Dirty Dan was a fictional boy who was adopted by a fictional man, the actor playing the role is a very real boy with an equally real dad. I see the moral of Dan's story, at least for me, is that I have the opportunity to give the real boy the tools to build the legacy that he will leave to real children and grandchildren - and to give him the tales of my own legacy to pass along. If I give him nothing to share, my own role will be one that is not even mentioned in the "script" of his life and he will probably cease to believe. And I will fade into obscurity.
That's some pretty heavy stuff to get from a simple kids' show in a small town theatre in Georgia. Just the ramblings of a proud dad that wants to make his son proud as well.
I enjoyed watching him crawl in and out of the tunnels into the cave, playing amongst fairies, trying to catch mermaids and defying Captain James Hook on the deck of the Jolly Roger. In the closing scenes of the show, he flew to London with the other Lost Boys to be adopted by the Darling family. My last glimpse of him was as he was led out of the night nursery door towards the drawing room which was to be his new abode.
What followed his exit was what gave me the idea for this entry. Our Narrator, "James M. Barrie" himself, went on to explain that while Peter remained in Neverland as a boy forever, all the other boys eventually quit believing and grew up to be men with families of their own. Wendy would become too old to make the flights to Neverland and her daughter, Jane would serve as Peter's mother. And then Jane's daughter Margaret would succeed her. And the tradition would continue.
And then the question came to my mind - "I wonder what became of my beloved Dirty Dan?"
We often hear what happens to the famous, the well known, the high profile people in our society. We learn of their triumphs and tragedies alike. But we often lose track of the regular folks - those whose names aren't listed in the script, unless there is some special connection to them.
Since there is a special connection between me and Dirty Dan, I wanted to know what became of him. There is the sad thought that he could have lived in Neverland and then become so jaded or cynical as to forget the glories of a part of his life lived in such a magical place and lived in such a way as to be the envy of real boys everywhere. There was also my curiosity about what career he chose, who he married, what his children were like and if they would ever know what an amazing childhood their father had.
And then it hit me. "That's all up to Dan".
Dan, like the rest of us, had the opportunity to lay out his legacy. He would live the story that would be told about him. His legacy would depend on the life he lived.
While Dirty Dan was a fictional boy who was adopted by a fictional man, the actor playing the role is a very real boy with an equally real dad. I see the moral of Dan's story, at least for me, is that I have the opportunity to give the real boy the tools to build the legacy that he will leave to real children and grandchildren - and to give him the tales of my own legacy to pass along. If I give him nothing to share, my own role will be one that is not even mentioned in the "script" of his life and he will probably cease to believe. And I will fade into obscurity.
That's some pretty heavy stuff to get from a simple kids' show in a small town theatre in Georgia. Just the ramblings of a proud dad that wants to make his son proud as well.
Friday, August 13, 2010
A Writer?
So I'm a writer. Yeah.
That is a funny term to call myself since I really don't write anything much at all. In fact I hate writing. I have my reasons for hating writing and I guess if it were not for the computer and word processing programs, the world would be a little less cluttered without my rambling on about this and that. But since we have such modern contrivances, I'll ramble on about why I hate writing.
First of all, I present "cursive". I think that is an excellent term for that art. Trying to write in cursive puts me in a cursive mood - meaning "it makes me want to curse". Poor Janet Morris took the entire 1983-84 school year trying to teach me to make the swirly letters and I have spent every year since trying to forget. Honestly, since I go by my middle name, I can't even write my first name in cursive. I can only muster the first initial for my signature.
Then you have to consider that I get writer's cramp easily. I can sit and try to shake it out but it only makes me want to continue to stall. And what would you do to increase your writing endurance? Yeah, more writing. Not going to happen.
Another issue comes from lack of technical assistance. I had one of the greatest teachers of vocabulary ever - Sandra Jackson and her little green devil books with "Word Wealth" written across the cover in black ink. As much as they terrorized me, I'd love to have my own copy. My wife is very talented in teaching vocabulary and grammar. I have an excellent vocabulary but let's just say that the correct order of words does not always roll off the end of my pen. And I have yet to find writing paper that forms the little red squiggly line under a misspelling or a green squiggly line under my inadvertent attempts to brutalize Her Royal Majesty's official language. Yeah, I need a little help at times.
I remember seeing the "Freedom Shrine" at my local YMCA when I was a kid. They had a copy of "Jefferson's Rough Draft" of the Declaration of Independence. Seeing all those strikes, blots, mistakes, and all gave me some hope that one day I'd be able to complete a book report or maybe even a research paper without using an erasable pen. And maybe one day I will. But until then, I'll keep my keyboard and my slow typing.
And I'll hope that my wife counts this statement and the opening one as being enough to keep this entry from being a five-paragraph essay.
That is a funny term to call myself since I really don't write anything much at all. In fact I hate writing. I have my reasons for hating writing and I guess if it were not for the computer and word processing programs, the world would be a little less cluttered without my rambling on about this and that. But since we have such modern contrivances, I'll ramble on about why I hate writing.
First of all, I present "cursive". I think that is an excellent term for that art. Trying to write in cursive puts me in a cursive mood - meaning "it makes me want to curse". Poor Janet Morris took the entire 1983-84 school year trying to teach me to make the swirly letters and I have spent every year since trying to forget. Honestly, since I go by my middle name, I can't even write my first name in cursive. I can only muster the first initial for my signature.
Then you have to consider that I get writer's cramp easily. I can sit and try to shake it out but it only makes me want to continue to stall. And what would you do to increase your writing endurance? Yeah, more writing. Not going to happen.
Another issue comes from lack of technical assistance. I had one of the greatest teachers of vocabulary ever - Sandra Jackson and her little green devil books with "Word Wealth" written across the cover in black ink. As much as they terrorized me, I'd love to have my own copy. My wife is very talented in teaching vocabulary and grammar. I have an excellent vocabulary but let's just say that the correct order of words does not always roll off the end of my pen. And I have yet to find writing paper that forms the little red squiggly line under a misspelling or a green squiggly line under my inadvertent attempts to brutalize Her Royal Majesty's official language. Yeah, I need a little help at times.
I remember seeing the "Freedom Shrine" at my local YMCA when I was a kid. They had a copy of "Jefferson's Rough Draft" of the Declaration of Independence. Seeing all those strikes, blots, mistakes, and all gave me some hope that one day I'd be able to complete a book report or maybe even a research paper without using an erasable pen. And maybe one day I will. But until then, I'll keep my keyboard and my slow typing.
And I'll hope that my wife counts this statement and the opening one as being enough to keep this entry from being a five-paragraph essay.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
An Insight Into My Journey
Well, it has been a while since I have written anything here. The truth is that I have had several topics fluctuating through my attention span. Many things have happened and the ideas kept passing each other. Time to focus.
So, I turn on some Arcangelo Corelli and start typing.
This entry is a little more personal than most. It was bound to happen. I realize that there was a major event in my life and that it left a lot of people confused. I'd like to take the time to explain my exit from the Southern Baptist Convention and one of its member churches.
This is not just some tirade where I shout about transgressions and dole out accusations. This is where I share my heart about me - because the more I look at things from a distance, the more I realize that I am the one that has changed. It all began with a mysterious book I found over ten years ago and was pushed over the edge by some tumultuous events that will not be played out on AtBiG like they were elsewhere. Those who attended church with me do not need further explanation and those that didn't can read along just as well.
What happened to me is that I had to stop and look at the world around me and discern what was really going on. I had to address truth - within myself and in my surroundings. I changed many of my stances on issues. Maybe that makes me crazy. Maybe it makes me a heretic. But for right now, it makes me sane.
Having seen the Book of Eli recently I can say that there is a line from the movie that hit me like a ton of bricks. Eli is trying to defend the last known copy of the King James Bible (remember, good enough for Jesus and His disciples, good enough for me) from certain destruction. In the process he picks up a companion and explains to her "In all these years I've been carrying it and reading it every day, I got so caught up in keeping it safe that I forgot to live by what I learned from it." That was like a retroactive epiphany that threw me back to the early phases of my transition where I realized that the entirety of the Gospel is "Love God with all you have and love your neighbor as yourself"
I realized that many of my beliefs contradicted that. My neighbors might be homosexual. They may have had a pregnancy terminated. They may be atheists. They may be Muslims. They may be Democrats. They may be geologists that know how old rocks are.
What I was doing was not loving these neighbors. I was defending a book - not following it.
I realized that a church is not a building, not a location and the main goal of a church is not to struggle to keep a roof over the heads of the real church - the people that gather there. Church can happen in a bar (I've seen this myself). It can happen in a mall, around a campfire in the woods, in an Internet forum, even in catacombs - where it spent its infancy. The real church is the community of people and how they follow the book , not how they defend it. (Lower case "c" was intentional in this paragraph. I mean local church).
I learned that church can be manly and that men don't have to settle for singing 15 sappy love songs to a man in the name of worship. In fact, I learned you can have church with no music at all - witnessed it with my own eyes.
I can't see for the life of me how two men in California getting married in the eyes of a secular government can have any bearing on the sanctity of the vows my wife and I took before God. What has a bearing on the sanctity of our vows is how we treat each other and how we honor God by keeping those vows.
I met some Catholics that really love Jesus.
I don't mind if the Earth is billions or even trillions of years old. I can handle that.
I attended a church made up almost exclusively by people whose appearance, wardrobe, tattoos and body piercings made them pariahs in most churches in this area - and I saw how they lived the book instead of defending it.
And seriously, Jesus transformed Galilean water into fine wine so that drunk people could get drunker while celebrating life and the oldest of God's sacraments. I know it is hard to stomach for many but it is in our book. We have to deal with that.
All of this to say that I personally reached a point where something had to change. I could not sit quietly in the same chair I had occupied for so long. I cannot blame a bunch of people in this right now. I am owning the experience and accepting the fact that it is where the journey has taken me.
And I close with the hopes that this may have cleared some of the confusion for those that know me and that those who don't will now know me better.
So, I turn on some Arcangelo Corelli and start typing.
This entry is a little more personal than most. It was bound to happen. I realize that there was a major event in my life and that it left a lot of people confused. I'd like to take the time to explain my exit from the Southern Baptist Convention and one of its member churches.
This is not just some tirade where I shout about transgressions and dole out accusations. This is where I share my heart about me - because the more I look at things from a distance, the more I realize that I am the one that has changed. It all began with a mysterious book I found over ten years ago and was pushed over the edge by some tumultuous events that will not be played out on AtBiG like they were elsewhere. Those who attended church with me do not need further explanation and those that didn't can read along just as well.
What happened to me is that I had to stop and look at the world around me and discern what was really going on. I had to address truth - within myself and in my surroundings. I changed many of my stances on issues. Maybe that makes me crazy. Maybe it makes me a heretic. But for right now, it makes me sane.
Having seen the Book of Eli recently I can say that there is a line from the movie that hit me like a ton of bricks. Eli is trying to defend the last known copy of the King James Bible (remember, good enough for Jesus and His disciples, good enough for me) from certain destruction. In the process he picks up a companion and explains to her "In all these years I've been carrying it and reading it every day, I got so caught up in keeping it safe that I forgot to live by what I learned from it." That was like a retroactive epiphany that threw me back to the early phases of my transition where I realized that the entirety of the Gospel is "Love God with all you have and love your neighbor as yourself"
I realized that many of my beliefs contradicted that. My neighbors might be homosexual. They may have had a pregnancy terminated. They may be atheists. They may be Muslims. They may be Democrats. They may be geologists that know how old rocks are.
What I was doing was not loving these neighbors. I was defending a book - not following it.
I realized that a church is not a building, not a location and the main goal of a church is not to struggle to keep a roof over the heads of the real church - the people that gather there. Church can happen in a bar (I've seen this myself). It can happen in a mall, around a campfire in the woods, in an Internet forum, even in catacombs - where it spent its infancy. The real church is the community of people and how they follow the book , not how they defend it. (Lower case "c" was intentional in this paragraph. I mean local church).
I learned that church can be manly and that men don't have to settle for singing 15 sappy love songs to a man in the name of worship. In fact, I learned you can have church with no music at all - witnessed it with my own eyes.
I can't see for the life of me how two men in California getting married in the eyes of a secular government can have any bearing on the sanctity of the vows my wife and I took before God. What has a bearing on the sanctity of our vows is how we treat each other and how we honor God by keeping those vows.
I met some Catholics that really love Jesus.
I don't mind if the Earth is billions or even trillions of years old. I can handle that.
I attended a church made up almost exclusively by people whose appearance, wardrobe, tattoos and body piercings made them pariahs in most churches in this area - and I saw how they lived the book instead of defending it.
And seriously, Jesus transformed Galilean water into fine wine so that drunk people could get drunker while celebrating life and the oldest of God's sacraments. I know it is hard to stomach for many but it is in our book. We have to deal with that.
All of this to say that I personally reached a point where something had to change. I could not sit quietly in the same chair I had occupied for so long. I cannot blame a bunch of people in this right now. I am owning the experience and accepting the fact that it is where the journey has taken me.
And I close with the hopes that this may have cleared some of the confusion for those that know me and that those who don't will now know me better.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Just some notes...
A lot of things have passed through the old head lately. Time to listen to the soundtrack to "The Pacific" and process some of it.
I guess every man reaches a point in life where he has to sit down and really contemplate what is important to him and what he really wants out of life. Maybe that is what's happening. In that process, a lot of memories are coming to mind. Some of it is just old fashioned nostalgia and some of it is honest reflection.
I'll start with a candid confession from this old Georgia boy. I'm actually a dual citizen - a naturalized Georgian. I was born into the warm springtime of the Sunshine State in the very shadow of figures known to turn the stomachs of Georgians everywhere. And yes, I'm still a Southerner - I hail from the part of the state that is pronounced "Flar-da", far from the invasive snowbird population.
I used to think of it as "you can't help where mama was sitting when you were born" but the progression of time and the fond memories made with family that still inhabits the area as well as many vacations "back home" have changed my attitude. While I am now firmly planted in the land of the Cherokees, that old Seminole wind still blows through my hair from time to time.
I don't usually eat my grits for breakfast - civilized people know they are meant to be eaten with fried fish - hopefully in the company of 50 or so of your closest relatives. I learned to catch said fish on a majestic plot of water by the name of Orange Lake - planted there by the hand of God and not by some TVA dam. I know a cow bird when I see one. I was an adult before I realized that they actually raise Thoroughbreds in Kentucky. I know that watermelon rinds should be disposed of by tossing them across the fence into the cow pasture. Dirt roads are more durable when made with limestone. Throw in the ubiquitous Spanish moss and white sand and I was blessed to enjoy a Florida that most Disney visitors will never see.
Meanwhile, back upon the red clay...
I can remember the neighborhood boys building huts in the woods and searching for various monsters, warding off some persistent Russians and even a stray Nazi or two. I remember 60,000 screaming fans showing up at one of our backyards to watch us play f0r football championships. There were huge family gatherings for the holidays that weren't spent in Florida - the Christmases when we actually had to wear shirts and long pants.
Rich memories. Happy times. Simple joys.
But people grow and family dynamics change. A farm is sold. An old home is torn down. A beloved school is replaced by a department store. Neighbors move away. Places transform and even seem to disappear at times. Familiar settings can become as foreign as Michigan.....or even France.
But the old things give way to new. This is not always a bad thing. It means that there are new places, new people, new traditions, new memories. My sons are in the process of constructing their own nostalgia and learning the stories they will tell their kids. It is my job to make sure they have good bricks with which to build.
This brings my thoughts back around to the idea of what I want out of life - the adventures, experiences, people and places that will give my sons those bricks that will form the foundation of the nostalgia for my grandchildren. And while neither my children nor grandchildren are likely to ever play on a two-track white sand driveway beneath the live oaks, they will carry memories along that will mean just as much to them.
That is what I want. That is a dream that gives me hope.
I guess every man reaches a point in life where he has to sit down and really contemplate what is important to him and what he really wants out of life. Maybe that is what's happening. In that process, a lot of memories are coming to mind. Some of it is just old fashioned nostalgia and some of it is honest reflection.
I'll start with a candid confession from this old Georgia boy. I'm actually a dual citizen - a naturalized Georgian. I was born into the warm springtime of the Sunshine State in the very shadow of figures known to turn the stomachs of Georgians everywhere. And yes, I'm still a Southerner - I hail from the part of the state that is pronounced "Flar-da", far from the invasive snowbird population.
I used to think of it as "you can't help where mama was sitting when you were born" but the progression of time and the fond memories made with family that still inhabits the area as well as many vacations "back home" have changed my attitude. While I am now firmly planted in the land of the Cherokees, that old Seminole wind still blows through my hair from time to time.
I don't usually eat my grits for breakfast - civilized people know they are meant to be eaten with fried fish - hopefully in the company of 50 or so of your closest relatives. I learned to catch said fish on a majestic plot of water by the name of Orange Lake - planted there by the hand of God and not by some TVA dam. I know a cow bird when I see one. I was an adult before I realized that they actually raise Thoroughbreds in Kentucky. I know that watermelon rinds should be disposed of by tossing them across the fence into the cow pasture. Dirt roads are more durable when made with limestone. Throw in the ubiquitous Spanish moss and white sand and I was blessed to enjoy a Florida that most Disney visitors will never see.
Meanwhile, back upon the red clay...
I can remember the neighborhood boys building huts in the woods and searching for various monsters, warding off some persistent Russians and even a stray Nazi or two. I remember 60,000 screaming fans showing up at one of our backyards to watch us play f0r football championships. There were huge family gatherings for the holidays that weren't spent in Florida - the Christmases when we actually had to wear shirts and long pants.
Rich memories. Happy times. Simple joys.
But people grow and family dynamics change. A farm is sold. An old home is torn down. A beloved school is replaced by a department store. Neighbors move away. Places transform and even seem to disappear at times. Familiar settings can become as foreign as Michigan.....or even France.
But the old things give way to new. This is not always a bad thing. It means that there are new places, new people, new traditions, new memories. My sons are in the process of constructing their own nostalgia and learning the stories they will tell their kids. It is my job to make sure they have good bricks with which to build.
This brings my thoughts back around to the idea of what I want out of life - the adventures, experiences, people and places that will give my sons those bricks that will form the foundation of the nostalgia for my grandchildren. And while neither my children nor grandchildren are likely to ever play on a two-track white sand driveway beneath the live oaks, they will carry memories along that will mean just as much to them.
That is what I want. That is a dream that gives me hope.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Here's your sign.
Well. here we go. Seems like there are rocks being thrown back and forth about the "Pledge of Allegiance" again.
Apparently, someone decided that the "Billy Graham Parkway" in Charlotte was a good place to put up a billboard. I'm unfamiliar with that particular road but I am assuming that it is a major thoroughfare with heavy traffic. Sounds like a good place for an advertising billboard.
And so a private organization practiced one of the grand acts of capitalism and entered into an advertising campaign agreement with the owner of the sign. Money was paid for the right to post the sign and up it went.
Now, before you get upset that the atheist group that sponsored the sign was trying to take a swipe a t minister Graham, these signs went up in several locations in North Carolina. It isn't just this road.
The Pledge has become a major battleground in this culture war that, to quote Marco Ramius, has "no battles, no monuments... only casualties". But the war continues just the same. Now, I have my own take on "Pledge controversy" and the sign shows the problem I have with the Pledge. This is country is neither "One Nation" nor "indivisible". It is 50 nations that have the right, even the responsibility to dissolve their union if it becomes detrimental to the well-being of their people. But no one ever seems to complain about that. They are too busy trying to either drag God into it or extricate Him from it. And it is a sad state on both fronts.
However, in this particular instance, the atheists have done nothing wrong. They broke no laws, trespassed on no other person's property and damaged nothing. But some vandals trespassed on private property and spray painted the name of their deity on a legally placed message that had been properly secured and paid for. The vandals have interfered with capitalist enterprise - they have in effect, broken a few of the 10 Commandments in an attempt to defend the honor of the all-seeing, all-powerful, all knowing God. Covetousness, thievery, and maybe even idolatry.
Idolatry? Yes. You see, in the book of Colossians, Paul tells us that Jesus is the "image of the invisible God". He is the God we see. By stepping in and trying to put a substitute for God on the atheists' sign, they may have placed a god (one of their own creation) above the very Christ they claim to worship and who should be evident through the way they live their lives - like love before vandalism. This is a terrible crime that all Christians should look upon as a moment of shame.
We took our sons to see the new "Karate Kid" movie this week and I heard something in it that I think speaks volumes to this crime. Mr Han is explaining to Dre why the lessons he has been learning are important to Kung Fu. He tells him "Kung Fu lives in everything we do. It lives in how we put on a jacket. It lives in how we treat people. Everything is Kung Fu". The same is supposed to be true of faith in Christ - to paraphrase: Jesus lives in everything we do. He lives in how we react to atheists, in how we love our neighbors, everything is Jesus.
Spray painting "God" on someone's property is not Jesus.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Ugly
Well, I have had a good week. Nothing ugly about it. No complaints. But there have been two things that have happened that are forcing this entry. 1) McGuire's just informed me that the stout is only $1 tonight (and I'm nowhere near Pensacola) leaving me rather grumpy and 2) I just finished another book, and as Stephen King taught me "read a lot, write a lot". So, I'm turning up Queen and writing.
Keeping my tradition of not wasting my time on books that have not offended anyone, I chose to read a book that was stamped with that statement "If this were not a free country, this book would be banned". Yeah, had to read it when I saw that.
So I read "The Ugly American" by William Lederer ad Eugene Burdick. It was a challenge to dive into a work that had a reputation that promised to challenge me. But I have come to love such stretching and just dove in. As usual, there was a lot to reap.
I've come to learn in the last several years that the arts, especially books, offer a multi-tier message that cover intended and unintended topics. The authors intended to address the problems within the united States Foreign Service during the Eisenhower Administration and Americans abroad in general and I was forced to deal with that. But the topic also covered the state of the modern Church in America.
Regardless of which way you look at it, the whole idea boils down to the choice of mutually beneficial actions or self-serving actions, symbiosis or parasitism, altruism or arrogance. It comes down to on question, in policy and in practice, "do we really care about people or are we just here to use them?"
I understand the frustrations of Gilbert MacWhite, "The Ragtime Kid" and "Tex" Wolcheck as they attempted to try to make a difference in southeast Asia by actually understanding the people, the culture, the way of life of the native people. These men, and others, understood that capitalism was the best opportunity for the people of Asia but that it was not going to look like American capitalism. They understood that the people didn't need the flash, glitz and the price tags that the u.S. government put on its foreign policy. They needed a better chance to earn a living and they weren't looking for handouts. They were looking for opportunity to do it themselves. I understand these frustrations because I have confronted evangelical leaders and begged them to care about people and have been labeled as a heretic for my efforts.
MacWhite sent off one final letter to Washington to seek the resources, the manpower, the permission to do the things that needed to be done to really empower the fictional nation of Sarkhan - only to be disappointed by politicians that were unaware that the box had an outside and who could never hope to think there and who were too self-serving to care about the people of rural Sarkhan.
"The Ragtime Kid" had his ultimate opportunity squashed by a staff member that couldn't see past his own Americanism to understand the culture of Sarkhan and the fact that one man was about to eliminate the influence of Red China over an entire nation.
Wolcheck found himself drunk and and unimpressed at the rebuke of a powerful senator, threatening him with bodily harm if he did not "have a drink with us and keep your mouth shut" or leave.
The consensus among the powers that be were that the new, innovative and, more importantly, benevolent ideas wouldn't work, weren't feasible and "wouldn't do enough". But the problem is that when it comes to helping people, bigger is not always better, handouts are not always better and people aren't looking to be just like us.
So, if an American can help a Cambodian farmer get his chickens to lay more eggs or help his fellow man find answers to the spiritual questions he is seeking, it doesn't matter if the farmer remains Cambodian or the seeker is never "presentable" in most churches. The question is "was a need met?" This might require someone learning to speak Khmer or to learn to not speak "Churchese" but if the best outcome is truly desired, the effort will not be difficult.
But if we are stuck in a box, I think I'll go fishing...or better yet, just play with my kids.
This post might be a little ambiguous for those who have never read the book....maybe ambiguous enough to fix that problem. Give it a try.
Keeping my tradition of not wasting my time on books that have not offended anyone, I chose to read a book that was stamped with that statement "If this were not a free country, this book would be banned". Yeah, had to read it when I saw that.
So I read "The Ugly American" by William Lederer ad Eugene Burdick. It was a challenge to dive into a work that had a reputation that promised to challenge me. But I have come to love such stretching and just dove in. As usual, there was a lot to reap.
I've come to learn in the last several years that the arts, especially books, offer a multi-tier message that cover intended and unintended topics. The authors intended to address the problems within the united States Foreign Service during the Eisenhower Administration and Americans abroad in general and I was forced to deal with that. But the topic also covered the state of the modern Church in America.
Regardless of which way you look at it, the whole idea boils down to the choice of mutually beneficial actions or self-serving actions, symbiosis or parasitism, altruism or arrogance. It comes down to on question, in policy and in practice, "do we really care about people or are we just here to use them?"
I understand the frustrations of Gilbert MacWhite, "The Ragtime Kid" and "Tex" Wolcheck as they attempted to try to make a difference in southeast Asia by actually understanding the people, the culture, the way of life of the native people. These men, and others, understood that capitalism was the best opportunity for the people of Asia but that it was not going to look like American capitalism. They understood that the people didn't need the flash, glitz and the price tags that the u.S. government put on its foreign policy. They needed a better chance to earn a living and they weren't looking for handouts. They were looking for opportunity to do it themselves. I understand these frustrations because I have confronted evangelical leaders and begged them to care about people and have been labeled as a heretic for my efforts.
MacWhite sent off one final letter to Washington to seek the resources, the manpower, the permission to do the things that needed to be done to really empower the fictional nation of Sarkhan - only to be disappointed by politicians that were unaware that the box had an outside and who could never hope to think there and who were too self-serving to care about the people of rural Sarkhan.
"The Ragtime Kid" had his ultimate opportunity squashed by a staff member that couldn't see past his own Americanism to understand the culture of Sarkhan and the fact that one man was about to eliminate the influence of Red China over an entire nation.
Wolcheck found himself drunk and and unimpressed at the rebuke of a powerful senator, threatening him with bodily harm if he did not "have a drink with us and keep your mouth shut" or leave.
The consensus among the powers that be were that the new, innovative and, more importantly, benevolent ideas wouldn't work, weren't feasible and "wouldn't do enough". But the problem is that when it comes to helping people, bigger is not always better, handouts are not always better and people aren't looking to be just like us.
So, if an American can help a Cambodian farmer get his chickens to lay more eggs or help his fellow man find answers to the spiritual questions he is seeking, it doesn't matter if the farmer remains Cambodian or the seeker is never "presentable" in most churches. The question is "was a need met?" This might require someone learning to speak Khmer or to learn to not speak "Churchese" but if the best outcome is truly desired, the effort will not be difficult.
But if we are stuck in a box, I think I'll go fishing...or better yet, just play with my kids.
This post might be a little ambiguous for those who have never read the book....maybe ambiguous enough to fix that problem. Give it a try.
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Summertime Surprise
I was glad to wake up this morning and see some college football news. Granted, it was a bunch of silliness and grandstanding by second tier programs but a football fanatic is well into the DTs this time of year and you take any port in a storm.
Colorado headed to the Pac-10? How pleasant. They may take the Texas delegation with them? Isn't that special? Looks like 16 programs? Maybe between all of them, they'll field at least one legitimate team. I'm really hoping they at least change their name to the Pac-16 instead of leaving us wondering which ones don't count even in their eyes like their Rose Bowl cohorts in the Midwest.
Speaking of the conference that doesn't count so well....
So the Cornhuskers are bound for the Big 10...11...10...whatever. Bo Pelini coached in the SEC. Yeah, he's probably going to own that conference. What with powerhouses like Northwestern and Illinois running around up there? What a joke.
So now there is talk of championship games for these realigned conferences. Welcome to the 1990's, y'all. People are even wringing their hands asking if the Pac-however-many should have an additional BCS automatic bid. They already had one which was at least three too many. I mean really, you played nobody all year, why break that trend in January?
Then there is the news that The Diploma Mill of Southern California has been slapped with a 2-year post season ban and 4 years of probation for something that happened when their current players were in middle school. I don't care for the over-rated Trojan program and usually don't feel sorry for them but punishing these kids for the transgressions of a multi-millionaire NFL player is really kind of sad. But Lane Kiffin has to take it too, so maybe it's a wash. Lane, can we borrow your dad in Tampa for a few years while you aren't allowed to play big boy ball?
Anyway, all this shuffling around and the SEC will still be by far the superior conference in college football. A mid-tier SEC team will still be a championship favorite in any other conference in the nation. The ACC will still be a distant second that is still miles ahead of number three.
And regardless of all this rambling above and who pulls what moves it is apparent that troy is still way too chicken to show their faces in Jacksonville. The Pit may look a little different, but it is still the place Bama trojans go to get whupped.
Colorado headed to the Pac-10? How pleasant. They may take the Texas delegation with them? Isn't that special? Looks like 16 programs? Maybe between all of them, they'll field at least one legitimate team. I'm really hoping they at least change their name to the Pac-16 instead of leaving us wondering which ones don't count even in their eyes like their Rose Bowl cohorts in the Midwest.
Speaking of the conference that doesn't count so well....
So the Cornhuskers are bound for the Big 10...11...10...whatever. Bo Pelini coached in the SEC. Yeah, he's probably going to own that conference. What with powerhouses like Northwestern and Illinois running around up there? What a joke.
So now there is talk of championship games for these realigned conferences. Welcome to the 1990's, y'all. People are even wringing their hands asking if the Pac-however-many should have an additional BCS automatic bid. They already had one which was at least three too many. I mean really, you played nobody all year, why break that trend in January?
Then there is the news that The Diploma Mill of Southern California has been slapped with a 2-year post season ban and 4 years of probation for something that happened when their current players were in middle school. I don't care for the over-rated Trojan program and usually don't feel sorry for them but punishing these kids for the transgressions of a multi-millionaire NFL player is really kind of sad. But Lane Kiffin has to take it too, so maybe it's a wash. Lane, can we borrow your dad in Tampa for a few years while you aren't allowed to play big boy ball?
Anyway, all this shuffling around and the SEC will still be by far the superior conference in college football. A mid-tier SEC team will still be a championship favorite in any other conference in the nation. The ACC will still be a distant second that is still miles ahead of number three.
And regardless of all this rambling above and who pulls what moves it is apparent that troy is still way too chicken to show their faces in Jacksonville. The Pit may look a little different, but it is still the place Bama trojans go to get whupped.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Forever After
I don't typically go to the movies. It isn't some political boycott or anything. I just know that if I wait a few months, I'll be able to see anything for a dollar from a Redbox - a price that is more suitable for the produce of most film makers these days. I still pass on the Will Farrell movies. Why waste a dollar?
That being said, my wealth of otherwise worthless knowledge was able to score me two free passes. I knew that the red poppy is the Memorial Day flower and the local radio station thought that the contents of my neurons made me worthy of a night at the moving picture show. They paid for my wife as well. She had a few passes for the kids. After we paid the 3-D fee for all five of us, we got in the doors for $12.50 - a bit steep for most movies, but I wouldn't be writing unless I was pleased or VERY disappointed.
Shrek did not disappoint. And the sounds of Lacuna Coil educating Depeche Mode on the art of performing "Enjoy the Silence" is helping my fingers tap away tonight.
There is a lesson in this...for me and maybe for you. If you hate spoilers, come back to this article after you see the movie. I'll try to keep them to a minimum.
Right out of the gate, I perked up to see Shrek's disillusion with the mundane life he found himself in and the pull to live up to the expectations of all these other people. There are times in all of our lives where we just wish there was more excitement or more "me time" or whatever. You know about that grass on the other side. It was very easy to see that "yeah, I know what he is saying". And like so many of us often do, Shrek did something stupid. "Hey, y'all watch this..."
My ability to relate to the characters continued on through a scene where a short man with incredible head covers is in a grand ballroom surrounded by intriguingly dressed women. I can't say that I have found myself in that situation but it was fun for a short man to dream...
I was feeling rather cozy with myself relating to the depressed dad and the ladies' leprechaun when Josh Klausner and Darren Lemke made me feel like I could crawl up under a door. I felt that way because our big green hero did. And I'm short but not that short.
As the story progressed, Shrek realized that while he was a hero that saved a beautiful princess as well as a kingdom of fans, he had to learn the lesson that living out in that swamp all alone was...well...lonely. The boy came to grips with the fact that he was rescued as much as he was a rescuer.
Eureka!
How could a short man be the least bit distracted by that ballroom, his selfish stupidity or even the throne itself when his "ezer kenegdo" (life-saver) is still standing beside him ready to take on all comers in a battle to the death? Yeah, he can't.
So I'd like to raise a glass of ice-cold sweetened Luzianne to my own Princess, children's movies that teach lessons - even to adults, and the timely revelations that can only come from above, regardless of the delivery method.
Seems like she said something about some more free passes and a date night....
That being said, my wealth of otherwise worthless knowledge was able to score me two free passes. I knew that the red poppy is the Memorial Day flower and the local radio station thought that the contents of my neurons made me worthy of a night at the moving picture show. They paid for my wife as well. She had a few passes for the kids. After we paid the 3-D fee for all five of us, we got in the doors for $12.50 - a bit steep for most movies, but I wouldn't be writing unless I was pleased or VERY disappointed.
Shrek did not disappoint. And the sounds of Lacuna Coil educating Depeche Mode on the art of performing "Enjoy the Silence" is helping my fingers tap away tonight.
There is a lesson in this...for me and maybe for you. If you hate spoilers, come back to this article after you see the movie. I'll try to keep them to a minimum.
Right out of the gate, I perked up to see Shrek's disillusion with the mundane life he found himself in and the pull to live up to the expectations of all these other people. There are times in all of our lives where we just wish there was more excitement or more "me time" or whatever. You know about that grass on the other side. It was very easy to see that "yeah, I know what he is saying". And like so many of us often do, Shrek did something stupid. "Hey, y'all watch this..."
My ability to relate to the characters continued on through a scene where a short man with incredible head covers is in a grand ballroom surrounded by intriguingly dressed women. I can't say that I have found myself in that situation but it was fun for a short man to dream...
I was feeling rather cozy with myself relating to the depressed dad and the ladies' leprechaun when Josh Klausner and Darren Lemke made me feel like I could crawl up under a door. I felt that way because our big green hero did. And I'm short but not that short.
As the story progressed, Shrek realized that while he was a hero that saved a beautiful princess as well as a kingdom of fans, he had to learn the lesson that living out in that swamp all alone was...well...lonely. The boy came to grips with the fact that he was rescued as much as he was a rescuer.
Eureka!
How could a short man be the least bit distracted by that ballroom, his selfish stupidity or even the throne itself when his "ezer kenegdo" (life-saver) is still standing beside him ready to take on all comers in a battle to the death? Yeah, he can't.
So I'd like to raise a glass of ice-cold sweetened Luzianne to my own Princess, children's movies that teach lessons - even to adults, and the timely revelations that can only come from above, regardless of the delivery method.
Seems like she said something about some more free passes and a date night....
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Gospel according to T.J.
People who know me well know that I have a very special place in my heart for Thomas Jefferson. Having been Virginia born and bred, he was one of the first Southerners - a sort of "charter member". I know all of the arguments about Jefferson and his "contradictions" - some of them confuse me and I've been reading about this guy and reading his writings all my life. There are a lot of issues that can boggle your mind.
I have this hair-brained idea about one of them. This idea is a recent development for me but it has a lot to do with where I am at this time in my own life - it's a "walk a mile in a guy's moccasins" sort of thing.
Jefferson is widely viewed as a deist by many scholars. Then there are those that point to his mentions of the Creator in the Declaration of Independence as well as other writings. He wrote the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom and other documents that led people to believe that he had an interest in spirituality, theology and religion.
One quote attributed to him seems to cause some disturbance among church folks and, if he did say this, leads me to my theory.
And yes, he also goes on to share some points of contention that would get him branded as a heretic and shunned by most evangelical churches of today. He expressed fears to both Rush and William Short of what might happen if Americans at large were to discover his beliefs and assertions. Even in his day there was grave danger in swimming against the current - the President of the united States was not exempt from this scrutiny. But despite the other "heresies", the above statement, specifically the last statement of it, haunts me....because I say that very thing myself nearly every day of my life to people who are thinking the very same thing.
Jefferson was searching. He was on a quest for God. He was looking for the existence that he was encouraging us to question. He wasn't saying this in a spirit of atheistic evangelism but rather calling us to engage in that new activity of The Enlightenment - thinking for ourselves. Perhaps Jefferson was paraphrasing Philippians 2:12-13 - exhorting us to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, knowing that God seeks our own devotion, our own faith, our own commitment, not that of our pastor or forefathers. He figured God must delight in the person that looks honestly and even skeptically for God and yet, still finds Him. Many Christians, including C.S. Lewis, started off as atheists that set out to disprove the existence of God but found Him to be the only viable option.
Maybe T.J. was on to something
...and maybe I'm a quack...you'll have to seek that out for yourself...
I have this hair-brained idea about one of them. This idea is a recent development for me but it has a lot to do with where I am at this time in my own life - it's a "walk a mile in a guy's moccasins" sort of thing.
Jefferson is widely viewed as a deist by many scholars. Then there are those that point to his mentions of the Creator in the Declaration of Independence as well as other writings. He wrote the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom and other documents that led people to believe that he had an interest in spirituality, theology and religion.
One quote attributed to him seems to cause some disturbance among church folks and, if he did say this, leads me to my theory.
"Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, than that of blind-folded fear."
Questioning the existence of God. Who does he think he is? Must be a deist
Or perhaps, along with being one of the first southerners, Jefferson was one of the first post-Evangelical Christians. Yeah, that sounds crazy and far-fetched. After all, it would be another two centuries before Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, Donald Miller, et al showed up on the scene. But give this idea a chance. Weigh it all out.
Jefferson was quite a free thinker whose life was thrown into revolutionary times. He personally set one of the many coffin nails to the time-honored tradition of "Divine right of Kings". He was an inventor of modern gadgets that would change the way many things were done world wide. He was a scientist that experimented with the world around him. He founded a fine institute of higher learning, even to the extent of designing the buildings.
And then there is that one little thing that has kept my theory hidden in a shroud all these years - Jefferson "wrote his own Bible". Turns out, that is a bit of a misstatement - not a Richard Blumenthal misstatement, but a real, honest confusion about the facts. What Jefferson actually did was take out his handy-dandy Bapt...er....King James Version and a sharp pair of scissors. Then he proceeded to edit out everything he saw as supernatural or superfluous. What was the extra stuff he removed? Anything that did not pass between the lips of Jesus Christ - specifically sparing His teachings. He went on to present his edited version to Dr. Benjamin Rush via a letter in which he said.
Jefferson was quite a free thinker whose life was thrown into revolutionary times. He personally set one of the many coffin nails to the time-honored tradition of "Divine right of Kings". He was an inventor of modern gadgets that would change the way many things were done world wide. He was a scientist that experimented with the world around him. He founded a fine institute of higher learning, even to the extent of designing the buildings.
And then there is that one little thing that has kept my theory hidden in a shroud all these years - Jefferson "wrote his own Bible". Turns out, that is a bit of a misstatement - not a Richard Blumenthal misstatement, but a real, honest confusion about the facts. What Jefferson actually did was take out his handy-dandy Bapt...er....King James Version and a sharp pair of scissors. Then he proceeded to edit out everything he saw as supernatural or superfluous. What was the extra stuff he removed? Anything that did not pass between the lips of Jesus Christ - specifically sparing His teachings. He went on to present his edited version to Dr. Benjamin Rush via a letter in which he said.
"In some of the delightful conversations with you in the evenings of 1798-99, and which served as an anodyne to the afflictions of the crisis through which our country was then laboring, the Christian religion was sometimes our topic; and I then promised you that one day or other I would give you my views of it. They are the result of a life of inquiry and reflection, and very different from that anti-Christian system imputed to me by those who know nothing of my opinions. To the corruptions of Christianity I am indeed opposed, but not to the genuine precepts of Jesus himself."
And yes, he also goes on to share some points of contention that would get him branded as a heretic and shunned by most evangelical churches of today. He expressed fears to both Rush and William Short of what might happen if Americans at large were to discover his beliefs and assertions. Even in his day there was grave danger in swimming against the current - the President of the united States was not exempt from this scrutiny. But despite the other "heresies", the above statement, specifically the last statement of it, haunts me....because I say that very thing myself nearly every day of my life to people who are thinking the very same thing.
Jefferson was searching. He was on a quest for God. He was looking for the existence that he was encouraging us to question. He wasn't saying this in a spirit of atheistic evangelism but rather calling us to engage in that new activity of The Enlightenment - thinking for ourselves. Perhaps Jefferson was paraphrasing Philippians 2:12-13 - exhorting us to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, knowing that God seeks our own devotion, our own faith, our own commitment, not that of our pastor or forefathers. He figured God must delight in the person that looks honestly and even skeptically for God and yet, still finds Him. Many Christians, including C.S. Lewis, started off as atheists that set out to disprove the existence of God but found Him to be the only viable option.
Maybe T.J. was on to something
...and maybe I'm a quack...you'll have to seek that out for yourself...
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The Lesbian in My Mirror
When you consider that I do not watch Larry King Live and the fact that I do not really keep up with current events as they pertain to the "Christian" music scene (or any music "news" for that matter) it is easy to understand how a scandal that broke back in April would have only today reached my ears. And that is exactly what happened today.
In the past I have broken from the expected position of throwing stones at various people on the basis of moral and behavioral situations. I have spoken out about the desperate need in America today to quit separating out particular sins, transgressions, etc. that we feel are deserving of special attention and punitive actions. Today is no different...well, mostly no different.
For the last few weeks, I have been combing through my own life, my own circumstances, my own problems. Without going into a lot of details, it is safe for me to say that I am not writing this article to announce that I am a lesbian, so if that is what you were looking for from the title, I'm sorry to disappoint you.
What happened today is that I learned of the recent announcement by Jennifer Knapp that she is involved in a long-term relationship with another woman. Knapp is known in music circles as a Christian artist, which is to say that she sings "Jesus music". For some reason, people involved in artistic endeavors that are also followers of Jesus Christ are expected to only use their art for sacred purposes while Christian plumbers, engineers, taxi drivers, bankers and salesmen are allowed to work in the secular realm - another argument for another day.
What I want to do is take my own recent time of reflection, which had nothing to do with sexuality or mainstream ideas of morality in general, as an opportunity to stand in Ms. Knapp's shoes and look at the face in the mirror and see how it feels. I have to tell you, it looks pretty frightening. I can't imagine looking to one side and seeing the smiling faces of Melissa Ethridge, Sara McLaughlin and the Indigo Girls willing to accept her in a world that she has been taught was darkness while on the other hand seeing the likes of Bob Botsford and Fred Phelps waiting with baited breath to tear her to shreds and make a name for themselves as righteous holy warriors. Who are the good guys in this scenario? Where is the safe haven, peace and love coming from?
And we see hear the arguments of what Scripture says about homosexuality but never from Luke 15. You see, the prodigal son knew he was far from home. He knew he was going to starve out there and was just willing to clean toliets for something to eat. His father didn't hurl insults at him and point out all the places where he screwed up and make up a list of punishments for him. He didn't ridicule him in public and cause a scene where everyone could see. He restored him, and reached out to the son he loved.
How is the response of the parable's representation of God the Father any different from the attitude that God holds toward Jennifer Knapp right now? Isn't understanding that the whole point of the parable?
I'm not making excuses for people and I know that there are times when people have to make judgement calls based on thier own morality and conscience. What I want to say is if Ms. Knapp's announcement makes her music less enjoyable to you, don't listen to it. Just please don't treat her like many treated Ellen DeGeneres, deriding her and even making asinine cliches out of her name. Please don't attach the name of Jesus to crude, hateful, self-righteous attempts to police morality.
If you have a problem with Jennifer....drop her a line and let her know. Something about "if your brother offends you" comes to mind...
In the past I have broken from the expected position of throwing stones at various people on the basis of moral and behavioral situations. I have spoken out about the desperate need in America today to quit separating out particular sins, transgressions, etc. that we feel are deserving of special attention and punitive actions. Today is no different...well, mostly no different.
For the last few weeks, I have been combing through my own life, my own circumstances, my own problems. Without going into a lot of details, it is safe for me to say that I am not writing this article to announce that I am a lesbian, so if that is what you were looking for from the title, I'm sorry to disappoint you.
What happened today is that I learned of the recent announcement by Jennifer Knapp that she is involved in a long-term relationship with another woman. Knapp is known in music circles as a Christian artist, which is to say that she sings "Jesus music". For some reason, people involved in artistic endeavors that are also followers of Jesus Christ are expected to only use their art for sacred purposes while Christian plumbers, engineers, taxi drivers, bankers and salesmen are allowed to work in the secular realm - another argument for another day.
What I want to do is take my own recent time of reflection, which had nothing to do with sexuality or mainstream ideas of morality in general, as an opportunity to stand in Ms. Knapp's shoes and look at the face in the mirror and see how it feels. I have to tell you, it looks pretty frightening. I can't imagine looking to one side and seeing the smiling faces of Melissa Ethridge, Sara McLaughlin and the Indigo Girls willing to accept her in a world that she has been taught was darkness while on the other hand seeing the likes of Bob Botsford and Fred Phelps waiting with baited breath to tear her to shreds and make a name for themselves as righteous holy warriors. Who are the good guys in this scenario? Where is the safe haven, peace and love coming from?
And we see hear the arguments of what Scripture says about homosexuality but never from Luke 15. You see, the prodigal son knew he was far from home. He knew he was going to starve out there and was just willing to clean toliets for something to eat. His father didn't hurl insults at him and point out all the places where he screwed up and make up a list of punishments for him. He didn't ridicule him in public and cause a scene where everyone could see. He restored him, and reached out to the son he loved.
How is the response of the parable's representation of God the Father any different from the attitude that God holds toward Jennifer Knapp right now? Isn't understanding that the whole point of the parable?
I'm not making excuses for people and I know that there are times when people have to make judgement calls based on thier own morality and conscience. What I want to say is if Ms. Knapp's announcement makes her music less enjoyable to you, don't listen to it. Just please don't treat her like many treated Ellen DeGeneres, deriding her and even making asinine cliches out of her name. Please don't attach the name of Jesus to crude, hateful, self-righteous attempts to police morality.
If you have a problem with Jennifer....drop her a line and let her know. Something about "if your brother offends you" comes to mind...
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Ax Man Cometh
I've been fighting a few stumps this week. Well, to be honest, I have fought them longer than that. The difference this week is that I finally was fed up and decided to be done with the stumps. They looked innocent enough. Just a few shrubs that should have taken a short amount of time to dig up with a shovel and be done with it.
The stumps had other ideas.
I employed the services of a handy-dandy 4-wheel drive pickup to finally drag one from his perch - kicking and screaming the whole time. It was ugly and half of my wife's flower bed came with it. Fortunately, the bed was not currently in use - after all, there were two bothersome stumps sitting where the new plants are to reside. I laughed in maniacal triumph at my victory over stump #1 and then noticed the mess that was caused. A careful investigation of stump # 2 revealed that a similar plan of attack was probably going to create the need for a licensed plumber to reset my sewer line and probably cause my poor wife to call the men in white coats to come and carry me to a place a little more fitting for a deranged conquistador of stumps.
Not that I could blame her.
So, I changed course and used some of my equipment - namely an ax-ish tool that has seen better days. The blade of the tool has roughly the same sharpness of a baseball bat or maybe a club...you know...like Captain Caveman.
That was never going to work. And so it was going to be up to that ol' Southern standby...the neighbor.
I am blessed with an outstanding neighbor, the kind that people used to have in the days before they wrote blogs or watched American Idol or Twittered or whatever we do these days instead of talk to those people that we see every day but don't really know. A quick visit across the street, some laughs over "are you still fightin' that silly stump?" and some small talk, I reemerged at home with a formidable ax...well, almost. In reality, the fifth or sixth whack and the stump was laughing again. The poor ax was reduced to a whimpering mass with a severed head. The blow snapped the handle clean in two.
My wife suggested that I set aside the brute force in favor of chemical warfare. For once, I agreed with her. So off to the neighborhood hardware store and when I returned I was well armed with a bottle of "stump-be-dead" and a new ax handle - as if I knew something about replacing an ax handle. Some friendly advice from the guy at the hardware store and a man actually reading directions can gel to overcome many obstacles and in a matter of time the ax was enjoying a new golden age - a glory better than before the altercation with the stump. Amazing.
The good news of the day? My neighbor says that he now owns an ax with a new handle for the first time ever. The stump is now gurgling and hacking out in the front yard. My sons got to see dad make something that was wrong be made right again. I got to accomplish something that I had never before attempted and very soon, my wife will have a new and improved flower bed in front of the house. And best of all, that stump will be dead. I may let one of the kids pull it up, just to add insult to injury.
And all of that without the guys in the white coats getting called out to the house...at least I don't think they will...
The stumps had other ideas.
I employed the services of a handy-dandy 4-wheel drive pickup to finally drag one from his perch - kicking and screaming the whole time. It was ugly and half of my wife's flower bed came with it. Fortunately, the bed was not currently in use - after all, there were two bothersome stumps sitting where the new plants are to reside. I laughed in maniacal triumph at my victory over stump #1 and then noticed the mess that was caused. A careful investigation of stump # 2 revealed that a similar plan of attack was probably going to create the need for a licensed plumber to reset my sewer line and probably cause my poor wife to call the men in white coats to come and carry me to a place a little more fitting for a deranged conquistador of stumps.
Not that I could blame her.
So, I changed course and used some of my equipment - namely an ax-ish tool that has seen better days. The blade of the tool has roughly the same sharpness of a baseball bat or maybe a club...you know...like Captain Caveman.
That was never going to work. And so it was going to be up to that ol' Southern standby...the neighbor.
I am blessed with an outstanding neighbor, the kind that people used to have in the days before they wrote blogs or watched American Idol or Twittered or whatever we do these days instead of talk to those people that we see every day but don't really know. A quick visit across the street, some laughs over "are you still fightin' that silly stump?" and some small talk, I reemerged at home with a formidable ax...well, almost. In reality, the fifth or sixth whack and the stump was laughing again. The poor ax was reduced to a whimpering mass with a severed head. The blow snapped the handle clean in two.
My wife suggested that I set aside the brute force in favor of chemical warfare. For once, I agreed with her. So off to the neighborhood hardware store and when I returned I was well armed with a bottle of "stump-be-dead" and a new ax handle - as if I knew something about replacing an ax handle. Some friendly advice from the guy at the hardware store and a man actually reading directions can gel to overcome many obstacles and in a matter of time the ax was enjoying a new golden age - a glory better than before the altercation with the stump. Amazing.
The good news of the day? My neighbor says that he now owns an ax with a new handle for the first time ever. The stump is now gurgling and hacking out in the front yard. My sons got to see dad make something that was wrong be made right again. I got to accomplish something that I had never before attempted and very soon, my wife will have a new and improved flower bed in front of the house. And best of all, that stump will be dead. I may let one of the kids pull it up, just to add insult to injury.
And all of that without the guys in the white coats getting called out to the house...at least I don't think they will...
Friday, April 9, 2010
April 9
I'd be remiss in my duties as a writer of Southern ramblings if I let April 9 come and go without so much as a mention. I've wanted to write something on this topic for some time, so here goes.
For all of you up north or elsewhere on the globe, the significance of the date is that it was the day that Robert E. Lee donned his finest uniform, polished to perfection and with great dignity and honor entered the home of Wilmer McLean to present the formal surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia to his dingy, mud covered fellow West Pointer, Union General Ulysses S. Grant (we all know his name was Hiram, but we humor him anyway). The time is memorialized in the song best known as performed by The Band (better performed by the Black Crowes and also butchered by Joan Baez) "The Night They Drove Ol' Dixie Down".
Yeah, I've read a little about it before. (And the version by The Crowes is my inspiration today)
There is a certain sadness in the heart of this Southern boy when I hear the very name "Appomattox". It marked the certain doom of the Confederacy and the end of an experiment. And yet, while the Tenth Amendment died in that house on that day, there was some good that came from that house. The abolition of human slavery on this continent (as it was operated then) was accelerated by several years and untold lives were saved as two formidable foes ceased trying to destroy each other.
I want to share a little about the fact that the Confederate Revolution was missing one major point that would have made all the difference. Like it's predecessor, the American Revolution, the Confederate Revolution was a fight for individual liberty, a war for freedom from tyranny, oppression and government manipulation. The problem is, they weren't fighting for all Southerners and that is the very thing that doomed the endeavor from the beginning.
The South is a diverse place, made of diverse people from diverse cultures. Each and every component is needed to get a true South. You have to have the West Paces Ferry Rd section of Atlanta, the Ninth Ward of New Orleans, The Great Smoky Mountains, the Paynes Prairie area of Florida, The Alamo, Beale Street in Memphis, The Grand Ole Opry and the 40 Watt - and so much more. You have to take it all or you lose the essence of what it is to be Southern. Tied in all of this is the food, music, lore, the very attitude of the region. And while on that evening of April 9, 1865, they may have drove ol' Dixie down, it wasn't so much a death as it was a second chance at life, the opportunity to go back and be Southern, truly Southern, with everyone and everything included.
If I'm honest, I have to say that part of me would like to see the day where another Southern Nation is born in the spirit of the Constitution but I also have to be honest and say that I would never want to see that nation allow Southerners, or any one else for that matter, to be chained in bondage while guilty of nothing but being a particular race. The immense freedom that is afforded in the Confederate form of government would only be beneficial to some if it were available to all.
I've said all of that to say that seeing the flag furled brings a tear to my eye. But it also reminds me that some people, even close friends of mine, would have been set back if that experiment had worked at that time. I could take this time to explain the facts that the war was about much, much more than slavery. I know that already, the statistics don't lie. But there are enough people arguing that point all over the South today and honestly, I'd rather see the South look to a promising future, one in which Slavery and Jim Crow are laid in their graves.
This isn't just another token "can't we all just get along" article. It is a statement of fact that Southern is a big word with a big definition and if we are to be truly Southern we have to be truly Southern - with liberty for all.
For all of you up north or elsewhere on the globe, the significance of the date is that it was the day that Robert E. Lee donned his finest uniform, polished to perfection and with great dignity and honor entered the home of Wilmer McLean to present the formal surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia to his dingy, mud covered fellow West Pointer, Union General Ulysses S. Grant (we all know his name was Hiram, but we humor him anyway). The time is memorialized in the song best known as performed by The Band (better performed by the Black Crowes and also butchered by Joan Baez) "The Night They Drove Ol' Dixie Down".
Yeah, I've read a little about it before. (And the version by The Crowes is my inspiration today)
There is a certain sadness in the heart of this Southern boy when I hear the very name "Appomattox". It marked the certain doom of the Confederacy and the end of an experiment. And yet, while the Tenth Amendment died in that house on that day, there was some good that came from that house. The abolition of human slavery on this continent (as it was operated then) was accelerated by several years and untold lives were saved as two formidable foes ceased trying to destroy each other.
I want to share a little about the fact that the Confederate Revolution was missing one major point that would have made all the difference. Like it's predecessor, the American Revolution, the Confederate Revolution was a fight for individual liberty, a war for freedom from tyranny, oppression and government manipulation. The problem is, they weren't fighting for all Southerners and that is the very thing that doomed the endeavor from the beginning.
The South is a diverse place, made of diverse people from diverse cultures. Each and every component is needed to get a true South. You have to have the West Paces Ferry Rd section of Atlanta, the Ninth Ward of New Orleans, The Great Smoky Mountains, the Paynes Prairie area of Florida, The Alamo, Beale Street in Memphis, The Grand Ole Opry and the 40 Watt - and so much more. You have to take it all or you lose the essence of what it is to be Southern. Tied in all of this is the food, music, lore, the very attitude of the region. And while on that evening of April 9, 1865, they may have drove ol' Dixie down, it wasn't so much a death as it was a second chance at life, the opportunity to go back and be Southern, truly Southern, with everyone and everything included.
If I'm honest, I have to say that part of me would like to see the day where another Southern Nation is born in the spirit of the Constitution but I also have to be honest and say that I would never want to see that nation allow Southerners, or any one else for that matter, to be chained in bondage while guilty of nothing but being a particular race. The immense freedom that is afforded in the Confederate form of government would only be beneficial to some if it were available to all.
I've said all of that to say that seeing the flag furled brings a tear to my eye. But it also reminds me that some people, even close friends of mine, would have been set back if that experiment had worked at that time. I could take this time to explain the facts that the war was about much, much more than slavery. I know that already, the statistics don't lie. But there are enough people arguing that point all over the South today and honestly, I'd rather see the South look to a promising future, one in which Slavery and Jim Crow are laid in their graves.
This isn't just another token "can't we all just get along" article. It is a statement of fact that Southern is a big word with a big definition and if we are to be truly Southern we have to be truly Southern - with liberty for all.
Monday, March 22, 2010
The Apprentice - Politics style
I wasn't sure what to make of what happened in the u.S. Congress yesterday. My initial feeling was a turning stomach and then something hit me. No, it wasn't a bus and it certainly wasn't the realization that I had been wrong all along.
What hit me was the realization that the Tea Act didn't last and neither did the Stamp Act. Or the Boston Port Act. Or the Massachusetts Government Act, Administration of Justice Act or the Quartering Act. While many people in today's society see the constant creep of government programs and other usurpation of our liberty with the "boiling a frog" analogy in mind I tend to take a different view after last evening's epiphany.
If it were not for the Intolerable Acts, we would all be British subjects.
What happened yesterday when our government passed a sweeping piece of legislation that is vehemently opposed by most Americans was a step in a series of new Intolerable Acts that is leading to a revolution of our own age. Now, before you fly out and call the ATF or FBI on me, let me explain.
Our form of government, the finest currently in use on Earth, was specially designed by people that understood that people are pretty good when out in the wild, just trying to hammer out a life. They also realized that this trait was nullified after an extended period in a position of power - like 15, maybe 20 minutes. These same people had just completed a seven year revolution during which metal balls of various circumferences were hurled from tubes of various sizes striking people violently while long sharp objects of various sizes were jabbed into people. They probably weren't completely beyond more of the same if needed but they would have liked a better way when this became necessary once again.
So they came up with the idea of letting the people peaceably overthrow the government every two years, whether it needed it or not - which, usually, it does. All 435 members of the House of Representatives can be fired every 730 days, give or take. The executive branch gets a one-revolution reprieve coming up to possibly be fired every four years and the Senate has immunity for two overthrows - only 1/3 of them can be pulled into the boardroom per revolution.
The greatest thing in all of this is that instead of Donald Trump, these candidates have to squirm and stutter while facing their bosses - you and me. And we can be much less forgiving than The Donald. Just ask Jimmy Carter.
So now we consider the boardroom. These candidates come in and toot their horns about how great they are or have been and how raunchy and stupid the other candidates are and how sorry you will be if you don't fire them. You have an opportunity to listen to all the yakking and even a few opportunities to ask questions and dig around looking for what the reality in the issue is. And then the moment of truth. You go into the polling location and check one box, effectively turning to the other candidate with a firm glare and saying "You're fired!"
So this is where you decide what constitutes a good job in your eyes. You be The Donald.
Me? I hate this health care bill. I hate the "because I'm the President" mentality in Washington - and not just from Obama. It is hard to comprehend that when visitors knocked on the front door of the White House, Thomas Jefferson answered it. John Tyler was playing marbles with his children when he learned he had become President. President John Quincy Adams swam in the Potomac...in the nude. I want someone real in there. I realize the world has changed and that the President won't be answering the door at the White House any time soon. But let's remember which one of us is the boss and which is the employee, ok?
That is just one example. And while the current political climate is heated, is it really any more partisan than when Vice President Aaron Burr killed former treasury secretary Alexander Hamilton in a duel over a slight related to an election? Is it more abrasive than when Congressman Preston Brooks walked into the Senate chamber and beat Senator Charles Sumner with a walking cane for having insulted Brooks' uncle, Andrew Butler? Partisan bickering in America predates the republic itself.
So now you have to sit in the big chair, weigh your candidates' performance in their duties or their preparedness to assume the duties anew. Then the decision is yours. Who do you fire? Who ever you keep be prepared to deal with them until the next boardroom in 2012.
What hit me was the realization that the Tea Act didn't last and neither did the Stamp Act. Or the Boston Port Act. Or the Massachusetts Government Act, Administration of Justice Act or the Quartering Act. While many people in today's society see the constant creep of government programs and other usurpation of our liberty with the "boiling a frog" analogy in mind I tend to take a different view after last evening's epiphany.
If it were not for the Intolerable Acts, we would all be British subjects.
What happened yesterday when our government passed a sweeping piece of legislation that is vehemently opposed by most Americans was a step in a series of new Intolerable Acts that is leading to a revolution of our own age. Now, before you fly out and call the ATF or FBI on me, let me explain.
Our form of government, the finest currently in use on Earth, was specially designed by people that understood that people are pretty good when out in the wild, just trying to hammer out a life. They also realized that this trait was nullified after an extended period in a position of power - like 15, maybe 20 minutes. These same people had just completed a seven year revolution during which metal balls of various circumferences were hurled from tubes of various sizes striking people violently while long sharp objects of various sizes were jabbed into people. They probably weren't completely beyond more of the same if needed but they would have liked a better way when this became necessary once again.
So they came up with the idea of letting the people peaceably overthrow the government every two years, whether it needed it or not - which, usually, it does. All 435 members of the House of Representatives can be fired every 730 days, give or take. The executive branch gets a one-revolution reprieve coming up to possibly be fired every four years and the Senate has immunity for two overthrows - only 1/3 of them can be pulled into the boardroom per revolution.
The greatest thing in all of this is that instead of Donald Trump, these candidates have to squirm and stutter while facing their bosses - you and me. And we can be much less forgiving than The Donald. Just ask Jimmy Carter.
So now we consider the boardroom. These candidates come in and toot their horns about how great they are or have been and how raunchy and stupid the other candidates are and how sorry you will be if you don't fire them. You have an opportunity to listen to all the yakking and even a few opportunities to ask questions and dig around looking for what the reality in the issue is. And then the moment of truth. You go into the polling location and check one box, effectively turning to the other candidate with a firm glare and saying "You're fired!"
So this is where you decide what constitutes a good job in your eyes. You be The Donald.
Me? I hate this health care bill. I hate the "because I'm the President" mentality in Washington - and not just from Obama. It is hard to comprehend that when visitors knocked on the front door of the White House, Thomas Jefferson answered it. John Tyler was playing marbles with his children when he learned he had become President. President John Quincy Adams swam in the Potomac...in the nude. I want someone real in there. I realize the world has changed and that the President won't be answering the door at the White House any time soon. But let's remember which one of us is the boss and which is the employee, ok?
That is just one example. And while the current political climate is heated, is it really any more partisan than when Vice President Aaron Burr killed former treasury secretary Alexander Hamilton in a duel over a slight related to an election? Is it more abrasive than when Congressman Preston Brooks walked into the Senate chamber and beat Senator Charles Sumner with a walking cane for having insulted Brooks' uncle, Andrew Butler? Partisan bickering in America predates the republic itself.
So now you have to sit in the big chair, weigh your candidates' performance in their duties or their preparedness to assume the duties anew. Then the decision is yours. Who do you fire? Who ever you keep be prepared to deal with them until the next boardroom in 2012.
Monday, March 15, 2010
School
I've been kicking this idea around for a few days, trying to decide if I really want to hit this topic. I just don't know about stepping on toes...
And y'all know me better than that!
I have heard comments from several different people in the last couple of months that all we need is to put God/prayer back in school and all the problems with education and schools in general will go away.
I get this little twitch in my neck when I hear that said and I bite my tongue and go on (reference "Swine Song" ) . This is something I have thought long and hard about and I'd like to explain exactly why I do not support prayer in school.
I'm married to a teacher. Her mom is a retired teacher. My mother taught kindergarten when I was younger and works as a substitute to this day. My younger brother works in special education. I've got about 47,000 friends from college that became teachers. I've seen education from the teachers' point of view.
I've also seen it from the student's point of view. Most of my influences in life have been either directly or indirectly from teachers. I was taught early on about rabble-rousers and miscreants by a lady named Scottie Bates - (cementing in the foundation of my heroes a bunch of revolutionaries and rebels). Another lady named Sandra Jackson taught me about all the beauty of literature and, in her own far more eloquent words, taught me that all good books have pissed someone off - and so much more. I was taught about mental toughness and teamwork by men named Danny Wiseman, Rick Walker and Allen Gossett.
I went to college and learned about critical thinking, writing and making an intelligent argument from Janet Smart, Steven Whitton and Harvey Jackson. I also did some higher studies in teamwork and mental toughness with Bill Burgess, Jim Skidmore and many others.
And by now you have to be asking what any of this rambling has to do with prayer in school. Well, nothing. That's the point. In fact, out of all the influences I mentioned, I've only seen two of them pray, and that was not in a classroom setting. In fact, several of these people left me in positions to question what I believe...which actually made it stronger. After looking at faith through the eyes of criticism and really asking why I believe what I believe, only then could I make an educated decision on faith. After all, "Mark Twain isn't a sweet old guy in an ice cream man uniform" and "Most of the people in this world didn't go to church with you".
I learned how to pray from my mom and dad as well as influences that I had at church (as well on my own while in drills with Wiseman, Walker and Gossett and working for Burgess and Skidmore). The point in listing my teachers and what they taught me is to say they are busy teaching the subject at hand. With ingenious (read mind-bogglingly stupid) policies like "No Child Left Behind" teachers have to spend the majority of their time teaching kids how to pass standardized tests and teach them actual material if time allows. This is not education, this is test-taking strategy transferal. It is unfair to teachers and students and devastating to our society. So, when exactly are they going to pray with their students?
The other reason I don't support prayer in school is because this is America - a nation founded on Judeo-Christian principles, by people who believed in a creator for...well...um...for whoever wants to come here and take a stab at the American Dream. How are Christians going to feel about the Pakistani-American math teacher leading class in a prayer to Allah? Probably about the same as the Indian-American parents are going to feel about the Southern Baptist geography teacher (let's pretend they still have time to teach geography in school) leading students in a Christian prayer. See what I'm saying?
And then there are those that would argue that we shouldn't allow people of "other religions" to teach in our schools. Guys...really...welcome to the 21st century. I want my kids to learn from the best available in the given field. Period. That First Amendment thing is a multi-lane highway that we can all drive on.
So, I guess what I'm saying is that our teachers have enough crap to deal with. Maybe we need to be as adamant about "prayer for school" as we are for "prayer in school". Maybe if we take some time to make the work of our teachers a little easier or just shoot them a note to say we appreciate them...yeah, that sounds good or maybe a note to the governor or the state assembly to tell THEM how much you appreciate teachers.
If you can read this...then you'll know I hate silly cliches...but thank a teacher anyway.
And y'all know me better than that!
I have heard comments from several different people in the last couple of months that all we need is to put God/prayer back in school and all the problems with education and schools in general will go away.
I get this little twitch in my neck when I hear that said and I bite my tongue and go on (reference "Swine Song" ) . This is something I have thought long and hard about and I'd like to explain exactly why I do not support prayer in school.
I'm married to a teacher. Her mom is a retired teacher. My mother taught kindergarten when I was younger and works as a substitute to this day. My younger brother works in special education. I've got about 47,000 friends from college that became teachers. I've seen education from the teachers' point of view.
I've also seen it from the student's point of view. Most of my influences in life have been either directly or indirectly from teachers. I was taught early on about rabble-rousers and miscreants by a lady named Scottie Bates - (cementing in the foundation of my heroes a bunch of revolutionaries and rebels). Another lady named Sandra Jackson taught me about all the beauty of literature and, in her own far more eloquent words, taught me that all good books have pissed someone off - and so much more. I was taught about mental toughness and teamwork by men named Danny Wiseman, Rick Walker and Allen Gossett.
I went to college and learned about critical thinking, writing and making an intelligent argument from Janet Smart, Steven Whitton and Harvey Jackson. I also did some higher studies in teamwork and mental toughness with Bill Burgess, Jim Skidmore and many others.
And by now you have to be asking what any of this rambling has to do with prayer in school. Well, nothing. That's the point. In fact, out of all the influences I mentioned, I've only seen two of them pray, and that was not in a classroom setting. In fact, several of these people left me in positions to question what I believe...which actually made it stronger. After looking at faith through the eyes of criticism and really asking why I believe what I believe, only then could I make an educated decision on faith. After all, "Mark Twain isn't a sweet old guy in an ice cream man uniform" and "Most of the people in this world didn't go to church with you".
I learned how to pray from my mom and dad as well as influences that I had at church (as well on my own while in drills with Wiseman, Walker and Gossett and working for Burgess and Skidmore). The point in listing my teachers and what they taught me is to say they are busy teaching the subject at hand. With ingenious (read mind-bogglingly stupid) policies like "No Child Left Behind" teachers have to spend the majority of their time teaching kids how to pass standardized tests and teach them actual material if time allows. This is not education, this is test-taking strategy transferal. It is unfair to teachers and students and devastating to our society. So, when exactly are they going to pray with their students?
The other reason I don't support prayer in school is because this is America - a nation founded on Judeo-Christian principles, by people who believed in a creator for...well...um...for whoever wants to come here and take a stab at the American Dream. How are Christians going to feel about the Pakistani-American math teacher leading class in a prayer to Allah? Probably about the same as the Indian-American parents are going to feel about the Southern Baptist geography teacher (let's pretend they still have time to teach geography in school) leading students in a Christian prayer. See what I'm saying?
And then there are those that would argue that we shouldn't allow people of "other religions" to teach in our schools. Guys...really...welcome to the 21st century. I want my kids to learn from the best available in the given field. Period. That First Amendment thing is a multi-lane highway that we can all drive on.
So, I guess what I'm saying is that our teachers have enough crap to deal with. Maybe we need to be as adamant about "prayer for school" as we are for "prayer in school". Maybe if we take some time to make the work of our teachers a little easier or just shoot them a note to say we appreciate them...yeah, that sounds good or maybe a note to the governor or the state assembly to tell THEM how much you appreciate teachers.
If you can read this...then you'll know I hate silly cliches...but thank a teacher anyway.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Pass the Tabasco
Time to eat some crow.
I don't know how long it will take but one of these days I'm going to get past all the things in the days before I let my curious nature have a longer leash. As for today, I'll just see if I can make this dead scavenger bird taste a little better.
A few years back, in more closed minded and intolerant times, there arose a stink in this town over a church with a new "pastoral team" a husband and wife that had taken the task of leading a local church together. It wasn't "the pastor and his wife" it was a "co-pastor" situation.
Heretics.
This was right in the middle of the "Baptist Faith and Message 2000" which was essentially designed to be the proverbial straw breaking the liberal camel's back. It was the knockout punch that the conservative branch of the Southern Baptist Convention had been hoping for. The conservatives played the good guy role in that they were "supporting Scripture" and that they were not running anyone off "if they leave on their own, that is too bad". The liberals were arguing that they were not breaking any Scriptural rules and that they could not in good conscience stay under an umbrella that had drawn such a decree against them. And looking back, who could blame them?
There was this young, naive, blond-headed kid standing over there with the cons. Yeah, I wish I could go back and shake some sense into that kid. Maybe I wouldn't be here plucking a nasty crow.
Enough background.
I opened up the website of our local newspaper today looking for a particularly pertinent news story and instead found a story about the very church that sparked the controversy in the above paragraphs. Turns out that they are the new recipients of a grant from their new found denomination. The money is going to go to serving the distressed neighborhood that surrounds the church. They are going to offer GED training (complete with childcare for the pupils), SAT and ACT training, medical and counseling services, they are going to be providing access to prescription medication for HIV/AIDS patients in their neighborhood and starting a support group for area children that have lost a parent.
Not bad for a bunch of heathens that need to be run out of town, huh?
I'm not in agreement with a lot of what goes on at this particular Baptist church or any Baptist church for that matter. However, when I see a group that I had been convinced were wrong, wrong, wrong loving their neighbors in such a way, I am reminded of another anathema, one from Scripture. I am reminded of a Samaritan, scum of the Earth that he was, that stopped and helped a wounded man and didn't leave his side until he was sure the man was in a good place. This story reminds me also that there were others, the conservatives, that were too busy being conservatives, being holy and being right to stop and do what the teachings of Jesus Christ compel us to do. What a testimony. Thank God for the Samaritan churches in this world!
Umm, ummm, this sure is a tasty crow!
I don't know how long it will take but one of these days I'm going to get past all the things in the days before I let my curious nature have a longer leash. As for today, I'll just see if I can make this dead scavenger bird taste a little better.
A few years back, in more closed minded and intolerant times, there arose a stink in this town over a church with a new "pastoral team" a husband and wife that had taken the task of leading a local church together. It wasn't "the pastor and his wife" it was a "co-pastor" situation.
Heretics.
This was right in the middle of the "Baptist Faith and Message 2000" which was essentially designed to be the proverbial straw breaking the liberal camel's back. It was the knockout punch that the conservative branch of the Southern Baptist Convention had been hoping for. The conservatives played the good guy role in that they were "supporting Scripture" and that they were not running anyone off "if they leave on their own, that is too bad". The liberals were arguing that they were not breaking any Scriptural rules and that they could not in good conscience stay under an umbrella that had drawn such a decree against them. And looking back, who could blame them?
There was this young, naive, blond-headed kid standing over there with the cons. Yeah, I wish I could go back and shake some sense into that kid. Maybe I wouldn't be here plucking a nasty crow.
Enough background.
I opened up the website of our local newspaper today looking for a particularly pertinent news story and instead found a story about the very church that sparked the controversy in the above paragraphs. Turns out that they are the new recipients of a grant from their new found denomination. The money is going to go to serving the distressed neighborhood that surrounds the church. They are going to offer GED training (complete with childcare for the pupils), SAT and ACT training, medical and counseling services, they are going to be providing access to prescription medication for HIV/AIDS patients in their neighborhood and starting a support group for area children that have lost a parent.
Not bad for a bunch of heathens that need to be run out of town, huh?
I'm not in agreement with a lot of what goes on at this particular Baptist church or any Baptist church for that matter. However, when I see a group that I had been convinced were wrong, wrong, wrong loving their neighbors in such a way, I am reminded of another anathema, one from Scripture. I am reminded of a Samaritan, scum of the Earth that he was, that stopped and helped a wounded man and didn't leave his side until he was sure the man was in a good place. This story reminds me also that there were others, the conservatives, that were too busy being conservatives, being holy and being right to stop and do what the teachings of Jesus Christ compel us to do. What a testimony. Thank God for the Samaritan churches in this world!
Umm, ummm, this sure is a tasty crow!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Speaking for the Trees
I'd be remiss if I let the anniversary of the birth of the great Dr. Seuss go by without at least a mention. I know that the ol' Doc had at least some impact on me as his work was some of the first I ever read on my own. While "The Cat in the Hat" was early in the reading list and it seems that you cannot attend a graduation these days where the valedictorian doesn't quote that poem that I once loved to hear, there is another Seuss book that comes to mind today.
I don't make a lot of bones about the fact that I am a capitalist, a proponent of private property rights and a believer in progress of a reasonable and healthy development of society. I'm not really what you would call an environmentalist.
Ok, by now you have caught on to the fact that my favorite Seuss book of all time is The Lorax.
To me, matters of environment and conservation are just common sense. As long as they remain matters of common sense, I stand behind them. Although I tend to be more judgemental of the environmentalists, I want to admit that there is a serious need for a lot of what they say.
So here is what I really want to say. The ol' Once-ler went belly up because he had no restraint. There was no planning for the future - just lop Truffulas as long as they are there and worry about the rest later. Yeah, he made a lot of money while the getting was good but he fouled up his surrounding and lopped himself out of a living. It is a basic struggle between waste and responsibility.
So, I look at this struggle through my eyes and see what the Lorax taught me. I like to recycle. I don't see it as some crusade that I have to stick to but the fact is, there really is no "away" to throw things. If we just keep filling up landfills and finding new ones, we are using up habitat for many animals...AHEM!...many of the game animals that we like to hunt. Any of you guys try to find a good place to hunt lately? What about all that junk that winds up in the water? Do you really want to eat that fish?
Practically speaking, many conservation efforts make practical sense to everyone. And that is why I don't mind pondering "UNLESS". I know that the story takes the issue to the extreme - like I've never done that to prove a point. I know that it is impressionable to the young children that make up its targeted audience. That is why we have to be there to balance the message and to make sure that the message does not become fulfilled prophecy.
I could go on and on about how many innovative products can be made from petroleum (making the combustion of it sort of silly) and how many different fuels could actually propel our vehicles. I could ramble about wasting space, wasting material, putting too much nasty smog in the air and, most important to me, all the noise, noise, noise! But there is no need to go to extremes.
So don't let the governments and the Al Gores of the world make the determinations about environmental issues. Let's look at waste vs responsibility for ourselves. I don't think the Lorax would be as excited about Kyoto or Copenhagen as he would be about me and the decisions I make in Georgia and you and the decisions you make where you are. Know what you are using, buying, discarding - where it comes from and where it goes. It matters.
Happy birthday, Dr. Seuss. Thanks for all the stories and the memories.
I don't make a lot of bones about the fact that I am a capitalist, a proponent of private property rights and a believer in progress of a reasonable and healthy development of society. I'm not really what you would call an environmentalist.
Ok, by now you have caught on to the fact that my favorite Seuss book of all time is The Lorax.
To me, matters of environment and conservation are just common sense. As long as they remain matters of common sense, I stand behind them. Although I tend to be more judgemental of the environmentalists, I want to admit that there is a serious need for a lot of what they say.
So here is what I really want to say. The ol' Once-ler went belly up because he had no restraint. There was no planning for the future - just lop Truffulas as long as they are there and worry about the rest later. Yeah, he made a lot of money while the getting was good but he fouled up his surrounding and lopped himself out of a living. It is a basic struggle between waste and responsibility.
So, I look at this struggle through my eyes and see what the Lorax taught me. I like to recycle. I don't see it as some crusade that I have to stick to but the fact is, there really is no "away" to throw things. If we just keep filling up landfills and finding new ones, we are using up habitat for many animals...AHEM!...many of the game animals that we like to hunt. Any of you guys try to find a good place to hunt lately? What about all that junk that winds up in the water? Do you really want to eat that fish?
Practically speaking, many conservation efforts make practical sense to everyone. And that is why I don't mind pondering "UNLESS". I know that the story takes the issue to the extreme - like I've never done that to prove a point. I know that it is impressionable to the young children that make up its targeted audience. That is why we have to be there to balance the message and to make sure that the message does not become fulfilled prophecy.
I could go on and on about how many innovative products can be made from petroleum (making the combustion of it sort of silly) and how many different fuels could actually propel our vehicles. I could ramble about wasting space, wasting material, putting too much nasty smog in the air and, most important to me, all the noise, noise, noise! But there is no need to go to extremes.
So don't let the governments and the Al Gores of the world make the determinations about environmental issues. Let's look at waste vs responsibility for ourselves. I don't think the Lorax would be as excited about Kyoto or Copenhagen as he would be about me and the decisions I make in Georgia and you and the decisions you make where you are. Know what you are using, buying, discarding - where it comes from and where it goes. It matters.
Happy birthday, Dr. Seuss. Thanks for all the stories and the memories.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Green Fields of the Southern Mind
Bart Giamatti penned a poem that I often hear quoted in the fall by people who adore the game of baseball. "The Green Fields of the Mind". There is a line in it that frustrates me. "The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone."
Alone? In the fall? In Georgia? Not hardly!
What actually happens is that baseball tries to outstay its welcome, lingering well past August and tying up radio broadcasts and interrupting good football with score updates and highlights. And then in October, it finally goes away and we can focus on the great game played by the big boys on the gridirons. And how wonderful that time is. The glory and festivity of Southern Saturdays leads up to the annual rituals of late December and early January when southerners storm the fields of bowls and playoffs and humiliate schools from other regions - treating their players like little children and leaving them wondering how they could rack up 11 wins back home but couldn't manage to cross the 50 to save their lives.
And then the college teams mothball their gear.
The mercenaries hang in there, getting us through the American secular holiday known as Super Sunday. Not as glorious or as impressive as the school boys but enough to keep the DTs at bay.
And then there is REAL abandonment.
Football goes away. We are left with clouds, cold and groundhogs see their shadows, frost covers the Earth. And then, just when you think it couldn't get any worse....someone mentions something about a hot stove. And then there are pitchers and catchers allegedly writing some kind of reports. Someone inevitably gets cut - didn't realize they allowed knives in baseball. Then the Atlanta Braves appear on 47 of the 48 channels that a standard car radio will pick up in this area. That other station is picking up the Braves "A" affiliate in Rome.
At sometime during the summer, you make an escape to the beach, the mountains or maybe Disney and "everything you think you see becomes a (football) to me!"
We will survive the summer. We will make it to August and then the hopeful news will begin to trickle...two-a-days begin...then the "Place color/color here" games are played...picture day...fan day...media day...time to hit someone!
Oh, yes. We will survive the summer. There will be a lot of sweet tea, a lot of swatting gnats and a lot of listening to radio guys talking about how great Glavine was. But August will get here.
But until then, we'll just sit here and twitch....
Alone? In the fall? In Georgia? Not hardly!
What actually happens is that baseball tries to outstay its welcome, lingering well past August and tying up radio broadcasts and interrupting good football with score updates and highlights. And then in October, it finally goes away and we can focus on the great game played by the big boys on the gridirons. And how wonderful that time is. The glory and festivity of Southern Saturdays leads up to the annual rituals of late December and early January when southerners storm the fields of bowls and playoffs and humiliate schools from other regions - treating their players like little children and leaving them wondering how they could rack up 11 wins back home but couldn't manage to cross the 50 to save their lives.
And then the college teams mothball their gear.
The mercenaries hang in there, getting us through the American secular holiday known as Super Sunday. Not as glorious or as impressive as the school boys but enough to keep the DTs at bay.
And then there is REAL abandonment.
Football goes away. We are left with clouds, cold and groundhogs see their shadows, frost covers the Earth. And then, just when you think it couldn't get any worse....someone mentions something about a hot stove. And then there are pitchers and catchers allegedly writing some kind of reports. Someone inevitably gets cut - didn't realize they allowed knives in baseball. Then the Atlanta Braves appear on 47 of the 48 channels that a standard car radio will pick up in this area. That other station is picking up the Braves "A" affiliate in Rome.
At sometime during the summer, you make an escape to the beach, the mountains or maybe Disney and "everything you think you see becomes a (football) to me!"
We will survive the summer. We will make it to August and then the hopeful news will begin to trickle...two-a-days begin...then the "Place color/color here" games are played...picture day...fan day...media day...time to hit someone!
Oh, yes. We will survive the summer. There will be a lot of sweet tea, a lot of swatting gnats and a lot of listening to radio guys talking about how great Glavine was. But August will get here.
But until then, we'll just sit here and twitch....
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Lemmings
Remember when you were a kid and your mom asked you "if Billy goes and jumps off a cliff are you going to go and jump too"? All those years ago mom was trying to do a little more than defend our earlier bedtime and keep us from supplementing our diets with live goldfish.
In a world of political parties and religious denominations it is becoming more and more difficult to find free thinkers - people with their own ideas, forged on an anvil of knowledge with a hammer of curiosity. So I asked a friend the other day why people are so willing to become lemmings - as in the small arctic rodents that allegedly commit mass suicide during migration. The truth is, they don't. Even they are smarter than that. So why are people so willing to follow others off a cliff simply because they somehow identify with them?
Thomas Jefferson once said that he had "sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man". Obviously this included the Crown of Great Britain. But I don't think Jefferson stopped there in his thinking. He founded the University of Virginia, which was an accomplishment held in higher esteem by him than his presidency. Educating the minds of young people was more important to his hostility than policy. His authorship of The Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom (also favored above his presidency) was to ensure that people could not be told by the government how they can and cannot worship God. Religious freedom was more important to him than policy.
Jefferson was not the only one to espouse such ideas. I chose him because of his passion in the quote above. (Well, that and the fact that he is the greatest political mind in the history of the united States, but back to the point.)
In America, and many other places, there is no one forcing you to have any particular point of view. No bullets being launched at dissenters. The heads that spout opposing voices never roll. Yet, the Tiananmen Square incident happened where bullets are launched and heads do roll. And in America, where there is no serious threat, our personal belief system can be boxed up in the statement "yeah, what he said". Our religious beliefs are along the same lines. Why is it that in a nation built on rugged individualism, we have become several colonies of lemmings, ready to follow strangers off a cliff? Are we still disregarding mom's voice after all these years? You're smarter than a rat.
In a world of political parties and religious denominations it is becoming more and more difficult to find free thinkers - people with their own ideas, forged on an anvil of knowledge with a hammer of curiosity. So I asked a friend the other day why people are so willing to become lemmings - as in the small arctic rodents that allegedly commit mass suicide during migration. The truth is, they don't. Even they are smarter than that. So why are people so willing to follow others off a cliff simply because they somehow identify with them?
Thomas Jefferson once said that he had "sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man". Obviously this included the Crown of Great Britain. But I don't think Jefferson stopped there in his thinking. He founded the University of Virginia, which was an accomplishment held in higher esteem by him than his presidency. Educating the minds of young people was more important to his hostility than policy. His authorship of The Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom (also favored above his presidency) was to ensure that people could not be told by the government how they can and cannot worship God. Religious freedom was more important to him than policy.
Jefferson was not the only one to espouse such ideas. I chose him because of his passion in the quote above. (Well, that and the fact that he is the greatest political mind in the history of the united States, but back to the point.)
In America, and many other places, there is no one forcing you to have any particular point of view. No bullets being launched at dissenters. The heads that spout opposing voices never roll. Yet, the Tiananmen Square incident happened where bullets are launched and heads do roll. And in America, where there is no serious threat, our personal belief system can be boxed up in the statement "yeah, what he said". Our religious beliefs are along the same lines. Why is it that in a nation built on rugged individualism, we have become several colonies of lemmings, ready to follow strangers off a cliff? Are we still disregarding mom's voice after all these years? You're smarter than a rat.
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