Wash Post's "Barney & Clyde"

is almost as bad as "Judge Parker". Not even as good as "Mark Trail" and the drawing for "Mark Trail" is horrid. I'll read the comics in the Post and the comics are one of the few reasons why I still subscribe to the paper. Sadly, unlike religion, if I don't like it, it's not like there's another church around the corner that I can go to instead. Yes, there is the Washington Times, but that's akin to being really annoyed with your Anglican Church and the only other churches in town is the Greek Orthodox Church and a bunch of storefronts. Thank goodness for "Zits" and "Baldo" and "Dilbert".
Now why do I hate "Barney & Clyde"? So far it has failed to make me laugh or even smile. I don't care about the characters because they are 1930s types in a 2010 world. The last time I was on the feed the homeless of DC truck, the homeless didn't have patches or fedoras. "Dan" (I think his name is Dan) or as I've thought of him "ZZ Top" the homeless guy near the Archives/ Navy Memorial station is a baseball cap, moderately worn jeans and T-Shirt wearing dude. A few years ago he was clean shaven but now he's sporting more of the motorcycle gang member look. And then you've got the crazies. Those are the ones with the ripped clothing and the busted shoes. I think it is a great testament to all the various churches and non-profits that offer free clothing, food, and counseling.
I ran into a homeless fellow I knew from the late 90s. I would see him everyday when I was working at the museum, and give him fruit or a yogurt, but never money. Anyway about a month I ran into him on my way to lunch at Oyamel. He's also a beared baseball cap man. He's also a vet. I did notice he was wearing those socks/stockings diabetics need to wear and gathered that's from the VA. He's mentioned his trips to the VA for various medical services. We had a nice long chat about the oil spill in the Gulf, slavery (modern and 19th cent), and the weather.
Sadly I don't know any billionaires personally. That I know of. I'm separated by 2 or 3 degrees from that amount of wealth. And if I were a person of wealth I'd spend a great amount of time on foundations and charities. I'd set up the CR Murphy and the Tom Bard Scholarships for mediocre students (there's enough money for genuius) of Irish decent and for guys named "Tom" or "Thomas" or some variation who are over 6'1" but under 7'. I would not be as the comic's billionaire moping around.
Simply said, Barney and Clyde suck.

Compline and the Book of Common Prayer

Apparently the missal for Anglican Use is out of print... And yes I could get the PDF from the Anglican Use website, but I like the little book, so BCP it is.
Ever since I encountered compline at the convent in Catonsville, MD I fell in love with it. It is an excellent way to end the day. However on my own I have the darnest time trying to figure it out. But I muddle through. It has given me comfort.

Anti-government

Disclosure- I work for the government, & I'm here to help.

One of the reasons why big corporate agriculture can determine what you eat is that they are in cahoots with the government that makes laws and regulates that best suits agribusiness. The legal word "organic" has been co-opted and taken away from the hippies who supported the movement and now Cargill owns it and the farmer at the farmer's market can't claim it because it requires approval by the Ag bureaucrat (more trouble than it's worth) who doesn't have the spirit of organic in his/her heart.
Government is a lot of things. Good things, bad things, mundane things, and things we don't even think about. Your tax dollars feed single mothers, undermine democratically elected governments, save stranded boaters, blow up innocent civilians, kill inmates, seizes property, floods the market with cheap corn with subsidies, raids banks, encourages home ownership, builds roads, builds prisons, props up 3rd world strongmen, keeps up National Parks, and a whole slew of stuff.

Pasta Salad

Despite being very sore towards someone right now, I will say that previously I hoped marriage would be like pasta salad. Currently I'm trying to put marriage out of my mind. Let me explain. You know how people focus on the thought that in marriage you are stuck with the same person day after day and it is like eating the same thing day after day. Well sometimes when I discover a dish I love, I try to eat it day after day after day. Pasta salad is such a dish.
Here are the ingredients:

Rotini (originally called for tortellini)
Peas
Olive Oil
Garlic
Parsley
Dijon mustard
lemon juice
Red wine vinigar
Salt
Grated Parmesan cheese

I don't give measurements because I've been making this since forever. I get the water boiling and throw the rotini in for 6-9 minutes, depending on the package or experience. While that's going I squeeze the lemon, put the garlic in the crusher and deposit in the juice. Experience has taught me that the garlic is less likely to taste funny if I have it sit in the citrus. Then I take some vinegar and shake about a few drops into it.Then add some parsley, and mustard. I stir it up then add oil. The original recipe said about 1/2 of the volume should be oil. I make it less so. Just enough to get a good dressing. I try to emulsify. Then I add a boat load of cheese.
About 2 minutes before the pasta is done, I throw in frozen early peas. When the timer goes off, I drain the pasta and the peas and add them to the cheesy dressing. I love this dish. And each time I make it, it is different. The quality of the ingredients can differ, the measurements differ, my mood, what I'm drinking to accent the flavors differ, the heat of the pasta when it hits the cheese, etc. A bunch of differing factors makes the same dish different. Sometimes I use fresh lemon juice, or farmer's market peas, or fresh parsley from the garden and lots of it. All I know are the last 10 spirals in my bowl of the dish are the most precious things in the world and I try to savor them slowly.

Yea South Carolina.

I was very eager last night to hear what the results of the South Carolina race because of two Republican candidates Nikki Haley and Tim Scott, but mainly Nikki Haley. Why? Because they are both people of color, tea party supported (okay TP split over Scott)and Southern. I’m excited about them because their existence denounces the outdated narrative about the South and the Republican party. I’ll be the first to tell you that the Republican party is completely tone deaf when it comes to racial sensitivities. Totally tone deaf and clueless and at points racially insensitive. Being all kumbaya about race was never and still isn’t the GOP’s shtick. And despite this there is a place for people of color and women in leadership and the ranks of the party.
Now myself being a registered Republican in the District of Columbia my vote most of the time counts for jack. This city is over 80% Democrat. The Democratic primary usually chooses the mayor and most of the city council. Because the city is so overwhelmingly Democratic I don’t believe we’ll ever get voting rights. In a GOP lead administration there is no chance of voting rights because the city is overwhelmingly of the opposing party and would only produce (D-DC) congressmembers. In Democratic administration at some point it dawns on them that they really don’t need to try that hard because succeed or fail DC is their bitch, their political booty call.
But back to SC. Yea! Especially for Nikki Haley, the female Methodist Bobby Jindal provided she makes it to win the race in November. Imagine another Southern state electing an Indian-American. I’m glad she survived the stupid whisper campaigns regarding her martial fidelity and her faith. I mean come on! If she has family who are Sikhs at some point she’s gonna wind up in a Sikh temple. I mean I’m no longer Baptist but there is a fair chance I’ll be sitting in a pew at a Baptist Church in the next year or two because of my aunts, my parents, my nieces, or any other random relative for a funeral or wedding or other church sponsored event. So the idea that she might not be a ‘real’ Christian because she has been to a Sikh temple since her conversion is stupid.

Happy Father's Day

Mommy reminded me that I needed to call daddy today. So I figured they'd be up around 8. So I called and mom answered. She went to get daddy and returned telling me to call back in 5 minutes because he was still praying. Okay.
Things are so much easier since my parents got back together. They are living in sin, but they are back together. They divorced 10 years ago after a very rocky marriage and lately reconciled. They haven't yet remarried. It would be nice. Until then I remind them that they are living in sin.
When I say rocky, I mean daddy in his youth (20somthing to 40something) was an abusive husband, and for two daughters as less than stellar father. But he was there and somewhat interested in our upbringing, though he wasn't quick to show it. Looking back I am thankful that he was there, a statement that would bewilder my 16-17 year old self, when I was all for my parents divorcing. What I would tell my 16-17 year old self is it will work out in time, trust in G-d, forgive, and that mommy has lousy luck with men so sadly she's not going to do better. I wouldn't encourage a woman to stay with a physically abusive husband or partner for the sake of the kids, but she really has to be exceptionally careful and/or be willing to be celibate for a very long time for the sake of her kids. There are some real A*holes out there and some women keep repeating the same mistakes with new boyfriends. Just sayin'.
Anyway, back to daddy. I'm happy he's easier to locate now that mommy knows where he is. I'm happy that Jesus got a hold of him and changed his life. It would have been nice if the Savior did this while I was a kid, but the Lord's will be done, when he chooses.
The conversations are easier. We have something to talk about. The house, the grand kids (nieces), church, and the slim chance of him retiring are topics we can discuss. But daddy is not a phone person, so the call didn't last long, but way longer and it was less awkward than the time when they were separated.

Special Chicken

Okay I finally defrosted and cooked most of the Maryland local, free range chicken that cost me $17 for the whole bird. I had set aside the breasts for chicken marsala. Then I went to the bodega to pick up some items for ice cream making when the owner mentioned he had some fresh chicken. Oh, fresh chicken! The last time I had bought chicken, the $17 deal, it was frozen. So When I was ready I had to deal with the whole bird. I figured with a fresh chicken I could cut up and cook the parts as needed. This bugger cost me over $20. So I got home. Figured I would cut it up into parts and freeze it.
I had butchered half of it when I bothered to take a look at the packaging. It was a Polyface chicken. The same Polyface Farm as featured in Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma. I was immediately struck with my own dilemma. Was I going to continue with my plan or was I going to see if fresh chicken from Polyface tasted as good as the hype not knowing if the freezing would make a difference. Since I had cut up half of it that was going into the freezer. The other half was going to be roasted.
I chose a recipe from the Gospel According to St. Martha, aka Martha Stewart Living. It was simple. Preheat oven to 425F. Take a chicken, put on foiled cookie sheet (foil not according to recipe but my desire for easy clean up). Brush with butter. Though I failed to read this and wound up pouring bits of melted butter on it. Salt and pepper. Take fresh thyme, stick under breasts and strew on sheet. Smash some garlic, place on sheet. Take day old baguette, in my case bread that has been in the freezer heaven knows how long, strew on sheet. Cook for 1 hour, but since it was ½ a chicken, 45 minutes. At about 45 minutes the fire alarm went off. I need to clean my oven. I tested the temperature and it was above 165F near the bone.
OMG. It was good. The breast was juicy and tender, and the breast is one of my least favorite parts. The bread, the parts that weren’t burnt, were like huge flavorful croutons. Garlic, which I left in the skins, tasty too. Excellent!

Paralyzed by Quality

I’m trying to integrate more organic and locally grown food in my diet, with a slight hope that the more expensive the food the less of it I’ll eat, and the more weight I will keep off. This hasn’t worked so far as I am making lots of ice cream. Lots of local dairy, local eggs and local & organic fruit with organic sugar.
The problem I am now increasingly facing is meat. I’ve been buying locally grown or organic fruits and veggies and have no problem deciding what to do with them. I can eat them straight, put them in something healthy (or not so much), or let them become at one with the composter. But with meat, because of the expense I am sometimes paralyzed as to what to do with it. Considering a whole chicken I bought for $17, it took me a couple of weeks to decide what to do with it. I finally took it out of the freezer and cooked it, only after deciding what would be the best way to make the most of the bird. I was giving this bird more consideration than I had given any other chicken. I didn’t want to waste the bird on some unproven recipe, or drown it in sauces so I couldn’t taste it, and soup (tomato veggie) seemed to be unworthy. I finally decided on a chicken curry that was just lots of onions, salt, cinnamon and another spice. I had set aside the breast meat for my classic chicken marsala. It was good in the onion gravy and I could definitely taste the chicken.
Though I felt wasteful tossing the skin. I did save the wing tips for chicken stock. Also since buying the $17 local chickie, I had not bought any conventional chicken out of wanting to try to live more organically. But I do see myself buying conventional chicken to test out new recipes. Once tried and true it may be set aside for local chicken.
There is a piece of buffalo in the freezer waiting for me to figure out what to do with it.
I’m still going to buy conventional lamb, because I haven’t heard anything really bad about it. Yes, it has to get from down under to me in DC, but during its life it is feeding upon grass and apparently don’t take as much energy to raise and even when accounting for shipping uses less energy than local sheep farmers. Yet, beef and veal need to be local and grass fed, as well as goats.
The problem with buying higher quality and expensive food is I feel worse when I have to throw it out.

The Church and the Poor

I've been thinking about my grandfather, who died years before I was born. He was s poor sharecropper supporting a wife and 5 kids. And he was deacon of a small Baptist Church in BFE, NC.
It dawned on me that these small churches could be one of the few places where the poor are given a chance to fill roles of leadership and responsibility. The poor are not clients but participants and stewards.

Catholic Baptist

There was an article in the Post that I directed the Help to read. It was "Interfaith marriages are rising fast, but they're failing fast too." The article mainly says that couples of different religions have a higher divorce rate. The purpose of pointing out the article was to have a serious discussion and clarify earlier conversations regarding theology.
Not having been raised Catholic I don't believe I have the same attachment as one who was born into it. I love it, but when pondering children, I would be fine if my progeny became Baptists. I was raised Baptist and most of the family on my side, are Baptists. And on any given day I'm not too sure about infant baptism.
My feelings about infant baptism was something I pondered at Mass. Though I do enjoy mass and yearn to be in agreement with the Roman Church, in my heart the issue doesn't seem right. I am very aware of the biblical interpretations legitimizing infant baptism, but there is the issue of my heart. I had asked the Help to defend infant baptism. It was an unfair question considering his lack of Christian knowledge.

Catholic, Anglican, Baptist, Agnostic

Those are my choices.
The Help invited me to a bible study with some people from his church and I had a good time but a minor, very minor issue was the fact I was Catholic and everybody else was Presbyterian. At one point during the eating/meal part of the gathering one fellow was telling how his father led others to Christ and how the people of the town were not Christian. The people were Catholic and engaging in some odd little patron saint thing, which I guess was to illustrate their idolatry. I wasn't offended, as so much, I don't know. I decided to interpret it as the people being wrapped up in a cultural activity that had very little to do with the Gospels. The job of the saints is to point us to Christ, apparently this saint wasn't doing his job.
The more I think of it I know well in my heart I am not a Presbyterian, nor will I ever be. For one, I can only take the worship services in occasional bites. The sermons are too long to me. If you can't make your point in 10-20 minutes, you're droning. That's what drove me from the Baptist church. The sermons were long and at times didn't seem to have a point. They lost me. Thank G-d, literally, he manged to sweep me up into the crowd going to St. Augustine's Catholic Church in Gainesville, when I was on a mission to go to Burger King. It was either my freshmen or sophomore year (as I was still living in the dorms) and by that time, not going to church. When I was living with my parents, I kinda went to church, but I remember there was a point when I stopped going altogether. College, didn't go at all, until that weekend when I got swept into St. Augustines.
I did RCIA but didn't take the plunge. I was also checking out Grace Episcopal in G'ville. And come to think it is amazing I stuck with the Episcopal church then because my first encounter was with huggy hippies at the Episcopal student center across the street from campus. Ewww, hippies. My desire was to get the F*ck away from them when I saw their idea of the peace. I'm older now, now, I'd be firmer with extending my hand. Grace was cool. Grace was downtown, away from the campus. I liked them and got something out of it. I alternated between Catholic and Episcopal during my undergrad and my grad programs.
During my second grad program I didn't get to church often. I tried St. Andrew's in College Park, but didn't care for it, and didn't find it worth dealing with the metrobus in PG County nor the hills of Hyattsville to keep going. I tried to make it to St. George's in Virginia Sq, where I had been going prior to grad school, but Sunday's on a fractured green line, was a no go. So I really didn't go to church much those two years. I wasn't thinking much about theological issues much either.
After grad school I moved closer to a metro rail line. St. Andrew's was still uninteresting and I think, I'm not sure, returned to St. Georges. I can't remember when I returned to St. Georges. It might have been when I moved into DC, when going from the green to the orange lines on a Sunday morning was less a pain in the ass. But still a pain.
Somewhere in there I met up with Roland who then pointed me to the Church of the Really, Really Blond People and the Church of the Gay Lawyer (which upon last visit seemed to be getting more hetro). Though longer than I'd like, I did enjoy the CotGL, but the CotRRBP was a straight shot from the house on bike, had the best coffee hour, a kick-ass adult forum and a cool soup kitchen.
My appearances at Baptist churches pretty much came down to weddings, funerals, and instances where I had no choice (see, relatives). There are things about the Baptist Church that I enjoy, but my interest in the Lord, falls asleep, like the rest of me would if it weren't for dumb mind games I play to stay awake during the sermon. Sadly I found myself doing the same at the Help's church.
At Anglican/Episcopal and Roman Catholic churches I feel myself growing closer to G-d and I genuinely enjoy worship, even when the music is crap. At the black Baptist churches of my family, the music is good. If someone died, so is the food. The sermons are 'eh' and remind me why I left. At my grandmother's funeral (the mean one) I stayed interested in the sermon by picking out everything that was wrong. The pastor saying that she not saying one unkind word to anyone was the biggest lie. A kind lie, but a lie none the less. Note, she was the mean one.
And with the Baptist church I have all sorts of familial ties that make it a choice over any other protestant denomination outside of Anglicanism (and maybe the Lutheran church on a good day). My favorite uncle is the deacon of the baptist church where my grandfather served as deacon. My half-sister's husband is the pastor at some small baptist church in Florida. My father, just recently turning his life over to the Lord, serves on the men's choir and some church board at the baptist church where I was baptized. It is the same church that it seems many of our family has attended for decades (dare I say 100 years?). My mother serves on the usher board at another baptist church. Closer to here my aunts belong to a baptist church about 5 blocks from my home, and in helping one aunt with church activities, I've been dragged to that church and other baptist churches in DC ever since I was a teenager visiting. If it weren't for falling asleep and loosing interest, I might have remained a Baptist. If it weren't for the draw and the utter joy I feel in participating in the mass or the holy Eucharist in the RC and Anglican church I might have become an agnostic. But there is nothing (short of my struggling love of the Help) that would have drawn me to the Presbyterian Church.

Ponder a future option

I do ponder future scenarios. Not that in the current time I have the possiblity of following through. It's sort of like Plan S, to the Plans A-D I'm currently operating on.
I've been looking on-line at houses in the College Park vicinity. Particularly houses under $185K with decent sized lots with lots of sunshine (not too many trees). Why? Oh, pondering how could we live if by some chance we got married (no he hasn't asked, and I'm trying not to pressure, trying) and how could we go from DINK to OINK to OIO/TK. He being the 'O'.
Yes, I make more and the problem is not so much money as it is security. If we sold the DC house, took the equity we could buy a PG house and not have a mortgage, eliminating one financial stressor. With a PGCo house I could expand my gardening (and possible deer hunting) and supplement the food bill. But the thing is just one income stream makes me nervous. I've got 3 currently. My job, the room I rent out and the Florida house. Of course the Florida house is not a profit maker. I'll be lucky to break even each year considering someone's inablity to pay rent.
But I'm not on that plan. I'm still single. I still have to save up for the basement for the DC house. Plan A continues.

Imagining the good life- home

First, I like where I live. But is it a dream home? Nope. There are some aspects of it that annoy me at times. Like a wet cellar. Ah, homeownership.
One scenario I imagine is an English townhome. I now forget the name of my British host (Paul?) but his home was lovely with a conservatory overlooking the 'garden' which is british for "back yard". The conservatory was a sort of living room with a pitched glass ceiling and 2 glass walls. Not exactly a sun room. Less patio type furniture. More greenhouse meets library. A place to read and fall asleep and nap.
The dining room is not so much a separate room but a place off the kitchen, but not in the living room where you have the table. On the table is a bowl full of citrus fruit and other things that don't attract fruit flies. Oh, yes, the real world works in my imagined good life, because if it didn't I would not be able to obtain it. It would be pointless to imagine a world where the real world was not a part of it.
When I think of the boundaries of my land at the dream house, I wonder about maintenance and the practicality of such a thing. So if I am creating this dream and I have the chance for say a brick wall around the house I should ask myself now, if I should have a brick wall. Could I maintain a brick wall? Would the installation price undermine other projects by removing funding? I see country houses surrounded by bare land and a sad looking brick outcropping and I don't want that.
Rather, if I say had my step-grandfather's 30 some odd acres, the house would be near the road, the property line, lined with fruit trees, then grazing land for the odd cow, some goats and a few sheep. Closer to the house fences to keep out the herbivores, lined with bushes and briars. Inside that, a courtyard garden, filled with veggies and friuts. Near the garden door, a shotgun, 'cause is it deer huntin' if you kill a 4 legged interloper munching on your salads?
But back inside. There is a decent kitchen, with a stove that can work even if the power goes out. There is a generator. There is a library. There are guest rooms and a root cellar. More of that later.

Trying to imagine the good life

Quoting the lady Jewish farmer, I mentioned that the only way we can lead in helping the planet become 'greener' is to show that 'green' is the good life. So that is part of it. There are other bases that I integrate in when trying to imagine what the good life for me would look like. The reason to imagine the good life is so I have a vision to work towards.
Reading, that is part of the good life. I imagine sitting in a good comfy chair engrossed in a book. I have experienced that before. Sadly I have trouble replicating it. The book may be tiresome. The chair lacking proper back support. My arms get tired. I get distracted. But there was so great joy in getting lost in a book. I get lost in the web or on the Internet, but I am not left with the same feeling.
Good worship. There are some masses that kick assess. And they don't come along often. But then there are the ones with the hymns I love and take great joy in singing. There are homilies that stick with me long after I've returned home. Those great masses are rare and valued in my heart.
Naps. There is napping in the good life.
Gardening. There are fruits to be picked. Flowers to be dead headed in the good life.
Food. You know there is food. Good food in the good life, eaten with friends.
Walks and cycling, or hiking and biking. These are in the good life.
These things aren't all necessarily green. But they can be local and organic. I don't see reading has being terribly promoted by ad agencies as there are only so many books one can read and electronic games make you more money.

Poor Ms. Kagan and the right to be an asexual cat lady

I know as a conservative I'm supposed to be against her but so far her biggest fault is liberals like her and until we hear she has personally drop kicked babies over cliffs, she'll more than likely be the next Supreme Court justice. But I feel badly for her, as a single woman.
Here's the problem, you get older, it's a bit harder to make new close friends. You get set in your ways. You find a life that's comfortable, like a pair of old stained sweatpants, but this doesn't include another person. And because you aren't actively seeking someone else, particularly someone of the opposite sex, and if this continues for several years, decades, people assume you're not straight. Gawd, why is that!
Can't a person just not be single and happy?
If it were not for that idea that I'll credit G-d for putting in my head to approach the Help on our current path, I was sort of planning on spinsterhood. An enjoyable spinsterhood. Unfortunately, my 8 year period between boyfriends and about 3 or 4 years without going on a date during that period, I felt somewhat obligated to prove my heterosexuality by interjecting mention of ex-boyfriends in conversation. Not that in that period I didn't want a boyfriend or date, but the environment and the available persons just weren't suitable. My pursuit of men really didn't go beyond prayer and updating dating web profiles.
But now I'm in a relationship with the Help, long time friend turned boyfriend, with an eye (no date yet and stop asking) towards marriage. But the irritation (anger is too strong a word) came concerning the speculation of Ms. Kagan's sexual orientation because she's an unmarried squat woman with a short haircut. It reminded me of a conversation with others, men & women, who were in their late 30s, 40s (maybe 50s) about the problem of people thinking you were gay just because your dating life was dead, you were never married and had no kids.
I look forward to the day when I do get married. Mainly so I can form better relationships with associates who are lesbians, because I've kept a distance because I don't want to bother with defending my orientation to other people.

10 Rules for Dealing with the Police

WARNING- There is language that migth offend you. Yes, you. Yes, YOU. The one reading this. So no lip about how offended you were.

I'm still conflicted over this but it is very informative and the Flex Your Rights people are very right when they say if you don't flex your rights you're apt to loose them.

Movie Levels

See it in the Theater worthy- These are things where someone needs to win an Academy Award for Sound or CGI effects. I will pay over $8 bucks for this.

Netflix Worthy- Everything I didn't have to see in a theater. Stuff with a plot.

TV Movie worthy- Not even worth renting, but it's on TV, I'm home and got the time to see it. Stupid inane chick flix fit the bill.

Netflix on demand worthy- Not worth waiting for in the mail and grainy quality is acceptable. I don't care about the directors comments nor do I want to bother with extra features.

Stuck on an airplane worthy- I'm trapped. It's 2-8 hours before we land. I can try to go to sleep or put on my headphones and watch Elf.

"It just happened" prevention insurance

I'm trying to plan a summer vacation with the Help. And I've narrowed it down to two places on two different weekends both in Western Virginia. Not West Virginia but 'Western'. These places I'm trying to rent for the weekend are privately owned cottages and cabins in rural VA, surrounded by farmland or woods, one in the shadow of the mountains. Part of the deal is we need a chaperon.
I know what you're thinking, he and I are two educated adults, why would we need a chaperon. You know that phrase, "it just happened." A couple of friends of ours, also educated adults, one an MD, said 'it just happened' when explaining how they are getting their 1st child. A doctor. You'd think this person would have a great understanding of how human reproduction works. You may also be thinking, you and he are such committed Christians. Yup. Even though some people in some one's church might not think of me as a Christian, yup, we love Jesus and G-d and occasionally the Holy Spirit (kinda forget the Spirit at times). However, I still sin, fall from grace, wander into temptation, do dumb stuff. So thinking logically, and learning from mistakes of others, we need a chaperon.
So I started contacting folks who'd I think would make lovely travel companions. Jon, being one. Problem with Jon, there is a 50% chance he'll flake. Something will come up right before we leave. I'd put money on it. I'd bet it would be a family-friend emergency in the Midwest or wanting to catch up with work. So I emailed my cousin to be an alternate, should he flake. 50%, and that's being generous.

Plan B or C or Z-11

At the Holocaust Museum I had two co-workers who were supervisory and semi-supervisory who played little games that can best be called, "worst case scenario". It fell under the relm of imagine the exhibit area is packed and some kid throws up, what do you do? And then they go about talking out how they'd approach the problem, pitfalls in that strategy, etc. It would stay in their area of responsiblity and possible likihood.
Everyso often I play the game in my own head. I shared one scenario with the Help. I thought what would happen if I lost my job. Well I'd seek work for 6 months. After 6 months I'd put the house on the market and move my butt back to Florida, where the cost of living is cheaper. Oh, and where I own a house. I'd move in with my sister and take over my youngest niece's room. Either she'd move out into the living room or move in her sister's room, which I already know would cause many problems. But hey, it builds character.
In Florida I would re-learn how to drive a backhoe help daddy in his business. Or I'd try to get my old cashier's job back at the Winn-Dixie. Then figure out how to restart my career and spend a lot of time applying for everything at the University of Florida or SFCC (the community college in Gainesville).
The Help, asked why would I go back to Florida? Why not? I mentioned I would have the support of my family. He pointed out that I support them. Yes, but they (with the exception of my sister) aren't that dependent on what I've funneled to them.
Going back to Florida has always been the plan when I thought I would not cut it. I really like DC and I have a few relatives here, and it is the best area for my particular field. But if I'm going to be poor and broke anywhere I'd rather be poor and broke in Florida.

Parents & money

The last time I talked to the Great & All Powerful Mummy she’d had a rough night at work at the nursing home. On the night shift there are fewer people on staff, so she had more people to deal with and those people had bowel movement issues of the really stinky kind. So she was musing about quitting her part-time job and getting something in retail or switching to another nursing home. I asked her when she was going to retire. She’s of the age to do so. She said she had too many bills.
Now I would love to help my mother but there are several problems. One problem being my mother, the other, my father. My mother is much better with money than daddy, who is very good at making it, but is most excellent in blowing it leaving a ditch of debt behind. Mommy will go along to get along and will walk into the kind of debt that traps poor people. And middle class people. For example, I’ll be damned to figure out her mortgage rate. Seriously. We know how much she owes, but looking at the statements I can’t figure out the rate to save my life. I got two graduate degrees. Yes, neither of them in anything mathematical, but I know the company and they’re evil. They gave my my 1st credit card. I dropped them when I noticed I was getting charged 25% interest. And her credit cards and store cards slowly build up on odd purchases for herself or the girls.
Now the plan is no longer to buy my parent’s house and set it on fire. I seriously have to fix my basement. And so I am saving up money for that and that is in a two year plan, the ‘rent’s house is in a 4 year plan. Daddy, is thinking that I will get them a new house, he’s wrong. I’ve looked at my own goals and there is no money for that…. Unless the Florida housing market is still sucking mightily in 4 years. Though I will not be buying my parent’s house and setting the damned thing on fire, I do plan on cancelling out my mother’s mortgage, which is her largest monthly expense. With that gone she could possibly retire fully. My fear is that she or daddy will find some very legitimate reason to remortgage the house at a crappy interest rate (consolidate credit cards, fix the house, etc) and put themselves in the same mess. It’s her bills that keep her working, and she keeps adding to them little by little. A few months back she was pondering buying someone’s car from church and taking over the payments. I gently tried to tell her she didn’t need payments and would be better off fixing her ugly old hoopdie or that car my sister left in her yard for 2 years. Really, mom does not need a car note on top of her house note and all those high interest credit cards she has. Even if the note was just $100 that would be $100 more dollars she’d have to earn, and she’s not making enough now without a car note.
I will try to honor my mother and father, provided they don’t sabotage the plan to help them

Not going to throw fruit

Quick comment about the substitute priest. I don't want to throw fruit at his head. Actually this fellow was quite lively, he almost wandered in to Baptist preacher mode (style not length). I like him. Not like a past priestly sub who was gawdawful boring.
Other comments about today's mass. A song from the cantor, was tres 18th Century. I could easily imagine candle-lit rooms, white powered wigs and footmen standing in the dark corners. Another song was "On ward Christian Soldiers" but with changed lyrics, wussy lyrics about Christian fidelity. bletch.

And I will still like Chipotle

Last night I watched Food, Inc.
In the past two weeks I listened to Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food. About a month or so before that I watched Fast Food Nation. So, one would wonder if I haven't become a vegetarian or something. Nope, if G-d didn't want us to eat animals he wouldn't have made them so damned tasty.
The only problem I have in my thinking of food is in my reading of Leviticus. I like my sheep still baahing, but there is something about not eating blood. I'm ignoring that since I also eat bacon. Of course Leviticus has a bunch of other rules that I'm just going to tip-toe over.
Anyway, back to the food disturbing books and films.... I plan to watch King Corn a little later. Seeing the factory farm set up did bug me, but really got my goat was the stripping of people's first amendment rights with laws forbidding 'disparagement' of the cattle industry or chicken farming by individuals. And Monsanto's harassment of farmers forcing them to buy their seed and suing those who reuse their own seed just seemed like some form of evil I can't put into words. Makes me want to avoid all American soy products.
But what of my own eating? I cook a lot of my own food. I tend not to eat a lot of beef. I'm more of a chicken & lamb person. For certain cuts I will seek out Virginia lamb. Otherwise, I'm actually comfortable with Aussie or NZ imported lamb. Besides bacon, I don't eat a lot of pork. I eat a lot of chicken and that's where I need to change. I have been buying more non-medicated-non-hormonal chicken. I a going to try to move that to more local chicken. My eggs are from Maryland, bought at the locally owned bodega. My milk (when I don't buy a carton at work) is also local and organic. My rice is from Asia or California. I've been buying Gulf shrimp, forgoing asian farmed shrimp.
But the problem is when I eat out. Most of y'all know my tastes can be high end. I don't worry about their sources. But when I go down market, like Chipotle, I'll stick with my veggie burrito to stay safe.

Don't kill them

My sister got some Meyer Lemon trees today, that I ordered from a nursery in Florida. The note I sent with the trees were "Don't Kill Them." Hopefully the Meyers will sit somewhere in the front yard, where there is sun. Hopefully. And in 2 years, I pray they have lemons. And send them to me.
Why?
Meyer lemons seem to be horribly expensive. I paid $6 per pound for them at Dean & Deluca. I spent a good two days searching for them all over the city before finding them in Georgetown. I like the Meyers. Not like the regular lemons. Unfortunately, internet options seem to involve $20-$40 in shipping. Money, I rather give to my sister. Oh, if the tree is fruitful, somebody could be paying a month's rent with citrus.

Personal Goal #3 met

I hit this goal before, but fell off the wagon when I bought the Florida house. The goal was to have 4 months of living expenses. I had it then used it to buy the house and then took out a signature loan to pay for the repairs on it. Well I paid off that loan in less than a year, 8 months. In the past oh, 4 months my emergency fund has been yo-yoing up and down.
The pop-in renter helped throw some money in the coffers, but when he does leave I'm not going to seek a replacement. I need a break and I want the house to myself for a few months. Then I guess if someone doesn't hint to the future, I'll take on another short term roommate. Maybe. I make enough to not need a roommate to make ends meet. However, I do like the extra coupla thou a year 6 months of house sharing brings.
So now my current goal is to save up for the basement and rear of the house. I have a two year goal for that. The goal is to not take out a HELOC or a 2nd mortgage. But the back wall is the expensive part. The rear has a lot of structural issues... so does the basement.
I'm not seeing how I can save the desired amount even though I saved what I saved and paid off $7K in 8 months. But on another level I know I can do it, provided the dentist doesn't find any more of my damned teeth he wants to cap. F-ing caps at $900 a pop. Don't even get started with the gold vs not-gold cap price diffs.

Not something to be covered in a homily

Today and I gather tomorrow, the Catholic faithful in the diocese of Washington will go home with a three page letter from the Archbishop regarding the current scandal. I got such a letter. As I said its three pages, so I'm not going to repeat it. And the letter is pretty dense so, I'm not even going to try to summarize it. But I will say it is about child abuse and what the Church has done about it in the last ten years and some limitations.
Last week there seemed to be some odd expectation that the Pope was going to mention something about the sex scandal in the Easter Mass. Easter is all about Jesus. If half the world fell off the planet and Easter was the next Sunday, it might get a one sentence mention. Nor was such a thing mentioned at my own church for Easter vigil. Besides the homilies are very short, supposed to focus on the readings and the rest are pretty prescribed prayers. The RC mass is not like some other protestant church services where the pastor can go on and on and on about whatever topical subject happens to be his fancy. I couldn't tell you what today's homily was about because my mind wandered and by the time it wandered back the priest was done.
My own stance on this is not of any consequence. Right now my big negative of being Catholic is that the Help's church doesn't think I'm even Christian, which has caused some real problems for us. Also the RC Church doesn't have a monopoly on sexual misconduct, just a spotlight. When we all were Baptists my mother went to our pastor for help and guidance in dealing with her difficult marriage and he hit on her. We left that church for the one she attends to this day. The one where for a time the pastor was living in sin, after leaving his wife to shack up with another woman. Unlike the RC Church the congregation is supposed to boot the pastor, not some hierarchy, but sometimes, too many times they don't. But the Baptists are okay. The pastor that made overtures to my mom is retired and the adulterous pastor is supposed to be reconciling with his wife.

Gender equality and Christian t-shirts

I was bopping around on the web and wandered on to this website that had some pretty cool Christian themed tee-shirts with some awesome ska8er type graphics with words like "Forgiven" or "Risen" or some reference to Christ's sacrifice interwoven in the graphics, which covered the whole shirt or were off center. But that was just for guys. Their women's shirts were more bleech... girly on the topics of grace, purity, Chasity, and how great Christ is. Oh come on! Now it totally could have been because the market and the Invisible Hand directed the sellers and creators to make pink sweet n' innocent girly-girl shirts, which sucks if you aren't part of that market.

My Easter

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Originally uploaded by In Shaw

My Easter I followd my own personal tradition of staying home. Of course, I did join the Help's landlords' family for their traditional gathering after church.
I did two Easter Vigils. My own church clocked in at 1 hour 44 minutes, St. Pauls' less than 3 hours.
The Lord is Risen!

The Easter Plan

I plan to attend 2 Easter vigils and continue my tradition of avoiding going to church on Easter and Christmas. Why? It's MY tradition. Yes, it didn't start with the best of intentions but I've been doing it so long it has gotten a life of its own. Easter Sunday I will be enjoying Our Lady of the Holy Comforter or St. Mattress. I may try out 1st Futon A.M.E.
Saturday, if last year is anything like the previous year, the vigil will be early and short. Father is very aware of the crime in the neighborhood and said if he had Easter Vigil at the regular time, nobody would show up. I felt badly for the folks whose car window was smashed (smash & grab?) on service..... Also last year, service came with a beggar hitting people up for money, twice. Yeah, this is happening in the daylight.
After that's over I intend to wander over to the Church of the Gay Lawyer for their most EXCELLENT Easter Vigil. I'll probably write them a check too and wind up on their friggin mailing list. I'll need to arrive as early as I can, so hopefully I can time it right. If the Catholic vigil goes longer or the metro system traps me then I'll head back home because the CotGL fills up quickly. One time I had to stand the entire time because I arrived too late.

My important books

Sadly most are cookbooks

1. Curries without worries- For my faves of chicken curry, lamb curries, califlower & pea curry, and other good curries. The book needs to be copied for preservation.

2. How to Cook Everything- M. Bittman. For when I need a general idea of how to cook it.

3. Bistro Cooking. I had this book in grad school (History- UMASS). Never used it. After grad school (Library Science- UMCP) I discovered the lamb & garlic. Love the lamb & garlic.

4. Invention of Tradition. Eric Hobsbaum? As much as I love tradition.....

5. Bible- Please note this list is not in order of importance. No one version.

6. Book of Common Prayer.

7. Four Loves. CS Lewis. I like to review how I'm loving people (or not). I actually like reading this book, and refer back to it often.

8. Old House Journal (the book not the mag)- Renovation book, I got an old house. You figure.

9. Modern Archives Reader. Just for one article/chapter about not grandfathering in old records b/c the damned things managed to sit on the shelf untouched before you got there. Curses be to the earlier staff who took in all sorts of crap just to fill up their shelves. Now we have no space.

10. Frugual Gourmet Cooks with Wine- From here comes the chicken marsala and my standby pasta salad. This book s literally falling apart. I need to find another copy.

Dadetown

I'm posting this a reminder. I am hoping to one day see this indie film again but I can't find any hide nor hair of this 1995 mockumentary that I saw once with my ex-bf Jochen at a DC Indie Film Fest. Everyso often I look for this film but forget the name. Dadetown, dadetown, Dadetown! Takes place in upstate New York, about a dying factory town and the new yuppie business that relocates there.

Oppressed Methodists

Who knew.
Well I guess studying early modern British history I was supposed to know, but didn't care. I'm listening to an audiobook that I have the darnest trouble wrestling my mind away from, which I need to do when work or home requires all my mental skills and I have to get off auto-pilot. This audiobook is of Amazing Grace: William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas. Apparently Wilberforce's parents were very fearful of Methodist, which seems to have been too enthusiastic zeal for Jesus Christ and an annoying tendency to bring him into the world (seriously I have no idea what Methodists are about), tendencies. Through the biography of Wilberforce Methodism and Methodist tendencies tend to be this boogeyman that others worried about. It seems Methodists weren't too keen on theater.
The author seems to pit milquetoast Anglicanism against enthused Methodism, which this is my first of hearing of this. Now I know of limp Anglicanism, gad nothing new there and I am vaguely aware of Methodists in history. I have heard of the Wesley brothers, and I did take Religion in America in my undergrad days. However, I just figured them to be like any other Protestant group like Quakers or Baptists to have had the initial hardships then blended into the Christian landscape. Well maybe, depending on one's social class and ambitions. If you really wanted to get anywhere you must be CofE Anglican. And as far as I can tell and I am almost done with the book, Wilberforce, that servant of G-d, never left the Church of England, he just was a really enthusiastic happy moral faithful evangelistic Anglican.

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Lord Revive Us

I'm pretty down for reasons I don't like revealing. Since lunch I've had one song on continuous replay from 'In Sweetest Union Join', "Return Again," a scared harp/ shape note song.
The recording has these few lines:

Savior! visit thy plantation;
Grant us, Lord, a gracious rain!
All will come to desolation,
Unless thou return again:

Lord, revive us, Lord, revive us:
All our help must come from thee!

Keep no longer at a distance,
Shine upon us from on high!
Lest, for want of thine assistance,
Ev’ry plant should droop and die:

The rest, not included goes:

Surely once thy garden flourished:

Ev’ry part looked gay and green;
Then thy word our spirit nourished,
Happy seasons we have seen:

Lord, revive us, etc.

But a drought has since succeeded,
And a sad decline we see;
Lord, thy help is greatly needed,
Help can only come from thee:

Lord, revive us, etc.


Where are those we counted leaders,
Filled with zeal, and love, and truth?
Old professors, tall as cedars,
Bright examples of our youth!

Lord, revive us, etc.


Some in whom we once delighted,
We shall meet no more below:
Some, alas! we fear are blighted,
Scarce a single leaf they show:

Lord, revive us, etc.

Younger plants, the sight how pleasant!
Covered thick with blossoms stood;
But they cause us grief at present,
Frost has nipped them in the bud:

Lord, revive us, etc.

Dearest Savior, hasten hither,
Thou cans’t make them bloom again;
O, permit them not to wither,
Let not all our hopes be vain:

Lord, revive us, etc.


Let our mutual love be fervent,
Make us prevalent in prayer;
Let each one, esteemed thy servant,
Shun the world’s bewitching snares:

Lord, revive us, etc.

Break the tempter’s fatal pwoer,
Turn the stony heart to flesh;
And begin from this good hour
To revive thy work afresh:

Lord, revive us, Lord, revive us;
All our help must come from thee.

-John Newton

Entrepreneurial Fantasy

I want to open up a small cafe called "The Reading Room" where people eat quietly. Where single diners can come and be okay. I will serve good hot breads and soups and salads. There will be tea and simple coffees (black, cafe au lait, esspresso). The walls would be lined with reference books (language dictionaries, writing manuals, classic works of literature and non-fiction that getquoted often), and there will be several wi-fi signals so people can eat & quitely surf. Once a week or month there would be a speaker invited to come and talk about some issue on the upper floor.

Another thing- race

Okay I made fun of the Help for clapping like a white guy, and I guess that's the one racial thing mentioned in the last post. But there was another observation about the Grace PCA church I want to mention, it was comfortably diverse.
Though the church was predominately white (and under drinking age) it was not all white. I've been in all white churches or mostly white churches where I am the only visible minority or I can count people of color on one hand. Grace was roughly 10% non-white, with a fair number of interracial couples. Two of the children who were baptized that night were bi-racial, half Asian and half white.
Wallace (the Help's church) is fairly racially diverse too... and age diverse. A bit more so, with blacks, South Asians, East Asians, and Latinos dotting the chairs throughout the sanctuary. Racially, I'm at ease there. Liturgically, not so much.
Speaking of, I guess I can now say that I find Presbyterian sermons too damned long. About 2/3rd of the way through I'm thinking, 'wrap it up.' I appreciate the tradition in Anglican, Lutheran, and Catholic churches to keep the homily under 20 minutes.

I feel so OLD

Yesterday the Help and I went to check out a PCA church closer to the house Grace Church over in Chinatown. Now Grace doesn't have it's own building and thus is housed in the Mt. Calvary Baptist Church and has services at 5pm.

We arrived about 15-10 minutes before service to do that very American thing of "getting a good seat." I was venturing towards the left side when the Help suggested the balcony. So we went up and I noticed it was an old building with old building/ little money for 'historic maintenance problems. As the church was filling up we noticed something. The kids filling the pews looked about college aged. It was like we were attending some college lecture. I swear the average age of the congregation was about 25, only because there were a handful of senior citizens. If the old people stayed home, I'd say the average age was about 22. As part of that evening's service there was a baptism of one of the elder's kids. The elder couldn't be more than 35. The pastor was 45. At least there was someone older than us who wasn't retired.
Besides feeling like the cougar and the old guy in the club the church was quite nice.

Oh there was one odd thing. The greeting, or in some traditions, the peace. Now I'm accustomed to the shaking of hands and saying , "G-d's peace," and moving on to the next person. For about 2-3 minutes this church turns into a college meet and greet. I had shaken hands and turned to the people on the other side of me, when I noticed they were quite involved in introducing themselves and giving the "who am I " spiel. So I turned back to the set of people I had introduced myself to and they were carrying on a conversation about who they were and what brought them to DC, blah, blah, blah. I turned to the Help and remarked that, "this is different."

The music was good. Jazzy. There were a few traditional hymns and a few 20th/21st Century ones, with one "Jesus is my girlfriend" P&W song. The closing hymn "I'll fly away" was great and we clapped. It has been so long since I've clapped along in church, it was great. However, the Help started clapping. Unfortunately the Help claps like a white guy. I had to grab his hands and stop him. Later he confessed that he clasps like a white guy because he is a white guy. He also confessed that he wanted the balcony seat to see any balding heads.

iTunes U

Unfortunately work is slow and plodding and very uninspiring. It's just that I have a few things sitting on my desk that I've put off and ignored and there is no ignoring them. They must be done until something more interesting comes down the pike.
Anyway while that's going, I have almighty MP3 player and a few new sources of interesting lectures that almost make me miss college. Almost.
So far I am loving Seattle Pacific University. They have a bunch of old chapel lectures and speakers, as well class lectures. I've enjoyed the chapel speakers covering sex and cities (not those two subject together) from a Christian (with evangelistic notes) perspective. I've shared some the SPU and other lectures (from Reformed Theological Seminary) with the Help and sparked some discussion with him on related topics. The RTS lecture was on C.S. Lewis and the lecturer mentioned how in his old age he is comfortable with visiting the thoughts of Roman Catholic writers, but is secure in his Reformed outlook. The SPU lectures on sexuality, helped strengthen our resolve and appreciation for dialing way back the physical aspects of our relationship.
Unfortunately since the EcoTalk and Cato podcasts have had some dull (it happens) episodes I've had to get my libertarian economic ya yas somewhere else. The Mises Institute does have a lecture series that I've finished an enjoyed by Ralph Raico on the history of liberty. Now if only the Acton Institute would put a lecture series together of some of their stuff I'd be happy.
Goodness I'm spoiled.
Anyway, I keep looking for a class out there somewhere that covers Western historiography. I need a refresher. I've struggled with Open Univerity's German. I'll actually need to print out the related material, because mein Duetsch has gone to pot, and just listening isn't going to cut it.

Pink

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Originally uploaded by In Shaw

I have been informed my Mom, who is my manager that the front bedroom that is Rosa's has been painted pink.

Now, I own the blasted thing and I'm the last to know. I guess I could search in the lease to see if there is any language about painting the walls. Even then, what can I do? Not like I'm going to kick her out for paint. Besides there is no return to the projects, the powers that be are supposed to tear it down sometime in the future.

I'm enjoying the fact that the girls are enjoying a backyard and are playing in it and making neighborhood friends. That's almost worth the money, I've put into it. I do love hearing about how everyone is enjoying the space and what landscaping work Tito is doing. I do look forward to seeing them and the house next month. I want to see the yard. I want to see if anyone has fixed that hole. I want to see if my sister and her husband have let the kitchen go to pot. I want to see the front yard. I want to see the girls' room, even if one of them is the color of Pepto.

Valentine's day recap

For those who actually want to know.
I had told Jon that I was keeping my expectations low, as the Help admitted he didn't have a romantic bone in his body. Also the day before and day of I kept bugging, without response, the Help about what I should wear, because if we were going somewhere nice I wanted to dress the part. Day of, I find he hadn't reserved a table anywhere and just figured we'd go somewhere. *sigh. Because of the snow and the angry parking fights, I encouraged him to metro it over to my place.
He arrived a little late, 20 minutes past his ETA, which made me worried. When he did arrive he had in a plastic bag a pink teddy bear and a valentine's heart box. I eyed that with suspicion/ contempt. I am not a pink stuffed animal kind of girl. I was never a stuffed animal kind of girl. The box was a Russell Stover chocolate box, an inferior candy that I will eat if it's free and in the office and I don't feel like going out of the building for something better, like a Reeses Cup. And the box was falling apart.
I opened the box, no chocolate. Instead, the paper cups were filled with shallots and bubble gum. The kind of cheap .99 gum I love. I am addicted to bubble gum, especially the kind that gets hard quick and is nothing but sugar. The bear was just a container for brown rice. Yay. He knows me! He loves me!
Since my roommate was in and about and I really didn't have anything prepared we hopped on the metro to go back out to Maryland. We went to Tiffin, an Indian restaurant out in Langley Park that I used to go to when I worked and lived in Maryland. It wasn't full and we later stopped by the nearby former House of Spices (now some Halal market) to grab some black cardamon.
A good Valentines' Day.

Google made me cry

The ad is here, and like radio you develop the characters in your head, and the few sounds, the French gal's "hello" (or "halo?") and the cry of a baby just triggered something.

The South

I'm from the South.
And please don't tell me that Florida isn't the South. Maybe South Florida, isn't but the rest of Florida is.
Anyway, a pleasant catch-up with an old friend was almost ruined by poo-pooing the South. The old friend had re-located down south and was talking about how different it was. But what began to irritate me in that narrative was the insinuation that the South had some monopoly on racism. It doesn't, it just was manifested differently and it is more blatent and in your face. Northern racism is more subtle, harder to pin down and is slimer than an eel in that it allows the Northern racist to claim innocence. Martin Luther King had the darnest problem with Chicago, and Detroit, L.A., and Boston (think bussing in the 70s) aren't necessarily racial utopias where equality flows. And just because the area where one grew up didn't have any black, or Native American, or brown Latinos around to bother discriminating against, does not make one better than the Southerner who is being judged.
I also felt the need to speak out against the other form of white superiority, where the brown, native or whatever person is given the signal that he or she or his or her people are too incompetent to do anything and must be saved, rescued, placed in permanent dependence by the White man. Energy by the hero white is spent to focus on the goodness of the white and the pitiful plight of the brown, rather than truely enpowering the brown enough to help his/her ownself. Pity rather than commpassion.

Sermons and theologians

I believe Pat Robertson exists just to piss people off. I rarely listen to him, for about a zillion reasons. One being, his interpretation of the scriptures is way different from mine. Another, of the precious time on this planet I have, there are far more interesting and thoughtful ministers, pastors, theologians and religious writers than he, that I would rather spend time listening to and thinking about. The only time I encounter Robertson is when he has said, done, whatever to offend someone on the left. They drag him out as an example of Christianity, as if he were the American Pope of Protestants completely ignoring the diversity of American Christianity.
But anyway, in the past month or so, I've been listening to a new to me theologian and relistening to another theologian I quite enjoy. First is Ray Bakke a specialist on urban Christianity, who I find to be hard core on the idea of sacrifice, not of life (as in not dead) but lifestyle and comfort for the sake of bringing the Gospel to the inner city poor. The second is Os Guinness. I've very excited to find a new or old recording of his that I haven't heard before. He's got such a wonderful British (Irish) accent.
So throughout the day I will listen to a Lutheran sermon, a Catholic homily (maybe, depends on my mood), and an Eastern Orthodox writers' thoughts on Mary. It's mid-week so my listening options are fewer. Rest of the day is finance and only one of those guys mixes in a drop of Christianity. And almost none of them are fire and brimstoners. Sin, is not just something to make you feel bad but it something the separates us from the Father. We're all sinful and fall short of the glory. But good news, Jesus died for all mankind. That's the focus and not so much the sins of the secularists, or eternal damnation, or anything else we're accused obsessing about.

Pina Coladas and Presidental Speeches don't mix.

I made a drinking game of the State of the Union address. The drinking was to occur if he said the words, "let me be clear" or "fight" and when the Democrats gave a standing ovation. It was all the friggin standing oviations that did me in, and the fact he went past 10pm. I quit at about 10:10 as I had by then consumed a pina colada and a freshly squeezed greyhound. I have a two drink maximum.

Pray for Haiti

At church they took up a collection for Catholic Relief Services. I put in $2, not much, because I didn't bring the checkbook and I'd like to take it off on the taxes. Haiti is mainly Catholic and so it is fitting in with my philosophy of giving, which is if you were in Haiti before the quake, I'd probably give you money.
I gave to the Salvation Army, since it was the sad report from a Salvation Army dude that was one of the early reports out of the country. I sent $25 to them. I'll probably give more next week to Catholic Relief Services.
People are taking money everywhere for the relief effort. The coffee shop down the street, my hairdresser, everyone. I'm going to try to stick with the people who were in Haiti before the disaster so that when the spotlight leaves, I know they will still be there.

Avatar is no District 9

I like aliens.
For the most part I thought Avatar was okay. I knew the storyline was crap, stealing from 'Dances with Wolves' meets 'Pocohantas' meets a viewfinder. Storyline-wise District 9 kicked butt. It was original, it had mystery and was unpredictable. Oh and it was deep. I loved the comparisons between the Nigerian witchdoctor and the white scientists, neither knew what the F they were doing to the hero.
Unlike Avatar, the white guy becoming the alient wasn't the saviour. He was help. Chris, the alien trying to collect enough fuel to get back to the ship and get the heck out of there was the real hero. The South Afrikkaner white guy is just in the way, gets heroic and makes a nuisance of himself. No alien princesses to fall in love with. No superior white guy who will lead the Indians, opps I mean aliens to freedom.
Is Avatar racist? Racist in the way well meaning white folks who prop up a welfare state that undermines the Black family is racist. It is a different sort of racism that supports a white superiority, where the brown people are too stupid or childlike or whatever, and need the well meaning white leader to save them, typically from other white people.

Left & Right together

I keep a Wendell Berry poem at my desk with one particular line highlighted, "Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts." As far as I know Mr. Berry is on the Left politically, and a Christian.
I have also been obsessed with a neighbor's father, Raymond Bakke, from whose biography and lectures I have consumed started off Lutheran and became a Baptist minister. He also comes across as slightly politically liberal, in the demands of government money for the poor. But a lot of what he says about the urban church I agree with, for my own conservative reasons, such as programs and missions by the church should primarily be supported by the home church and not some outside entity.
There are hints that I do appriecate the political diversity of the Roman Catholic Church, though it is not all sunshine and roses. I find that the office of the Pope and the heiracrchy helpful in that the Church is not too apt to sway with the secular or other short term trends. So our sisters and brothers on the left do share communion with us and let their grievances be known, with out endangering the body of the Church. Unlike say, Protestant branches that break off and split, some easily, some with great and long pain and suffering, along secular party lines. There is a liberal strain of Catholic thought, pro-union and anti-loan (with calls to forgive national debit of 3rd world nations), that I don't agree with, but I see how a very liberal interpretation of the gospels can lead you that way.
Listening to some left leaning Christians, I do look for the centrality of Christ, and when finding him there, I'm set at ease and willing to hear the rest. Unfortnately, I've heard too many for whom the secular politics are a greater saviour. It is Christ who binds us, and as long as he is central left and right may come together.

PCA vs everyone else

Once again my beloved is getting circular again in worrying about the fact that I'm now catholic and he's presbyrterian, specifically PCA. He really focuses in on the Roman Catholic part, however I think we'd still have the same problem if I were still Episcopalian. I'm trying to be all Alfred Newmanish about it, "What me worry?" and all, and let him do all the fretting. The 'why' of all the different demonimations also confuses and flusters him. I, say no big deal. Mainly because I refuse to drive myself crazy about it. Hey, my parents are Baptist and just as much loved by G-d. He's bothered by the differences in our faith practices and the differences between the PCA and the PCUSA. I think his mom is PCUSA.
Protestant demonimations can break off into various little bits. I figure that's the nature of em. We had a talk about the PCA and how strict- orthodox- [insert preferred adjective here] it is.
I couldn't help to think of this joke:

I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump. I ran over and said: "Stop. Don't do it."
"Why shouldn't I?" he asked.
"Well, there's so much to live for!"
"Like what?"
"Are you religious?"
He said: "Yes."
I said: "Me too. Are you Christian or Buddhist?"
"Christian."
"Me too. Are you Catholic or Protestant?"
"Protestant."
"Me too. Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?"
"Baptist."
"Wow. Me too. Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?"
"Baptist Church of God."
"Me too. Are you original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?"
"Reformed Baptist Church of God."
"Me too. Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915?"
He said: "Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915."
I said: "Die, heretic scum," and pushed him off.

Cut the joke down a bit, and exchange Baptist Church of God for PCA and Baptist Church of the Lord for PCUSA, and have the PCUSA as the jumper and you can have a similar joke, in my eyes.
But my love's concerns are serious, and he needs answers. He has his fears and worries, which might not be so if he was raised actively in a church.

Being a responsible adult sucks

Okay. My cousin and I threw out an idea to go to NYC. Now I looked at hotel prices and figure we'll hop on the cheap Chinese bus. I'm willing to throw down a few hundred for a good hotel room. I've done too many cheap stays, hostels, primative accomodations in London and Prague to bother with cheap NYC stays.
Then there is the other issue. I'm supposed to be paying off the stupid loan that I took out for my sister's house (legally my house). Goal- pay off in one year.
Oh other goal- pay for Florida trip in March. Desire- Stay at the resort we stayed at last time, which I'm determined to get a two bedroom costing $500 for the stay and plane tickets. I expect others to feed me and feed me well.
So a NYC trip may cost $500, a FL trip that may cost $700 and $4K that still needs paying off. The adult says hold off the trips till the loan is paid and save up for a possible event that may hopefully come. The irresponsible adult sayz throw it all on the Mastercard and get tickets to Wicked.

Proverbs 31 1-8

1 The sayings of King Lemuel—an oracle [a] his mother taught him:

2 "O my son, O son of my womb, O son of my vows,

3 do not spend your strength on women, your vigor on those who ruin kings.

4 "It is not for kings, O Lemuel— not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer,

5 lest they drink and forget what the law decrees, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights.

6 Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish;

7 let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.

8 "Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.

Typically when Proverbs 31 is mentioned there is the later part about a virtuous woman. I'll look at that later, but there is my favorite part before that, which I have highlighted.... Wooo Hooo!
Reading this in a meritocracy and democracy is hard. For one, no kings. Presidents, prime ministers, and random local politicians who make their jurisdictions like little fiefdoms yes. So, this is saying our leaders should be teetotalers? Sober, maybe, in the idea that the leaders shouldn't be oppressive. However, the drink of spirits isn't a problem it is the intoxicating drink of power that is oppressive.
Now for the completely non-Baptist part, "Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish," or "Give strong drink to the one who is perishing,
and wine to those in bitter distress." Now I do like and disagree with this. Like for the pro-drinking part, disagree because the ones in anguish need to rise up and fight. In the meritocracy the poor, the anguished need to be sober as well in order to move from their state of poverty. But the perishing.... yeah, get them the good bottle of booze.
Lastly, though this gets close to something I'd like to avoid writing about. Rights and oppression are seen in terms of poverty and destitution. I'm going to leave it at that.

Knowledge in dreams

I have searched for and I can't find any record of me possibly writing down a dream I had, which looking back was premonition. But I didn't write it down so it probably didn't happen. The 'dream' was that I was dating the Help, however at the time the Help was engaged to someone else. So the very thought of them not being together and me being some kind of home-wrecker would have been disturbing. However the dream me did not know the future me started dating about a year after the Help's breakup.
I noticed that in dreams I or whomever the first person is, has knowledge, skills and abilities at the dreamer doesn't have. Like a past me observing a future me would be absolutely amazed at my ability to type. Seriously, I was in HS typing class and was crap and couldn't imagine the day were I didn't look at the keyboard. Now, I look down every 5-10th word, just to make sure my fingers are in the right spot. But I guess that reflects the person as a dynamic being. But it isn't just head knowledge it is also muscle memory which ties into that idea of the body and soul being one.

I've become that woman

When I was a snarky teen, I and my friend Tracy made fun of those women in our differing churches, who overcome with emotion would sway and carry on in church. stand jump all that stuff associated with gettin caught up with the holy spirit. Well that crossed my mind in church as the cantor went into the second part of his negro spiritual melody. I can't really remember what the earlier part of the melody was, but the second part was "I don't feel no ways tired" (hear on YouTube if unfamiliar). And something began to well up inside of me. I wanted to sway, stand and just open myself up to the song and G-d's grace or whatever, I can't really explain it. Tears of joy did make it to the corners of my eyes and I did clap loudly at one point. The teens behind me, who hadn't really sat quiet snickered at my outburst.
So it has come full circle, I have been the teen, now I am that woman.

...and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others

I just said the following before chowing down on my lunch, which is sage chicken and brown rice. "Lord, please bless these gift for our use, and us to thy service and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others." It has just occurred to me that the last part just doesn't apply to the starving poor of the world. Because it is said prior to eating, those are the first people coming to mind.
Though the poor and hungry get first dibs, but there are others out there who are in need. Emotional need. The poor in spirit. Those in need of forgiveness. Those who need love. Those who need Jesus, but for some reason or another fail to see him in their lives.
Also if you don't bump up against the poor daily, who are the others? Our co-workers and neighbors are in need of charity. My definition of charity is loving the difficult to love. Some people need our patience. Particularly when you want to slap 'em. Some people need forgiveness, particularly when they are crabby and say mean things.

Entrepreneurial Me

For one who works for Big Brother, I mean Uncle Sam, I must acknowledge my entrepreneurial streak. It's there, but it doesn't play a obvious role. However in my dating of The Help (MH), I'm becoming more aware of it. Early on I told him that he was so occupying my thoughts I was thinking of charging him rent. Amazingly he didn't run screaming from me. Last night I told him of my middle school antics of where I was a gum dealer. Not only did I LOVE gum, I sold it to my classmates against school rules. I bought gumballs around the corner for about .03 or .05 cents then, resold them to classmates for about .10.
With my home I rent out my extra bedroom and sleep in the smallest room. Heck if the cellar wasn't so frickin cold and creepy and damp, I'd camp out down there and rent out my room. I see an empty bedroom and I see money that can be made.
I see my front yard and I see produce that can be bartered, and I do barter.
I walk down the street and sometimes I see money, literal, actual money.
Then there is the housing mojo, which I have discovered can be used for other people. With the house it is more of a discount than a money falling out of the sky thing. For the longest while I had a 3.75% mortgage. Fixed. Also got the house before the market went crazy. And my annual real estate taxes are crazy low. PB2G.
America, land of opportunity, if your actually looking for it.

London- 2004

2004LLX
Originally uploaded by In Shaw

I am just liking this old pix of The Help. He had more hair then....
Anyway, we traveled to London because the previous year I went to the London Lindy Exchange alone, and it was very follow heavy and said 'screw this I'm bringing my own damned lead.' And I did. We went to London, danced, walked around. He did his thing (got interviewed by another radio geek at the BBC), I did mine, and we met up for dinner to recount the day. It was a very enjoyable trip.

Craigslist once again damages my faith in humanity

I have a chair. I want to give it away. It is a nice chair but, I haven't used it much. It fails to roll on carpet and the rollers damage wood floors so it sat in the basement.
Now were it not for the friendly neighborhood drug dealers I would have put it on the sidewalk with a nice "FREE" sign. Drug dealers like chairs. Especially nice cushioned chairs with wood detailing and wheels. So the sign option was out. I couldn't figure out pictures and Freecycle so Craigslist.
I don't know why I keep doing this. Maybe because it is less worse than trying to find a roommate, but Craigslist puts me in contact with the flakes of the world. But before I go on I must admit I committed a Craigslist sin and I blame my contractor. I wanted insulation. I wanted my contractor to pick it up. My contractor wanted nothing to do with it and told the listee (as far as I know) it wasn't worth it. I felt bad because of all the back and forth.
Anyway, guy emails me, says his friend wants my chair, I call him, leave a message, his friend calls me. The friend and I settle on a something that diverges from my post because I actually put a pick up window. After work, before I go to bed, is the window. Didn't work for friend. So I agree to leave it outside for a time, cover it up, blah. Next morning chair still in yard. So I go to the next person who emailed me about the chair, offer it to him. I'll know later this evening if he's another no show. If he is, I'll contact the next person. I get a call from the no-show friend, who wanted to go into an explanation that pretty much insulted my neighborhood.
Jimmney Christmas, if you don't want to be wandering in the hood in the AM then don't set up a pick up time in the f*ing AM. I want to take my fellow humans at their word. If you say you want to buy my laurel bay for $45 and you live "round the corner" then you better fraking return my fraking phone call and pick up the plant with money in hand. Do not call me a week later offering $35. No. I'll keep my gods dang plant. (Guess who was up all night watching BSG?) And same goes for the heart pine wood. Either you want it or you don't. Don't jerk me around saying you're going to come, ask me to stick around the house for a window of time that resembles what I've got to deal with from the pest control dude. Somethings aren't worth the $10 I'm asking for.

Not Even Halloween Yet

...and I'm seeing mention of Christmas.
Seriously.
Will the people in charge of the civil, secular xmas please for the love of your unknown god zip it till Thanksgiving.

Body & Spirit

I pondered this idea with MH, hereafter to be referred to as "The Help" mainly because I've called him my driver and recently he's done some janitorial work around the house. I was thinking that the mind, spirit, soul whatever is too closely linked with the body and it's chemistry to be separate. You have a lobotomy, you change. You're not the same person.
I go back to sci-fi and how it leaves out the things that make us "US" that are related to hormones, brain chemistry, medication (or lack thereof), and low level pain from parts of the body that make us grumpy. In Freaky Friday, mom gets transferred into daughter. But what of the adolescent brain development and raging hormones? Or when the angry woman gets transferred into Capt. James T. Kirk and he gets all effeminate, why? Did a shot of estrogen come along for the ride? Then there is the brain software transferred into computers, robots, etc, which lack the signals (most of the time) to tell us that our big toe itches, french toast would hit the spot, it's that time of the month, we're tired, that music is loud, So-N-So is coming and she got on my last nerve, etc. In that way wouldn't the electrical transfer be something akin to transferring a Mac program to at PC or a Palm pilot?
Why does any of this matter? Well it does relate to the "resurrection of the dead" part in belief. We need this body to raise up, because so much of who we are, what temptations we struggle with (crosses to bear), is tied up in the physical form.

Tag 'em and bag 'em

When I was last in Florida I got in touch with the side of the family that distrusted the white man in the form of government that wants to take away your children, your right to protect yourself (from the angry mobs of white men with guns to take away your guns), and who wants to microchip you like some odd whale that needs to be tracked. This is in opposition to the side of the family that trusts government but believes in the white man's continual oppression of the black man. One side bureaucrats working for local and federal government, the other side self employed a-holes. Me, I work for the government but I side with the a-holes, because the government can take away your children, property, and your life.
Whilst gettin' my hair did by my cousin with the salon, in a shop he patched together and sold U of Miami clothing and worthless handbags, I got questioned about microchipping. Then this got into a conversation about walking around without ID. I try not to go to far without my ID. Only because I want to prove I have insurance and not be mistaken for a crackhead and have the EMS take their sweet time. Apparently it is the norm for the family to wander the street sans drivers license or wallet and if they are pulled over give their SS#. It seems the cops can just pull up their info and picture with that number and that's good enough. They bristle and the idea of being required to leave the house with ID.
The distrust on their part is the idea that the white man in the form of the government wants to track and control their movements and restrict their freedoms to be independent and free men. For if the government can tell you how to parent, where to live, what kind of job to have, and how to do that job, you are not free.

Get a 2nd opinion

In today's Washington Post:

She was dumped by a boyfriend who no longer wished to follow her around the world. She found herself heartbroken and sick and finally went to a doctor who said he had news -- at 39, she was with child. Impossible, she replied: Throughout her previous 17-year marriage she tried repeatedly to get pregnant, but was told it could never happen because of fibroids and various other conditions. Besides, her then-lover had told her he'd had a vasectomy, she says.
But she was pregnant. The doctors urged her to abort, she says, because she wouldn't be able to carry to term. Then, Graves says, she was told the child had Down syndrome.
But in 2004 she delivered a healthy baby girl -- "and she's perfect."

Graves being opera singer Denyce Graves. Her wedding pix & story is splashed all over the Style section.
Gad, that or those doctors should be held responsible, as in malpractice suit responsible, not criminal court responsible for misdianosing the child, known as Ella as having Downs. Being in one's late 30s and wanting kids being told to abort someone who you might actually want to have around is fightin words.
This made me think of something a doctor told my sister about Alex, that she was going to have a club foot. Well maybe the pre-natal pixs were too grainy (seriously how do you make anything out in those things?) but she had decent feet.
Then there are the small errors one hears, oh actually that wasn't a girl it's a boy repaint the room thing. Anyway this make me wonder about the level of accurracy in pre-natal diagnosis. There is some accurracy but how often do docs get it wrong or are they being over cautious?

Thoughts on Children, other people's

One of the hard things, among a thousand other things, of living in the city is seeing a scene that I've seen several times before and saddens me. About a week ago I heard a woman on the escalator cursing a blue streak. The words, "damned" "ass" and possibly MF were used. It was harsh language. I didn't see her until the escalator brought her halfway up and I noticed the object of her curses, impatience and annoyance was a child no more than 3 years old. She's not the first mother I've heard curse viciously with nasty blue language in the hood.
I've just finished reading another blog's comments where the majority's sentiment could be boiled down to some people shouldn't have children and there should be some screening process to keep any old body from being a parent. Well considering what criteria people would put up then I guess in that world I wouldn't have the most amazing nieces and nephew. Because seriously, what panel in their right mind would allow my sister to reproduce? She's not the sharpest knife in the drawer and one of the biological fathers of the kids was in prison. She isn't monied. She's very likely to remain low-income. But despite her parenting skills, she's got some great kids.
She isn't the only person with some influence in how the kids are raised. There is their grandma, their step-father, their uncle & aunt (in the case of the nephew), and a gaggle of intrusive other family members. We step in and sometimes take over where she fails. With the exception of my nephew's adoption my my uncle & aunt, there is nothing formal. None of what happened was predicted at the time of their arrival. Who knew she was going to get married? Who knew I was going to buy them a house? Who knew that the nephew would charm another set of relatives so much they would keep him? Who knew? Nobody, 'cept G-d. And maybe that's why we need to leave a lot to him and not some eugenics board.

Just be yourself

BL and I were noting this thing talking over glasses of prosecco about high school vs college. "Just be yourself." You have heard it a million times before and when you were younger you didn't believe it. But older, I'm so thankful that I do believe it and am begining to practice that.
Oh the time wasted trying to be someone else! Trying to impress people with a false front. And then there is the mental anguish of it all. Not that being yourself doen't have it's own problems when 'you' clash with someone else. But at least you're fighting and defending and sometimes sacrificing what is true.
I look forward to that day when in my older age when I don't give a rip what others think of me. Of course I'll have to reign myself in as there is the person I strive to be, for the sake of my own happiness and rightness with G-d, and the misirable wretch that I am. But that struggling person is the person I am.

It's a bug AND a feature

Chatting with the Mikey about some of my characteristics, one being stubborn independence. I proclaimed it was a bug and a feature. Depending on the situation it can be stupid or admirable. Not asking for help/blowing off offers of help, insisting on carrying my own luggage up the stairs, ignoring other's advice and doing my own thing, etc.
Yes, wonderful things happen when help is offered and received, however, I'm impatient and if I want something done (not exactly done right), I'll do it myself.

Meana

Meana- Short for "Mean Angry Baby". Well Meana isn't a baby or a toddler any more. She's in Pre-K and was willing to give me a hug when I was leaving. Which is a great improvement over last time.
Unlike her siblings she won't easily crack a smile. She isn't always looking for a hug and if she doesn't know you then **** you. According to her tattle-tale older sister, Meana has said some bad words.
Sitting out on the stoop on a Friday night where Meana lives, I observed the happenings of the subsized housing. People playing rated R and NC-17 music (seriously listen to the lyrics, F bombs a droppin'), cursing, drinking and carrying on while a gang of 4 year olds (led by Meana) run around at the edge of a parking lot. I asked her father if the place was like that normally (being a Friday night I expect activity), yup, this could be Wednesday too.
So it will be interesting to see if Meana finds another gang in her new local and if I think she'll still hold up a liquor store. The new location isn't low crime as I think the house experienced some vandalism. Most people I've expressed concern to about this suppose it was just bored teens or a disgruntled former occupant. Anyway, it is quiet over there with a big yard, so the girls should be able to entertain each other.

Healthcare

Somewhere in my house is a National Insurance Numbercard from when I worked in London in the 90s. I can't remember if I had any payroll taxes taken out by the British government. I was more concerned about Uncle Sam getting his cut, and even though I was making money overseas, Uncle Sam got his f'in cut. Anyway, it was one of several things I had to do to get legal. Register with the local police station, get an NHS card. I didn't use the system, though it was in London I got pneumonia, it was in the US where I got treated. No insurance. I saw the family doctor, he gave me some free meds, paid $50, that's it.
I wish I did save check stubs from that period to see.
With the whole debate about health going on, I do think there should be some reform, of what, is another matter. Being conservative I'm pretty much concerned about another entitlement program. I don't believe that only families making above $250K will be the only ones paying for it. I'm paying for Medicare now. Comes out of the paycheck every pay period. Who knows if the friggin baby boomers will have broken and bankrupted it by the time I age into it. Same thing with social security. They're edging up the retirement age. Good thing I like my job. I'm paying for that too. Damned hippies will have broken it when I get to that age. All the while, I'll be paying for their medical marijuana. Thank goodness for IRAs, TSPs, and 401ks. Face it, we weren't supposed to live that long. We were to drink and smoke ourselves to death. Eat rich foods, get fat, die of a heart attack. Now I get to live longer so I can work longer.
Pass the butter.

That's some Gaydar

On the season premier of Mad Men, Sal and our favorite man-whore, Don Draper, check into a Baltimore hotel. The man-whore, beds some flightly stewardess, not even trying to be good or faithful to his wife, as expected. Don is very disappointing, but interesting. Sal on the other hand goes to his room alone, complains to the desk that his rooms AC is on the fritz and has a bell hop come and fool around with the dial.
I was disappointed in Sal in Season 2, when it showed he got married to a woman. Why he had to drag some poor woman into is deep closet? Deep, deep closet. He could have stayed single like the Belle Joli rep who hit on him, but alas, no. Misery loves company.
Anyway, the bell hop 'fixes' the AC and we see a close up of Sal's money clip as he flips through 10s and 5s and 1s. My thoughts on this scene were A- RUN SAL YOU GONNA GET ROBBED, it's Baltimore! B- Wow that's some old looking money. C- Ah come on, he fixed your AC give the man a 5.... how much is a 5 in 1964 dollars? And then the bell hop gets into his personal space, and plants a big ole kiss on him. Dang, that is some gaydar.
I'm not going to describe what happens afterwards but let's say it gets far enough that Sal has to adjust his clothes when the fire alarm goes off and he's caught by Don, experienced man-whore, as he and the stewardess go down the fire escape.
Later on the flight back poor Sal looks like "OMG, OMG, you're gonna out me and ruin my life, I'm going to have to live in a box and never wear french cuffs again! Waaah" when Don leans over to talk about the London Fog account. The key phrase of that conversation is "limit your exposure." Advice from one man-whore to I guess another.
Is there anythign morally redeeming about the show? So far not really. But I don't watch it for the morals. I watch it for the deep rich flawed and broken characters, the bright shiny and modern 60s of Dick Van Dyke, all the drinking adn interesting paranting styles. 2 bonus points if your 8 year old can mix drinks.

Argh my parents

About 10 years ago my parents divorced after 30 years of marriage. Then about a year ago they started dating each other. They never solved the property issue of daddy's name on the house and the lot. So now daddy is parking his heavy equipment on the lot and sort of reclaiming "part" of the life he walked out on. I say part because I know what or who in the next town over is keeping those two from restarting. And it isn't entirely her fault, so it's hard to be mad at her. So I'm annoyed at him.
Anyway, dad took mom out to dinner and breakfast last week. I have no idea what the hell those two are up to. So when I think of them, I say I'm happy they are hanging out and forming some sort of relationship, but it ends with me exclaiming "argh!"

The big question

Well I asked a question.
I got the answer I expected.
And the answer I was not expecting.

A special place in Hell

People want Hell.
Not for themselves, or for really nice people who don't believe in a triune G-d. No. Hell is for the people they hate. People who do bad things. Corrupt officials, the guy who cuts you off and gets away with it, jackasses. Hell. People want Hell for those people. If there is a god, his grace would be denied to those wrong doers, or he'd judge them to Hell, or somehow they'd get there without a G-d.
I'm willing to entertain the idea, I heard from my liberal priest (back when going to St. Georges) supposed that G-d's grace is extended to all, and he can save all, and even the worst of us can be welcomed into Heaven by G-d's grace. However, I don't believe there is no one in Hell. I do believe in the human ability to be stubborn into eternity and would deny that he is Lord or reject his love and doom themselves to Hell. Or a Hell.
I have various views of Heaven and Hell. If Heaven is an eternal Mass, or worshipfest of G-d, that would be Hell to someone. The idea of hanging out with Jesus and singing his praises sounds alright to me (I worry about bad worship music, yes, even in Heaven, Praise and Worship Pop music could sneak in).

Mikey's Church

Wallace Pres.
Originally uploaded by In Shaw

Well they've move out of the public high school auditorium and finally have a working church.
The worship space is multifunctional it seems as you can move the chairs around. There are no pews.
The good points, it's a shiny building with a screaming baby room. Every church needs a screamy baby room. May many churches be blest with screamy babies.