the sigh of god

Night. All is dark. All is peaceful. I live for these moments. Time stands still.

I sit. I listen to the wind make continuously original music with the leaves. The crickets provide rhythm. Somewhere in the distance I hear a couple walking, conversing, enjoying the brisk autumn night. And now they are gone, all is silent again, and I'’m once again alone with my thoughts, the crickets, the light breeze, and the grasshoppers.

I’'m sitting on the front porch of our new house-house, enjoying a few jiggers of whiskey, and thinking about life. I enjoy these moments; I tell myself to hold onto them. But they inevitably pass, and my memory forgets the peace in silence. But silence is never silent; witness the crickets, the wind, the grasshoppers, the roar of a city too distant to see, its energy close enough to feel.

In moments like these I am convinced God is in everything. I take seriously my belief in God the creator (even if I also think evolution is a plausible scientific theory). God creates, God breathes life into the world, and a piece of God lives in everything. Maybe the crickets, providing me company on this brisk night, are the voice of God. Or maybe the wind, when it momentarily gusts through the trees, is a sigh of God. But why would God be sighing? Is God tired?

I write to remember. Weeks from now, I will have forgotten this moment of peace. But I will then read these words, simple as they may be, and I will remember, and I will seek peace again.

The night protects many secrets, blown away and held in silence by the wind, originating from an unknown place and destined for a destiny of hiding. The daytime wind annoys me, with its disturbance, it'’s vengeance, it'’s enmity. The nighttime breeze is different. It doesn't seem quite as sharp, as piercing. It doesn'’t feel as mean. And the light breeze after dark carries my secrets away to wait for their rebirth, in that instant when I remember the feeling I felt so many years ago; that instant when the nighttime wind rushes through my thoughts, and for an instant I remember the embrace of peace.

I just shuttered. It's getting cold. Summer must be yielding to the inevitable ebb of the season.

sunday school revisited, part 2

For the first in this series, click here.
For the second in this series, click here.

suburbia, part 2

Things I like about the suburbs:

1. The drive through at Dunn Bros.
   
2. County Market. It ain't Whole Foods, but they have sometime more important than bountiful fresh fish and organic lamb. County Market has shopping carts with little tike cars attached to the front. For those of you with kids under the age of 5, you know why this is important.
   
3. Crickets singing outside my window when I fall asleep.
4. Most of my neighbors also have young children.
5. Liquor stores are open on Sunday.
6. The local YMCA.
7. I can leave my curtains open at night without fearing someone will walk by and peak in.
8. No longer have to worry about snow emergency routes

For all those suburbanites reading: what are your favorites?

suburbia

Life threw me another curveball.

We moved to the suburbs. I'm not proud. My wallet isn't proud either. Driving 28 miles to work isn't so cool when gas is $6.24 a gallon.

We've been living in the new shack for a little more than a month. Elaine asks me the same question when she wakes up every morning - "do we really live here?" Then she smiles because it's too good to be true. And I smile too.

We never thought we'd be living in what Elaine calls a "house-house," meaning a dwelling unit not attached to another dwelling unit. We live in the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro area. Like most everywhere else (except for Raleigh, NC-up yours, Josh), housing prices are quickly bounding into the unaffordable. Elaine and I have one child, Ana (regular readers of this blog know this point well). We have another child growing in the belly of my wife. We call the new kid "buster" for now, since we declined knowledge regarding the baby's gender.

Anyway, back to the house-house. Because we are having another child, we deemed it necessary to look for a bigger residence. This is a point a struggled with a bit. I've been to Mexico. A 2 bedroom apartment is big enough for 2 kids and their parents. We Americans are spoiled. Our definition of "need" tends to be dramatically different than other countries of the world. We "need" 451 T.V. channels, but many people on this earth simply need a bite to eat.

I'm not sure how to resolve this tension. So I usually choose to forget about it. Call me a coward. I probably am.

Back to the story of our new house. We walked through several small townhomes and older homes with a lot of "character." Then America happened. Someone's job was transferred to California. This certain someone had just recently built a house near St Paul, and decided the best way to sell it fast and head to 49er country would be to lower the price 20%. We got lucky. And now both of us are happy to be living in a residence which our children can call home. There's even a yard where they can play outside.

We bought a house-house. And I live in the suburbs. Maybe Elaine and I can retire in a swanky loft downtown. Or maybe someday life will throw us another curveball; we'll sell everything and move to an orphanage in Mexico.

In the meantime, I look forward to soccer games, SUV's (not mine - i want a hybrid), and stuffy neighbors. Of course, I've already met my neighbors, and *most* of them aren't stuffy, I've only seen 3 SUV's on the block, and...well, I don't know about soccer yet. And speaking of Mexico - wouldn't you know it - my next door neighbor is Mexican.

I like curveballs.

some final reflections on katrina

1) 'Refugee' is now a racist word.
Give me a break. For the record, I'm one of those crazy liberal wackos that things there is still a lot of racism in America. As a white male, I rely on the opinions of ny non-white friends and family. If they say there's still plenty of racism, I'll take their word for it. They'd know better than I would. I'm even crazy enough to not immediately write off the suggestion that the delayed response to rescuing hurricane survivors may have had an element of racism to it. But when people start suggesting 'refugee' is racist - I just can't bring myself to believe it.

2) My fellow Democrats were much too quick to use this as an excuse lambast President Bush.
People are still without homes, food, water, jobs. Dead bodies are still floating around New Orleans. There will be a time to sling mud at each other, and I do think the President should incur at least some blame. Especially since he hired a horse club president as the FEMA director.

Just for the record, the Repulicans haven't behaved much better. Here's how it breaks down: If you are a Democrat, you blame Bush for the Government's failure to act swiftly. If you are a Republican, you blame the Mayor of New Orleans for failure to evacuate the city. Personally, I think the whole situation stinks of bad execution of a bad plan. There's plenty of blame to go around. In the meantime, how about we just focus on helping some people out.

3) New Orleans should be rebuilt somewhere else.
Or at least next time, don't expect federal dollars to pay for the rebuilding. You want flood insurance? Find a private company to do it. What about all the history and culture? I know--it seems like a waste to abandon it. But do we really want to build a city which is 6 feet below sea level, sits between a river and a lake, and is located in a hurricane alley? Furthermore, the city is sinking. I know, I know, we'll just build the levees higher, to protect us from the storm of the century, instead of the storm of the decade. But sooner or later, the storm of the century will come. And then what? More $$$. More loss of life. More policiticans blaming the President and the Mayor.

Anne Rice disagrees.

4) The .0009% of the population that is completely nuts ruins it for everyone.
How pissed do you have to be to start shooting at rescue workers?

5) Where are you going to go when the looting starts?
I'd grab a brand new power boat and head up the river.

waterlogged

For most of the last week, Hurricane Katrina has been the topic of conversation amongst my family and friends. My thoughts about the situation are still a bit jumbled, but a few things seem to be certain: the time it has taken to evacuate New Orleans is unacceptable; the damage is mindblowing; words are unable to express the sincerity we feel when we silently utter prayers for the victims.

When pondering out nation's recent tragedy, my mind becomes a hodgepodge of conflicting thoughts. The proverbial demon and angel tickle my shoulders, whisper in my ears. But I know not which is which.

In desperate times, people say desperate things. Emotion rather than reason proves the ultimate guide. Even the thoughtful among us succumb to the power pulsating in our hearts rather than the guidance buried our minds. Anger becomes rage, humility becomes self-centeredness.

Based on the news reports, the situation is as perilous as it can be. 80% of New Orleans has flooded, bodies are floating around the city, looting is rampant, over 2 million are without power, the death tool is around 100 and expected to rise into the thousands. By the way - I have one question for the gentlemen and ladies looting T.V.'s: where do you think you are going to plug it in?

"This is our tsunami," Biloxi Mayor A.J. Holloway told the Biloxi Sun Herald newspaper.

"I can only imagine that this is what Hiroshima looked like 60 years ago,'' said Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour after touring the destruction by air Tuesday.

In my lifetime, Hurricane Katrina is the worst natural disaster to affect the shores of America. But let's keep things in perspective. As horrible as things may be, the loss of life does not compare to Hiroshima or the recent tsunami in the Indian Ocean.

The mayor of Biloxi calls the carnage "our tsunami" and the Governor of Mississippi compares it to America's genocide of an entire Japanese city. Give me a break.

Think the demon on my shoulder is whispering louder than the angel?
Some facts:
Death toll from Katrina at the time of this writing: 105 (but expected to rise into the thousands).
Death toll from the tsunami: 255,000.
Death toll in Hiroshima: 190,000.

I mean not belittle the tremendous catastrophe and destruction caused by hurricane Katrina, but this disaster is but a fraction of what the tsunami was. I'm sure the mayor of Biloxi has a lot on his mind. But comparing the fate of Biloxi to the fate of millions of inhabitants of Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia, Bangledesh, India, Sri Lanka, Maldives, Somalia, Kenya, and Tanzania is a bit extreme, a lot overdramatic, and only reinforces the depths of American ethnocentricism. It's as if we are convinced American lives matter more than those from Sri Lanka.

Furthermore, the victims of Katrina have the good fortune of living within the borders of the U.S., where houses are rebuilt, flood waters are pumped out, and roads are drivable again. In America, the President can promise that we will rebuild, and we believe him. But do the people of Thialand have the same assurances?

black gold

Gas at the gas station close to my house: $2.999/Gallon.

What I'm really hoping is that the new gas crisis causes people to rethink America's energy policy. I'm afraid that it will simply cause people to insist the government do something to lower the price of a gallon of fuel.

You see, I'm one of those tree huggers who thinks there isn't an unlimited amount of oil hiding beneath the belly of the earth. I subscribe to the crazy theory, like gravity, that eventually there won't be anymore oil.

And then what? It might not happen in our lifetime, but what about our children's?

I also believe America could end its dependence on oil. Think about it - what if we'd spent 200 BILLION investing in alternative energy sources, instead of waging a pointless war in Iraq? I'm willing to bet that for 200 billion, we'd be able to figure out how to power cars with electricity instead of oil. Hell, for 200 billion, we might even find the cure for cancer. O well. What are they doing living on top of our oil anyway?

America is the world's superpower because of its technological superiority. We make the most money and have the biggest guns. I can think no better way to continue this superiority than to be the first to find ways to heat homes and drive cars without relying on oil.

Finding the replacement for oil seems perfectly logical to me. Oil will eventually dry up. As it begins to run out, it will become more expensive. As it becomes more expensive, it negatively affect the American economy. The solution: don't rely on oil. Seems obvious, but I'm not optimistic. Our politicians don't seem to be the best at recognizing the obvious.

cheese

Driving home from my most recent trip to Wisconsin Dells, I stopped to refuel in Black River Falls. While refueling, I was drawn to what appeared to be a barn converted into a liquor store/cheese shop/antique store/coffee shop/gift shop/art dealer. I had stumbled onto the headquarters for Chippewa Valley Cheese. Drawn by the possibility of discovering some good local coffee/beer/cheese, secretly excited by the "Fresh Cheese Curds" sign, I headed inside to check it out.

2 parenthetical thoughts before continuing:
1) When it comes to food and drink, local is better, and handcrafted is best. I believe in farmer's markets, owner-operated coffee suppliers, home-made bread, hand-crafted cheese, and microbrews. Call me a snob if you like.

When I stumble onto a place which potentially offers a unique culinary experience, even if it's just cheese, I get excited.

2) Wisconsin is supposedly known for it's cheese and it's consumption of beer. Which is strange because I've yet to find a Wisconsin produced offering of either which could be classified as anything better than average. Leinenkugel's Honey Weiss isn't a bad beer, but it isn't great. Besides, Lienkugel's is owned by Miller.

Greeting us at the entrance of Chippewa Valley Cheese was the smell of fresh coffee mixed with a slightly pungent aroma of fresh cheese. I made a beeline for the coffee barrista, but a table with (free) samples of cheese caught my eye, and my caffeine craving was put on (temporary) hold. I sampled most of their offerings 3 or 4 times, using a tree's worth of toothpicks, and in the end was most satisfied with "True Blue Cheddar," a suprisingly well balanced mix of cheddar and blue cheese.

The next time you find yourself driving across Wisconsin on I-94, think about stopping in Black River Falls. Otherwise, you can order Chippewa Valley Cheese online. I recommend the 4 year aged white cheddar and the True Blue Cheddar.

And the cappuccino was good, too. Not too milky ("dry" in coffee snob lingo) - just the way I like them.

wisconsin, part 3

rubber ducky, you're the one

wisconsin, part 2

I spent last weekend in Wisconsin Dells. I've been there before. Wisconsin Dells ain't Italy. Tourist trap and convenient family vacation, it is. This time Elaine, Ana, and I went with my family. This is the 3rd summer in a row we've gone. We stayed at Kalahari Resort. We'll go back.

Elaine and I day dream about taking a family vacation somewhere with a bit more history than Wisconsin Dells. Someday we will. But we've got a 2 year old daughter. Life is simple when you are 2. Cookies are good, naps are bad. Swimming pools are good, naps are bad. Grandma and Aunt Teresa are good, naps are bad. As such, Ana was in heaven this last weekend. And I began to understand the joy found in watching your child having a good time.

Ana loved the swimming pool, the hotel room, and the buffet full of sweets, and the gift shop full of stuffed animals.

I enjoyed doing nothing, not thinking about work, and drinking a stupid amount of whiskey. But mostly, I enjoyed watching my daughter smile. I'm easy to please.

no reservations

Turns out I'm not the only person who watches No Reservations, my hands down favorite T.V. show.

Calmity Jo from MAWB Squad also enjoys Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations.

For those of you not familar with the best show on T.V, check it out Monday nights at 9 Central on the Travel Channel.

good music

vegan chai posted her list of music artists which she has purchased every album. I figured I might as well do the same. Here's the list:

Counting Crows

That's it. My list of unique whisk(e)y bottles would be longer, but I'll save that for another day.

It's not that I don't love music, its just that I went to college during the rise of napster. Like sex in the 70's, music was free in the late 90's. Too bad record companies got pissed because they weren't making any money. Sourpusses.

I no longer endorse downloading music without compensating the artist. Mostly because I'm afraid of getting sued.

But thanks to the goodness of iTunes, legitimately downloading music is convenient, albeit not free. Yet the ability to download one song from an album beats the hell out of being forced to spend $15.99 for an album with one good song. I'm hoping this phenomenon forces record companies to pressure bands to release good albums rather than just good singles.

There's but a few good albums I can listen to without skipping tracks. They are:
1) Counting Crows, August and Everything After
2) Sarah McLachlan, Mirrorball
3) Indigo Girls, 1000 Curfews
4) Damien Rice, 0
5) Ray LaMontagne, Trouble
6) Ben Harper, The Will To Live
7) Cedar 3, Wishes and Wine
8) David Gray, White Ladder
9) Led Zeppelin, (Untitled)

What's your list?

take him out!

Most of you are probably aware of Pat Robertson's latest proclamation from the pulpit: the United States should "take out" Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.

If Minnesota's former governor Jesse Ventura had uttered such a phrase, we'd all simply roll our eyes. After all, Jesse has hunted man. However, Pat Robertson speaks for God. And when God starts telling the United States to knock off leaders of nations, its time we take notice.

However, it seems God has reneged on the idea of offing of Mr. Chavez.

This one is too good to pass up. Apparently, 'take him out' means 'take him out for dinner.' Silly us. Brother Pat explains:

I didn't say 'assassination.' I said our special forces should 'take him out.' And 'take him out' can be a number of things, including kidnapping; there are a number of ways to take out a dictator from power besides killing him. I was misinterpreted by the AP [Associated Press], but that happens all the time," Robertson said on "The 700 Club."

Maybe President Bush should use the same "misquoted" defense - "When I said there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, I was misquoted. Weapons of Mass Destruction can mean lots of things. What I meant was that Saddam had a huge library of old porno movies."

Or John Kerry - "When I said I had a plan for America, I was misquoted. 'Plan' can mean many things. I really meant I would say whatever I thought would get me elected."

Or Bill Clinton - "When I said I didn't inhale, I was misquoted. 'Didn't' can mean many things. What I was trying to say was I did not not inhale."

Or George H.W. Bush - "When I said read my lips, I was misquoted. 'Read my lips' is a phrase we use at Yale for 'I'm lying my ass off."

For more proof the internet has everything, click here.

For Brother Pat in his own words, click here.

shitty first drafts

I write to escape.

During the past few months, some of you may have observed my silence. Timbu did, and I'm honoured. My silence is indicative of my confinement. My outpouring of words is a plead for help.

Just kidding. I wrote that last part for drama.

The real truth is that I should learn to prioritize better. Writing is good for me, and I should do it more. It's just that other things impede upon my writing time. Lately, the parasite has been work.

For the most part, I like my job. I'd prefer to spend 40-80 hours a week doing something which benefited society, but let's be realistic. Few people are so lucky. I work because preachin' don't pay. And as far as work goes, I have it good. The bathrooms are clean, the people are nice, and my boss understands there is more to life than work.

Maybe because I want to make sure I maintain gainful employment, I've spent much of the past 6 months working during the time I used to spend writing. My wife works hard during the day, - chasing a 2 year old around while carrying another baby is surely more tiring than anything I'll ever do. She usually goes to bed before I do, and lately the norm has resulted in me getting on the computer and working after she went to bed, hence the lack of writing.

I should be clear-this blog isn't my only outlet. Timbu recently reveled one of my secrets-I'm a seminarian. I write lots of papers. And lately, my papers have sucked. (See above for reasons.)

I write because it feels like exorcism. Demons chase my thoughts. Memories haunt my mind. But the soothing process of assembling verbs and nouns into cognizant reflection chases the demons away and causes those haunting memories to be reborn into a beautiful testament of life. Said differently (and less pretentiously), writing is almost as good as drinking. Both make me relax. Alcohol is faster and requires less effort, but writing protects my liver from unnecessary abuse. Usually, I try to double down and do both at the same time.

In Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott writes that the secret to writing is shitty first drafts. Consider this, and all the things you read on this blog, a shitty first draft. The good news is it can only get better. The truth is that even if the writing is shitty, the meaning remains the same.

-the preacher

more stupid polls

I'm only 42% American. I wonder what the other 58% of me is.....Lebanese I bet.

You Are 42% American

America: You don't love it or want to leave it. But you wouldn't mind giving it an extreme make over. On the 4th of July, you'll fly a freak flag instead... And give Uncle Sam a sucker punch!

How American Are You?