Re: Disassembling

Re: Disassembling

Our house is coming apart. As it becomes barren I recall brightly the day the landlady first walked me through back in June 2003. On that day for a brief moment I thought I could be on her good side. Boy, was I ever wrong. I celebrate because as of today I'll probably never see her or the handyman again. And if I do it will be on a return visit, not as a tenant.

Donna's mom and grandma left sometime this morning. We've decided we need to make two trips in order to get everything there. We'll make the first one tomorrow carrying our records and whatever else we can wedge in. We're going to finish cleaning the place tonight. We'll get to bed early at 10-ish and get up early at 4-ish.

We should get to Jackson at noontime. We're leaving our junk at her mom's house until we're ready to take it to Nashville. We'll unload, congregate and eat. We'll sleep that night and wake early again to get back sometime Sunday afternoon. We'll call it "Jet-Lag Weekend."

There remain a few small chores to be done, like getting the phone and power turned off and filing a change of address. Our house is coming apart. Our lives here are almost only memories. Our new home will be coming together in no time at all. We'll find ourselves assembled into a whole new scene.

What always makes a person miss a place is the people who share that place. The shame of a college town is that people come and go, no matter how indispensible they are. Almost every friend I've made here has moved on. Were it not for that I'm sure it would be harder to leave Graceville. But that is the case and so I don't find leaving difficult in the least.

I know for certain my old friends will never be replaced. Still, I can't help but look forward to befriending people who have, for all practical purposes, settled.

I'll leave off with this. I was contacted today by the good folks at the Ryman Auditorium where I had put in an application. They want me to get in touch with them as soon as I'm moved in. I have a good feeling about it. It's all coming together.

Church

Being that I am not serving in a church currently, I struggle with finding some place to call my home, so to speak. Church for me has always been more conventional, than essential. I know my thoughts are flawed and I am really trying to strive to be faithful to not forsake the fellowship with other believers through corporate worship. However, I'm lazy a lot and like to sleep past noon as much as possible. Enter the problem. While I still have not found a really likeable church here in New Orleans, I do have the liberty to goto different churches that I have never attended before. This is a story about last Sunday.

At first, when I decided to attend this specific church, I wasn't really sure how many people I wanted to tell. I knew my reasons for going, but I didn't want other people to come along who did not have my same intentions. So I got up and went by myself. It was quite an experience.

I attended the First Unitarian Universalist of New Orleans. It was an interesting experience, to say the least. While I knew their theology more in regard to the Universalist side, they are quite syncretic. Of course they supposedly hold more educational and ethical stances that closely fall in line with Judeo-Christian teaching, but they see nothing wrong with Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, or any other religion because they all lead to Heaven (ala, Universalism).

So, I'm there. Quite awkward the whole time. Two ladies talked to me, which was nice. Though both of their conversations, after the name-game intros, were questions along the lines of, "How did you find us?" One lady even warned me, "We're not like a lot of other churches." Yeah, I noticed.

The service was pretty basic and bland. The music, though not on the same level of professionalism as protestant churches, was pretty horrible. Off key singing, piano, and off-time tambourine playing. Their hymnals are quite funny. The "hymns" are pretty vague, almost coded, songs to the "creator" and such. I was hesitant to sing along.

The "UU's" (as they refer to themselves) were pretty funny looking too. I don't mean that in a disrespectful or hateful way. It wasn't like they were the rejected-type people of society (homeless, poor, ugly, downtrodden, etc). It was more like, the emotionally unstable people and the egocentric folk who thrive on controlling those types of people's lives (just my perception and opinion).

Now it was about time for the sermon. The minister just recently accepted the call of the church. This was her second Sunday there. The minister, a lesbian, was not a horrible orator. She seemed educated. Her "message" was basically an exegesis, if it can be, of a business book that is on The New York Times Bestseller list. She gave the people some inspiring words from this guy's writing. There wasn't even a mention of the Bible. Oh wait, she did mention the Bible. The minister mentioned that the church would continue to grow and care for people if it's members would do one thing: keep their word. Her reference to John 1, where "word" [Greek]logos was used. ("In the beginning was the Word.") She emphatically spoke about being true to your word, again citing that verse. I don't think she knew that "Word" means Jesus.

Finally, for the benediction, she asked us to do something different. She asked the congregation to form a circle around the church, hold hands, and listen to a song that she thought was special. It was a recording of a woman singing a very noticeable song. Me, not trying to purposely attract attention to myself, got up and joined them for their "oneness" time. The song seemed familiar at first. Then, I knew exactly what it was. We were listening to John Lennon's "Imagine." Hahaha. I couldn't believe it. I was tempted to sing it because it's hard to not sing songs I know. But I refused. I definitely don't mean it the way they were taking it. I kind of liked that song before, but now, it seems remiss to enjoy it knowing what people use it for (besides everybody else's views that John wrote specifically to be entirely Atheistic, Communistic, or Fascist).

When the service was over, I was ready to go. I went with hopes to maybe build relationships, but I mostly just went to see what it was like. I filled out a guest registration thing, so maybe the minister would call me, and I could talk to her some. This really was a good experience. Now I remember what it feels like to be in an uncomfortable place. I bet non-Christians attending our churches for the first time have a lot of these same feelings that I experienced.

I think this Sunday I'll stick with a church that actually believe that Jesus is the way, truth, and the life. Or maybe I'll just sleep in.

Points and Non-Points

Points and Non-Points

I'm not going to review Songs for Silverman yet.
I sit here in the school's computer lab where new flat screen computers have just been installed.
A mellow guy was just asked by an uptight girl to "step outside" . They had something to discuss. That was embarrasing(for him) but fun and exciting(for me).
When I'm having to work with someone and I get mad I like to pretend I may have an asthma attack.
The gland on the left side of my jaw has been swollen for a few days.
We've almost got our apartment cleaned out.
65-70% of all we had will be donated, sold or thrown away.
We're keeping a meager 30-35% of our stuff.
Most of that is clothes and records.
And yet, the mom and grandma act as though we have such an incredible amount of stuff.
I insist it seems like a lot because we live in a 600 sq. ft. apartment.
I have 14 minutes to finish this post. That's when Donna gets out of class.
It's hard to be thankful when people are overbearing.
Then we'll go back to the apartment and finish loading her grandma's van up.
Her grandma thinks it absolutely necessary for us to leave our apartment spic-n-span.
I think the goal is to get our stuff out. I think to go to any lengths to clean would be to do the management a favor and I refuse to do that.
Afterall, by way of a loophole I never paid a deposit and thus, don't have one to get back.
7 minutes.
The mom wonders if they should go ahead and leave in the morning because the van will be full.
I think that's a good idea.
I like and appreciate them but would rather hang out under different circumstances.
Grandma is worried that if we overload the van a tire will blow out.
If we were hauling a hundred cement blocks I could understand.
Everything I loaded up was repositioned after I walked away.
If I hear "if ya'll could just move to Jackson" one more time I'll...grin and bear it.
Conversation runs incessant on if our car will be able to carry what remains. They think maybe to come back, and again it's a nice gesture, but an unnecessary one.
Somehow they can't see how empty the house has gotten.
Donna's gone overtime, so I have to wrap this up. She'll be here any second.
All in all, packing up has been fun.
Our getaway plan is really coming to life. That is, there's no turning back. That is, there's no way I'm unloading that van anywhere but Nashville.
I look forward to getting new things, like a new couch and dining table. On the other hand, grandma thinks it is unfit to live without this kind of furniture.
She worries for us that even for a short time we won't have them.
The only two people in Graceville that I'll really miss is Ms. Connie and her dog, Bushido.
I don't think my parents understand that we really are serious about leaving.
Well, they'll see.
I'm tired and I need to run.

Eradicate ya later,

An Epic Adventure of CD Acquisition

An Epic Adventure of CD Acquisition-or-How I got my copy of Ben Folds' Songs for Silverman.

A few weeks ago I decided I wouldn't buy a new cd until we were settled in Nashville. It wasn't that I had been buying too many, actually my quarterly spending on music was at an all-time low. I had, however, already been anticipating the release of a select few albums. It was these that I had been looking forward to for three years or longer. When I decide something like this fast, even if it is needless, I stick to my guns. I was really going to follow through, I swear.

What happened was well, it was my birthday. The thought of breaking down and buying Ben Folds' latest had been etching itself into my brain. That day I desperately pleaded with Donna to let me. Her plan had actually been to let that be part of my birthday. Of course, she would have had it on the day except it wasn't due out for another few days. Her plan was to tell me in the card. But since I asked she went ahead and told me.

Monday we went to Wal-Mart with Ms. Connie and Rosie. We were picking up ingredients for a meal we would all share later. I asked Donna if I could go over to the entertainment section. I had convinced myself that I'd be able to talk a young punk into selling the album a day early. I wanted to do this for the sake of the music, but also because we've been conserving gasoline and the thought of making a trip just for a cd was one I couldn't stomach. Donna did not think it would be a good idea. We were, afterall, only to be there for a few minutes. I would not go aganist her wishes. I pouted and was depressed at the lost opportunity.

The story took a turn for the good yesterday afternoon. Ms. Connie had to make a trip to Chipley and she invited us along. Back in Wal-Mart I trotted off on my own. I made a mental note of the significance of the occassion. It felt special, indeed. I found it. Got my hands on it and looked it over. Anticipation built. I was greeted by my wife and our friend. We went to the checkout. Anticipation built. I wrote the check over so we could eat at McDonald's.

In the van I struggled to remove the cellophane. Soon I found myself eyeball to eyeball with the face of the compact disc. I took the liner notes out, flipped through, but mostly only looked at the pictures. I refused to read the lyrics before hearing the music. I refused to play the disc, as much as I wanted to, because in the past I've discovered that to introduce a person to someone they've not heard much of on the initial listen of an album is only bad news.

Back home. The moment had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. Donna had to call her mom and she wanted to take a shower. I wanted everyone in the house to be in tune and ready when this great moment occured. No one could be left out. The wait seemed eternal, but soon enough we were comfortably sitting on the livingroom floor. First, we would watch the DVD documentary that came with the disc. This would build the anticipation and intensity just right. Then...

The moment of truth came. And wow. I heard music...as though there's any other way to take it in. I wasn't disappointed. I'll say that much. I was pleased to finally live in this moment. I knew I'd like the music more once I knew the words. I knew this mission of learning all the words would be my next mission. I would pursue it fiercely...but until then...stay tuned for my review.

Thanks pal.

Countdown Revisited

Countdown Revisited

0 days until Ben Folds' Songs for Silverman is released
4 days left under the tyranny of Graceland Manor
6 days until Ryan Adams' Cold Roses is released (I get an advance copy this week.)
13 days until Weezer's Make Believe is released.
14 days until we leave for Nashville

O Sweet Redemption.

In Memoriam

Dr. Lee died Saturday at 3:30 am. He was 73. He served as professor of Old Testament for something like forty years. He was a rare kind of a man, in every way. It wouldn't be hard to do a laundry list of his positive attributes. More importantly, what we saw in him was the personification of "fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." He was surely a brilliant man, but what we remember instead is a great spiritual legacy. A person wouldn't have to have a series of long conversations with him to know this. He taught God's word and mostly those were the words from his mouth. What was remarkable about this, however, was not his profound skill of oratory. Instead, it was this: That the scripture was deeply personal to him. I've never seen anything like this and I fear I may never see it again. He may not have wanted me to go on about him like this. But, if I insisted he would be honored, deeply honored at the suggestion that he leaves such an incredible legacy of faith. If he would be remembered at all, he would want to be remembered like that.

A Day Celebrated

A Day Celebrated

It's the end of day. It's the perfect end of a perfect day. What better way to end it than to take a few minutes to key it into the computer.

Thtoughout my life as holidays and days of celebration have come to a close I've almost always felt an immediate and overwhelming sense of loss. To come down from such a high was devastating. My anticipation of this has loomed ominous over those good times.

This time, however, it was different. It was really only another day, but it tipped the scale to weigh me a year older. This time the moment lived. The moment lived not for the sentiment or simply so we could say "we did". It existed for it's own ambition: that we could all live too.

We are inspired by its life and as a result we live more inspiringly. I've come to a place in life where I see that a great day is more than the sum of its parts. In it lies something more profound. We can't expect a single day to defeat what made other days bad or mundane.

To quote Bruce Hornby, what we can do is "kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight." What we usually do, instead, is accept the darkness. We can't afford to be passive about our hope for better days or our desire to make things better.

In essence: to live is not to survive, to live is to die trying. That is kind of what I learned today. More to come later...

It's Never Fun To Be Left Out (Like In The First Grade)

Too many times
I use the same old lines
To express my deepest feelings
Although I've tried
To recount the reasons why
It's much too painful
With all of the reasons met
The secrets unrevealingly kept
I thought I had the truth
But when routine got in the way
Modernists showed their face
And I just sank within
You see, it wasn't so short
The time when he and you used to court
Once again, I was left out
Do I expect to be included
Into your lives which are absolutely diluted
It's not like me to assume that much
But now that it's over
And you have picked all his four-leafed clovers
You want to come back
And reuse mine

Tell Your Friends and Neighbors

I am selling 65 Christian books on eBay.