The Pronunciations They Are a Changin'

As we close out the game of April and head into May (with a very special first inning), here's an observation:

I was watching the highlights of the Bostons v. Atlanta basketball game and thought:
Boston: don't get smug. You have - 4.9 million people; Atlanta has 5.3 million. There was a shift. Get over it.

But second (and apropos to this post):
We still refer to the Celtics with a soft "C" sound, even though everything else celt-related has now been modified to a hard "C" (or "K") sound.

When I was a young boy, my first dog was named Hailey. He was a Schipperke and we pronounced his name the same as Halley's Comet: with a long "A". By the time the comet made its pass, though, we were admonished to pronouce it with a short "A".

And speaking of dogs and pronunciations, there's the whole Peking/Beijing thing. The city has been renamed (or at least repronounced) as Beijing, but the dogs (and I use the term advisedly) are still "Pekingnese" and we still order "Peking Duck" at the restaurant. I'm not sure why we made the switch when we haven't respelled Munich or Moscow to Munchen or Mockba. For that matter, we don't bother to be precise on the pronunciations of Paris, Budapest, Mexico, or Quebec, to name just a few. But we do differentiate between Notre Dame and Notre Dame, depending on which place we're talking about.

Just a little pre-game warmup as we head into the inning of May.

Concessions from the Scouting Group

Tonight, the Scouting Group ate at the Bonefish Grill. It was the second time in the past week and it is quickly becoming a new favorite. Tonight's entree, the Chilean Sea Bass grilled over wood, was as good as a steak (and I mean that as a compliment). The other night, I had the wood-grilled Grouper and was equally impressed.

The atmosphere is nice and relaxed (we ate in the bar area both times) and the televisions in the bar (I know: we've already lost that battle) were at least silent, but get this: our first trip they were set on a baseball game and tonight they were playing the Food Network! I'm sold.

The Art of Song

Mark Steyn, one of the Designated Hitters here at the Park, knocked another homerun this morning with his Song of the Week. I'll let you read it at your leisure, but I loved what he wrote about the "art of song":

Sooner or later someone staples words to just about every popular jazz instrumental. But, from Duke Ellington's "Take The A Train" to Bill Evans' "Waltz For Debby", they somehow never quite convince you they're anything other than instrumental pieces to which a lyric has been appended. They fail the test of that marvelous Encyclopedia Britannica definition that Ira Gershwin liked to quote:

SONG is the joint art of words and music, two arts under emotional pressure coalescing into a third.

With lyricized instrumentals, they rarely "coalesce" in the way that, say, "Ol' Man River" or "Over The Rainbow" do. It's like putting words to Beethoven's Fifth: You can do it but the lyric winds up riding the tune like a jockey, rather than achieving, as the Britannica puts it, the status of a third, joint art.

The Tithe of Time

Coach Jim today gave the best sermon I have ever heard on stewardship, tithing, and all things related. In his characteristic style, he was able to illuminate such a touchy subject without alienating segments of the audience - while at the same time being true to the biblical witness. That's my boy! His text was 1 Timothy 6:17-19 -

Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.

I have a theory that our Sabbath observance is also a tithe - of time. And, by extension, I believe that 7 hours and 12 minutes is a good night's sleep. Let me explain.

There are seven days in a week and 24 hours in each day. That makes 168 hours in a week. One-tenth (a "tithe") is 16.8 hours, or 16 hours and 48 minutes. That seems to be basically one "waking-hour" day. So there's your Sunday. And, conversely, the remaining time (7.2 hours, or 7 hours and 12 minutes), is devoted to sleep. That's what I've been using as a guide for the past few years, and it's been a blessing to me.

Time. Talent. Treasures. We're called to be good stewards of these. I want to continually ask myself: How am I doing with the Lord's tithe - and with my offerings?

If I Had a Hammer

Just in case you missed my previous post about Jimmy Carter, let me reiterate: He acts like he has a peanut for a brain. Yes, of course, he's a fellow child of God. Sure, fine. Maybe he and I will have a good laugh about all this up in Heaven. For right now, though, his behavior is reckless and dangerous.

I'd also appreciate it if we could drop the whole "he may have been a terrible president, but he's a great ex-president" line. Great (or even marginal) ex-presidents don't go about making the world less safe.

I'm also beginning to call into question his philanthropic work with Habitat for Humanity, or at the very least, I would hope that someone was going behind him on all those house construction projects, checking his work. After his latest faux pas, I'm not sure he's even competent to hold a hammer up on a ladder.

I just read Michelle Malkin's article about the Peanut Farmer's not-so-excellent adventure and got incensed all over again.

Recycling at Its Best

Happy Earth Day! For a better way to celebrate April 22, however, remember the Land Run of 1889. Saddle up! For those of you unfamiliar with it, the Land Run of 1889 opened up the whole middle part of Oklahoma for settlement. Overnight, the towns of Guthrie and Oklahoma City came into being and, by dusk, they each had 10,000 inhabitants. Talk about environmental impact!

The terms "Sooner" and "Boomer" also came into being that day, with the "Sooners" jumping the gun. I never thought about it, but I guess all of us Baby Boomer Okies are actually Sooner Boomers!

And talkin' 'bout my generation, I do remember the first Earth Day in 1970. I was in the 10th grade and I rode my bicycle to school. Of course, the big fear back then was global cooling. Makes you wonder what they'll come up with as the next crisis.

As is often the case, Mark Steyn has written the definitive column about Earth Day. It originally appeared in The Daily Telegraph in 2004 and it is now recycled gold. I hope you enjoy it and we'll see you tomorrow.

Top of the Twenty-Second

At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth.

- 2 Timothy 4:16-17

The Goldberg Variations

Just finished Liberal Fascism by Jonah Goldberg. In its 487 pages (58 of which are footnotes and supporting documents) Mr Goldberg gives us an eye-opening history lesson, none of which I learned in the citadels of higher education.

Now, I had always suspected that the German and Italian fascists were creatures of the left (I mean, which part of "National Sozialistische" is unclear?) And their whole pagan Aryan culture silliness struck me as some kind of proto-New Age nonsense. And I already had bad feelings that the current trend in America of undermining parental authority sounded eerily familiar. But I had no idea that Hitler and his cronies were vegetarians, animal rights activists, virulent anti-smokers . . . heck, forget about looking for Hitler in Argentina: you're more likely to find him in the bulk aisle at Whole Foods.

And then there was the amazing suspension of civil rights in the US under Wilson and Roosevelt (that part I knew), with their "speech codes" and "neighborhood watch" wardens. And even though I have always opposed the minimum wage because I thought it actually hurt minorities, I never knew that that was the stated intention of the Southern Democrats who passed it in the New Deal era. And don't get me started about the unbelievable racism and eugenics horrors of the American left.

Mr Goldberg is not saying that if you read It Takes a Village you're a crypto-Nazi. In fact, he thinks that most "liberals" today have the best of intentions. But we all know where those intentions are used as pavement.

His point is that the underlying premises that are the bases for what we call liberalism today are actually more in line with fascist thought, and that it is the "conservatives" who are more in tune with what has historically been referred to as "classical liberalism."

It's a great read and, if you're willing to open your mind, an amazingly helpful book in filling in the holes of all the history you never learned.

Top of the Twenty-First

When morning gilds the skies my heart awaking cries:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Alike at work and prayer, to Jesus I repair:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

And a good Monday to you all! This song is often on my mind when I wake up by "dawn's early light." I never can remember the rest of the first verse, so today I looked it up on CyberHymnal. There are actually 15 verses! So, as we head into extra innings, here's a gift for you today. Some of the verses were translated into English by Edward Caswall from an old Katholisches Gesangbuch. Another fellow, Robert S. Bridges, added more verses. The music is by Joseph Barnby. I think I'm going to try to memorize one verse a day - and then make it "part of a complete breakfast"!

When you begin the day, O never fail to say,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
And at your work rejoice, to sing with heart and voice,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Whene’er the sweet church bell peals over hill and dell,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
O hark to what it sings, as joyously it rings,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

My tongue shall never tire of chanting with the choir,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
This song of sacred joy, it never seems to cloy,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Does sadness fill my mind? A solace here I find,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Or fades my earthly bliss? My comfort still is this,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

To God, the Word, on high, the host of angels cry,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Let mortals, too, upraise their voice in hymns of praise,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this at meals your grace, in every time and place;
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Be this, when day is past, of all your thoughts the last
May Jesus Christ be praised!

When mirth for music longs, this is my song of songs:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
When evening shadows fall, this rings my curfew call,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

When sleep her balm denies, my silent spirit sighs,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
When evil thoughts molest, with this I shield my breast,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

The night becomes as day when from the heart we say:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
The powers of darkness fear when this sweet chant they hear:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

No lovelier antiphon in all high Heav’n is known
Than, Jesus Christ be praised!
There to the eternal Word the eternal psalm is heard:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Let all the earth around ring joyous with the sound:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
In Heaven’s eternal bliss the loveliest strain is this:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Sing, suns and stars of space, sing, ye that see His face,
Sing, Jesus Christ be praised!
God’s whole creation o’er, for aye and evermore
Shall Jesus Christ be praised!

In Heav’n’s eternal bliss the loveliest strain is this,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Let earth, and sea and sky from depth to height reply,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this, while life is mine, my canticle divine:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Sing this eternal song through all the ages long:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Top Ten Reasons Mitt Romney Dropped Out

I caught the audio of Mitt Romey's speech at some Press Club Dinner affair on Mark Levin yesterday. A video version was on ABC News, via Yahoo. Here is the text. I thought he was very funny.

Mitt Romney's Top Ten Reasons for Bowing Out of the Race

10. There weren't as many Osmonds as I had thought.
9. I got tired of the corkscrew landings under sniper fire.
8. As a lifelong hunter, I didn't want to miss the start of varmint season.
7. There wasn't room in the campaign for two Christian leaders.
6. Word leaked out that nobody had bothered to search my passport files.
5. I'd rather get fat, grow a beard and try for the Nobel Prize.
4. I wanted to finally take off the dark suit and tie and kick back . . . in a light colored suit and tie.
3. Once my wife, Ann, realized I couldn't win, my fundraising dried up.
2. I took a bad fall at a campaign rally and broke my hair.

And the number one reason I bowed out of the race:

1. There was a flaw in our campaign theory that, "as Utah goes, so goes the country."

Georgia Out of My Mind

For anyone who knows me, I think this should be clear, but just in case anyone hasn't checked in since college, please know the following unequivocally:

If I ever said anything nice about Jimmy Carter or Ted Turner, I hereby take everything back. I was either young or stupid or both. They are both vain, petty, wrong-headed men and I am sorry to have ever said anything to the contrary.

Even the part about admiring the Carters for their work with Habitat for Humanity. We have lots of people at our church who have devoted real time and work for that cause and, as far as I know, none of them have ever subverted the policies of the United States. They also haven't done it so that they can be photographed in action.

And Ted is just nuts. I actually think the Atlanta Braves would be one of my favorite teams if they didn't still have the psychic resonance of the Mouth of the South as their curse. Maybe the Ghost Hunters can be called in. But there's no saving CNN. It's damaged goods, plain and simple

The sad thing is: I love Georgia as a state. It's beautiful and diverse and Atlanta is one of my favorite cities on earth. But even their baseball stars don't seem to help. I used to look up to Ty Cobb and I have since learned that he was a hard man - and that's putting it nicely. I also visited Kevin Brown's hometown once on business. When I mentioned to the Director of Gas Operations that I thought this was Kevin's stomping grounds, his eyes lit up. He drove me by the house where he grew up. But I think he (Kevin) might be a little off, too. Maybe it's the Kaolin pits that the town is known for.

And then there's the whole Deliverance thing. And don't get me started about Designing Women.

But at least the Food Network stars that hail from there . . . no, they're kind of wacky, too. I mean, Paula Deen and Alton Brown . . . well, at least they seem to be nice folks. So I'll hold on to that. And Newt Gingrich.

OK. I feel better. But please throw out anything nice I ever said about Jimmy Carter or Ted Turner. It was just the peanuts talking.

On the Training Table

Coach Jim and I met each other at the grocery store yesterday. We're both getting serious about "Spring Training" and so we decided to be each other's accountability partner. Official weigh-ins were last night (the scales must be broken!) Or, as Coach said, "You know it's time to get serious when you get on the scales and they say, 'One at a time, please.'"

We both have been doing really well exercising and I think we both want to watch our food intake. Unfortunately, gone are the days when we could just cut out a serving of potatoes once a week and the pounds would magically disappear. So, today we start in earnest.

More vegetables, more fruits, less fats, less sugars. I seem to do better if I cut my carbohydrate intake, but this time around I'm going to try just eating whole-grains rather than a hard-line Atkins approach.

I showed Coach my favorite oatmeal: "Scottish Oatmeal" from Bob's Red Mill. I had never thought of it before, but Coach Jim wondered if the oats really were from Scotland, as the name is "Scottish Oatmeal" and not "Scottish-style Oatmeal" - kind of like how things now have to be called "Canadian-style bacon" and "Nilla wafers". On the other hand, how does Cream Cheese still get to be "Philadelphia"? I don't think the factory is necessarily in the City of Brotherly Love.

Anyway, Bob's oatmeal is great stuff, and he looks very jaunty with his tam o'shanter on the label. Give it a try. And keep Coach and me in your prayers.

Top of the Fourteenth

The acorn, when planted, though small it may be,
How quickly it grows to a wide spreading tree;
A lesson, dear children, for you and for me,
We all can do something for Jesus.

- Fanny Crosby

Bark in the Park

The Tulsa Drillers baseball team hosts, at least once a year, the "Bark in the Park". You can bring your dog to the park. Here's Chester and Lindsay on the field before the game.


Hot dogs were 50 cents. We saw a lot of 50 cent hot dog plays on the field, too, and one amazing double play.



Chester was great except that we might have given him one too many hot dogs - he threw up in the third inning.


Here are Lindsay and Jason with Chester and Jewel.







It was a great day at the park.

Loss of Yardage

Well, we were penalized about 20 yards. The best I can tell, the foul we commited was "Failing to have a building named after you" or maybe "Failure to be a large corporate donor". Anyway, we ended up about 20 yards and change north of where we used to be, probably on about the 25 yard line.

I think the thing that really smarts is that our seats had been in the same place for about 60 years. My dad and his friend, Sankey, bought season tickets when they came home from the war. And they were faithful fans (and let's face it, where TU is concerned, that ought to count for a lot) through all the lean years, though the years when you came just to hear the band, through the Keith Burns years - you name it, they were there.

But the whole algorithm for figuring out who got to pick seats first seemed - well, let's be charitable and just call it "outcome determinative". The way the various parameters were weighted (for example, we got credit for "years of attendance" - but only back through 1992 - why 1992?) smelled a little fishy from the start.

Money's important to a program, don't get me wrong. But 60 years of faithfulness ought to count for something.

So now I've got a claim on these new seats. Now I just need to decide if I really want them.

Top of the Eleventh

Good morning, everyone! Today's the day we pick our seats at the University of Tulsa's newly redesigned Chapman Stadium. For those of you familiar with the campus, this is the same stadium that used to be named Skelly Stadium. In the redesign, it will now be "Skelly Field at Chapman Stadium".

As you can see in the link, the new stadium will have a much smaller seating capacity. They have already removed all that scaffolding-like west-side upper-deck and press box. It had been there for 40-some odd years and it always looked temporary to me. The stadium proper will be back to the original, stone-built dimensions, and the new press box will also house some sky boxes and a Club Level. Most all of the seats in the "common folk" areas will also be larger and have chair backs, too.

Many of you have probably been through this reseating process at other venues. There is some arcane process whereby you get credit for years you've held your old seats (but only back to 1992), whether you are an alum, and (of course) how much you've contributed. Our old seats, on the 47-yard line and 25 rows up, have been in the family since right after World War II, but our last name isn't "Chapman" or "QuikTrip", so we probably will lose some yardage, but we'll see.

Wish me luck!

Edward Albee meets Scott Adams

We just watched the post-strike season premier of The Office. Wow. It was definitely worth the wait. I'm not sure I've ever laughed that much at a sit-com.

Michael and Jan invite Jim, Pam, Andy and Angela over for dinner. And, of course, Dwight is involved. It was like Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf meets Dilbert and it was The Office at its best. I spent 30 minutes simultaneously cringing and uncontrollably laughing.

And that's what she said.

Middle of the Ninth

Lindsay just read something we found incredible:

The B2 Stealth Bomber costs about $2 Billion per plane, or about three times its weight in gold.

- from International Relations by J S Goldstein and J C Pevehouse

That's a lot of bake sales!

Song of the South

Song, song of the south
Sweet potato pie and shut my mouth
Gone, gone with the wind
Ain't nobody lookin' back again
- Alabama

I just glanced at the Table of United States Metropolitan Statistical Areas (courtesy of Wikipedia). Wow, I need to reorient my thinking. We're all in the big leagues, now.

New York tops the list, of course, with 18.8 million folks. And Los Angeles is second with 12.9 million (although when you add in Ontario/Riverside/San Bernardino, the number climbs to 16.9). And Chicago is third with 9.5 million. That's the way I always learned it.

But now it gets different. Dallas/Ft Worth is fourth with - 6.1 million! When did that happen? And although Philadelphia is fifth with 5.8 million, Houston is close behind with 5.6 million. Miami comes in seventh with 5.4 million.

Here's the next big surprise. Washington, DC is eighth (that I could foresee), but now with 5.3 million souls (well, a large percentage are attorneys, so maybe "souls" is a stretch, but you get my meaning). And here is another big stunner: Atlanta now also has 5.3 million people living there! What would Aunt Pittypat say now about Yankees in Georgia? But there are plenty up north, too: Boston rounds out the top ten with 4.9 million.

We all seem to be growing boys and girls, but the huge, double-digit percentage increases are happening in the South and Southwest (Phoenix, Austin, Orlando, Las Vegas, Raleigh-Durham - you get the picture). In fact, of the top 50 areas, only four have lost population since 2000: Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Buffalo and Rochester. Do we discern a trend here?

But the biggest surprise came when I found my home town, Tulsa, Oklahoma. We're number 53 on the list and it showed us with 905,755 inhabitants - and predicts we will reach one million before the next census! Wow. Our neighbor down the turnpike, Oklahoma City, is number 44 with 1.2 million.

There was one other notable population loss. New Orleans, currently with 1 million people, has lost 21.74% of its population since 2000. In fact, it would probably be safe to say the exodus has happened since Hurricane Katrina.

It's a fascinating look at the country and, for me, took me back to Mrs. Trundle's fourth grade class for a moment before slingshotting me into the future.

Bottom of the Sixth

As we head into the seventh tomorrow, we'd like to welcome a new concessionaire to the Park - Bunnahabhain Whisky. Produced on the Isle of Islay (from whence also hail my other favorites, Bruichladdich and Laphroaig), Bunnahabhain means "mouth of the river". As their website describes the Bay of Bunnahabhain, "it is both picturesque and clement". Two qualities to be desired.

The funny thing is, I had always shied away from purchasing Bunnahabhain because the seafaring captain on the bottle planted in my mind that it might have a taste reminiscent of Old Spice. After one sip last night, I realized how wrong I had been.

It has that winey, briney, peaty flavor that all the Islay Scotches possess. It is milder than Lagavulin (or Laphroaig) but still lets you know that peat bogs have been visited. It is thoroughly enjoyable and we are pleased to offer it at the Park.

In Gaelic, the "bh" combination is pronouced like "v", and the "u" is like the short "oo" in "book", so I think it would be pronounced "Boo-na-hah-vn". But here's the slogan we'll be running on the scoreboard:

Bunnahabhain
Ask for it by name
(Yeah, right)

They tell me that focus-tested well, but I'm just not sure . . .

And with that, we bid you a pleasant evening.

Charlton Gave Up His Gun

I was saddened to hear that Charlton Heston died last night at the age of 84. Recalling one of his most famous quotes made while he was at the helm of the NRA, I had this image of the undertaker finally having to pry the gun from his hand. I hope so, anyway.

Mr Heston, like John Wayne and Ronald Reagan, was "a man's man". In fact, I remember thinking, during Vice President Gore's somewhat embarassing attempt to be remade a man under Naomi Wolfe's tutelage, "Why on earth do we need another 'alpha male'? We've already got 'The Omega Man'."

Playwright David Mamet's recent conversion to the "right" side also made me think of Mr Heston and Hollywood's snubbing of him as his politics began to stray off the reservation. I have already read of some critics having "second thoughts" about their earlier glowing reviews of Mr Mamet's plays. It's a bit pathetic, if you ask me. Maybe Mr Mamet can get together with Dennis Miller and compare notes.

In fact, it always amazes how little a Hollywood liberal has to do to be considered "brave" or "daring" or even "talented." Hollywood conservatives are held to a much higher standard, if they are addressed at all. Of course, like our politicians and pundits, I think that it's made us have to be stronger, more reasoned, efficient. So I guess we should take it as a blessing.

Mr Heston had quite a distinguished career. People remember him for his later dystopian films like The Omega Man (based on the same story as the current I Am Legend with Will Smith) and The Planet of the Apes, but he started out playing Moses and Michelangelo - and went up from there. He won the Oscar for his portrayal of "Ben-Hur". He was the president of the Screen Actors Guild and chairman of the American Film Institute. Putting more stock in action than words, he marched with Civil Rights leaders in the 1950s. He was elected the president of the National Rifle Association in 1998 and he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2003.

Mr Heston continued to speak out for the causes he believed in. He resigned from Actors Equity when they refused to allow a white actor to play the role of a eurasian in Miss Saigon. He thought it was "obscenely racist" and, given that he had marched shoulder to shoulder with Dr King numerous times, I'll defer to him on that. He also turned a few faces red when he, to protest the record company's promoting of violence and misogyny, read the lyrics from Cop Killer at a Time-Warner shareholders meeting. Mr Heston wrote in his book Into the Arena, "I'll surely never be offered another film by Warners, nor get a good review in Time. On the other hand, I doubt I'll get a traffic ticket very soon."

God bless you, sir, and may the Lord be with your family, especially Lydia, your wife of 64 years.

Top of the Sixth

And a good Sabbath to you! We are priviliged this weekend to host Dr Dale Bruner for our church's Celebration of Faith weekend. Dr Bruner is a very engaging speaker: at once winsome and entertaining, but always unflinching when it comes to the "tough" issues, and incredibly gifted at unpacking words and phrases in the Gospels, allowing their meanings to shine forth.

Many scholars consider his two-volume Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew to be the best around. And he is working on a Commentary on the Gospel of John, as well.

Dr Bruner captivated us for an hour last night with the story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:1-42). He told us something that I'd like you to think about today as you hear your pastor or priest. He said that one of his professors told him that "the Word" comes to us in three ways.

1. The incarnate Word of God: Jesus Christ
2. The printed Word available to all of us through canonical Scripture
3. The spoken Word which comes alive every time we hear it proclaimed through someone in tune with the other two facets of the Word

What a privilege we have! I know that our congregation is blessed that our pastor speaks the Word so powerfully and vibrantly to us - and I know that he has a deep and personal relationship with the incarnate Word, as well as a thorough knowledge and deep respect for the printed Word - so I think Dr Bruner is on to something.

Give a listen today to your pastor. See what you think.

Prepositions Can Really Hang You Up the Most

Trying to brush up on my German, I'm wondering if maybe it's easier to teach an old dog new tricks than it is to reteach a Hund an old language. Nouns, actually, aren't so bad. The objects or concepts they represent are pretty congruent across the board and it's mostly just a matter of memorization: a dog is a Hund is a perro is a chien. Other languages may have those (to me) unfathomable and arbitrary genders but, again, you just put your head down and memorize what uses el or la or der, die or das.

Similarly, verbs, for the most part, translate on a one-to-one basis. With German and English, we even get to take advantage of our shared roots on some of the action words: singen and bringen and trinken (to sing, to bring, to drink). And even some (but by no means all) of the colloquial phrases are similar: to ask a friend "Wie gehts?" is basically asking "How goes it?"

Prepositions, though. That's where I struggle. I read once of a study where researchers would show people a spectrum of light and ask them to draw a line where thought "yellow" or "blue" or "purple" was. Everyone was in the same ballpark, of course, but people from the same culture were usually right together with their choices.

That's kind of how I feel about prepositions. I know it's just a matter of memorizing, but I feel like I don't know the secret handshake. Sometimes you use the word you think you would and sometimes the usage requires something different. For example, "to" and zu are often interchangeable, as are "after" and nach, but if you tell someone, "We're travelling to Munich," you say "Wir fahren nach München." I'll leave it to another post to discuss whether this concept of going after something translates to a cultural aggresiveness, but it does get confusing for us accidental tourists.

And then there are the words that really deceive you. You might think that an and auf would correspond to "on" and "off", and in many cases you'd be right. But sometimes they mean the opposite of what you think: to put "the book on the table" is to put "das Buch auf dem Tisch."

You also have to worry about the dative case (which we don't distinguish in English) and that adds another layer of complexity. For example, if you're using the preposition vor (generally meaning "before"), your articles may change depending on whether you mean something is "before" in time or "before" in placement.

If it sounds like I'm griping, I don't mean to be. I actually enjoy learning new languages, but I'm just wondering if I'm getting a little too old. On the other hand:

Patience and perseverance
Made a bishop of his Reverence

Which sounds a lot better than "Beharrlichkeit macht frei", don't you think?

Middle of the Fourth

Hope your day is going great. I've already mentioned that Joe Torre's move to LA has renewed my interest in the Dodgers. And of course, Joe Girardi and the Yankees will always hold first place in my heart. So, I got to thinking about the whole League and came up with this hierarchy.

There's only one team I will actively root against (see the bottom of the list) but, if a game comes up and you ever want to know which team I'm rooting for, it will generally be the team that is higher up on this list.

The Absolute Favorites
Yankees
Dodgers
Tigers
Nationals

Special Places in the Heart
Cardinals
Phillies
Reds
Rockies
Royals

Others Teams I Follow
Cubs
Rangers
Padres

Generally Positive
Orioles
Indians
Brewers
Mariners
Twins

Indifference
White Sox
Angels
Pirates
Diamondbacks
Mets
Marlins
Rays

Overcoming Past Negatives
Braves
Blue Jays
Astros
Athletics
Giants

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Just Trying to Help

What with the current flap over Rev Jeremiah Wright (and with what I already know about the UCC denomination), I am here to offer my assistance to the United Church of Christ. If they'd like it, I hereby offer them this new slogan, free of charge. I think it accurately reflects their views:

The United - Church - of Christ:
Hey, two out of three ain't bad!

I make the same offer to the Episcopal Church in America - and pray that my beloved Presbyterians don't also need assistance!

Top of the Fourth

Redeeming the time . . .

Jim's son Jonathan started a Bible study/devotional time this school year. He invited some friends last fall and they started meeting every Wednesday morning at Jonathan's house. Now, some of the friends have invited other friends, and the group has grown to about 12. They have bagels and hot chocolate, share the Word, and then Jim drives them all to school.

This week, Jaclyn, our director of middle school youth at church, joined the group. That alone would have made it a special day (they all love Jaclyn), but something else happened to make it memorable. In the middle of breakfast, one of the kids threw up. Big time. As Jim and Jaclyn explained it yesterday, it went everywhere. It warmed my heart that it wasn't in Jaclyn's frame of reference to say something like "Linda Blair-style" (as I probably would have done), but rather to describe it with the more clinical "projectile".

Jim took care of the embarassed-to-tears child, calmed the others, and began to clean up. Jaclyn took the other kids into the den and continued with the study. What struck me, though, is that whatever they were studying that day, I'll bet the kids never forget it.

We learned in Property Law class that, before there was a written system for recording real estate transactions (and probably because there weren't that many people who could read then, anyway), the parties would go out on the property for the "Livery of Seisin" ceremony. They would invite as many friends as they could, in part to have a large pool of witnesses and in part to celebrate. The seller would pick up some dirt from the land and hand it to the buyer - and that is when "title" is deemed to have passed.

In order to mark the festivities, the buyer would throw a huge party, with food and drink and games for the children. Then, out of nowhere, they'd take the youngest child there and give them a whipping (current sensibilities forbid me from contemplating anything worse than a spanking, but who knows). The idea was that the day would be seared in the child's mind and, being the youngest person there, the child would theoretically be the person living the longest in case any questions about the transaction arose in later years.

Two thoughts. First: Does it make you think a little more kindly toward the realtors, lawyers, and closers in our present-day transactions - or do you wonder if we've really progressed?

More importantly, I think there is power in the unexpected to help us recall attending events. People in car wrecks often say that "everything seemed to be happening in slow motion." Everyone remembers where they were "when Kennedy was shot" or "when the Challenger blew up." Or, as Alan Jackson asks:

Where were you when the world stopped turning
that September day?
Out in the yard with your wife and children
Working on some stage in LA . . .

And we all know.

But I also think that Jim and Jaclyn were part of those kids' lives and development in a special way on Wednesday, because whatever they talked about is sure to stay with them for a long time to come. And it made me think of Ephesians 5:15 - 17:

Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil. So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.

It's a call for me to be more intentional in my living and my dealings with others.

Because you never know when somebody's going to throw up.

Bottom of the Second

Good night, all.

Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.

- Paul McCartney and John Lennon

Middle of the Second

I just remembered a dream (nightmare, maybe) I had last night.

I was trying to convince someone that we should make Logan's Run into a musical.

Yikes!

Of Monies and Mouths

Of course, many of us have known the following for a while.

The compassion of conservatives: Go here for George Will's article reviewing the findings of Professor Arthur C Brooks that conservatives give more than so-called "compassionate liberals". Says Mr Will:

If many conservatives are liberals who have been mugged by reality, Brooks, a registered independent, is, as a reviewer of his book said, a social scientist who has been mugged by data.

An example of Professor Clark's findings:

Although liberal families' incomes average 6 percent higher than those of conservative families, conservative-headed households give, on average, 30 percent more to charity than the average liberal-headed household ($1,600 per year vs. $1,227).

As Mr Will summarizes another finding:

People who reject the idea that "government has a responsibility to reduce income inequality" give an average of four times more than people who accept that proposition.

The generosity of the American people: Go here for Neal B Freeman's article about the generosity of the American people and American corporations.

A Question (and Statement) about Eggs

Here's the question: Is there an inverse correlation between the quality of an egg and the ease of peeling it once it's hard-boiled?

We bought some of "Jeremiah Cunningham's World's Best Eggs" from Coyote Creek Farm. They were organic, farm fresh, gathered and packed by hand, and "laid by happy hens living in organic pastures". I also figure those hens must be fast, too, beings as how they are roaming free near a creek known for its coyotes.

Anyway, they are very delicious, but when I have tried to peel them after hardboiling I make a mess of everything. And I have tried peeling them warm, cold, under running water, you name it.

Any ideas?

Oh, and the statement. As much as I like flaky sea salt, when you eat it with hard-boiled eggs, it makes you think you haven't gotten all the shell.

Food for thought. Or rather, thought for food, I guess.

Mugged!

Top of the Second

What would Psalm 100 look like in the form of worship?

1. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth.
2. Worship the Lord with gladness; come into his presence with signing.
3. Know that the Lord is God. It is he that made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
4. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. Give thanks to him, bless his name.
5. For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures for ever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

Here's one idea (each step corresponds with the verses above):

1. Take a moment to look at the world around you - God's creation. See how "even the rocks and stones sing". Sense your place in his world.
2. Be glad. If you don't think you are, take up the shield of faith to know that you can be even in the midst of present circumstances. Sing something.
3. Take a passage of scripture to heart. Then, take it to mind. Know it. Let the Word speak to you. As his people and his sheep, we have strayed. Acknowledge your missteps and receive forgiveness. And also know that the Shepherd loves his flock more than we can yet know.
4. Give thanks for all your blessings. Then, from that threshold of "his gates" (of "thanks, Lord, because . . ." of something), go deeper: enter "his courts" - bless the Lord for who he is and in all circumstances.
5. Go into the day secure in the knowledge of God's goodness, steadfast love, and faithfulness. Resolve to be the Lord's hands and feet today in bringing that goodness, love and faithfulness to others.

It's an idea I had this morning. I know you'll find something even better in the Psalm.

Send in the Clowns - and the Jokers

Today, Bernard Goldberg's book Crazies to the Left of Me, Wimps to the Right: How One Side Lost Its Mind and the Other Lost Its Nerve comes out in paperback. I assume he's giving a nod to the old Stealer's Wheel song. In a short interview I heard with Mr Goldberg, I believe the premise of his book is spot on: the left has absolutely gone over the cliff and, while conservatives may still believe in important things, Republicans have lost it.

My dad smoked from the age of 17 until he was 56. But from that day forward (he just threw his pack of Chesterfields away that day and never looked back, by the way), he was the most anti-smoker I know. I kind of feel the same way about Mr Goldberg. A reporter and media personality at CBS, cut his teeth in left-leaning journalism, socialist summer camps, Ben Shahn drawings on the wall . . . stop me before I make a complete fool of myself (for our younger readers, please see Annie Hall) - he now has that bit of missionary zeal about him. You go, Bernie!

Back Where it Belongs

If anyone was at McNellie's Pub last Sunday and noticed this gentleman using a certain mug in an unauthorized manner:

please rest assured that mug and rightful owner have been reunited. I do commend the perpetrator on his choice of beverage, however (Grimbergen Double).

Repurposing

Cleaning and rearranging the kitchen this morning, I hit on an idea. I have an old cigar humidor that hasn't held a stogy in ages, so I put Lindsay's tea bags in it. They look great - kind of like what they bring around at some restaurants (very British, don't you think?)

My question is: does anyone know if there is an optimum humidity for keeping tea? The humidor has a hygrometer and humidity source built-in, so we might as well use it if it would help.

Any ideas?

Top of the First

Look at all the stars. You look up and you think, "God made all this and He remembered to make a little speck like me." It's kind of flattering, really.
- Morgan Earp (Bill Paxton) in Tombstone (1993)