TS Eliot, my favorite poet, once said that "April is the cruelest month, breeding/Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain." He talks about the mysterious teasing of life from death that happens in April - the slow, creaking growth that comes after the dormancy of winter, painful and so very slow.
February is the cruelest month. My regrets, compounded by another year of experience and growth, come creaking to life on the first of the month. They lumber around like trolls, smashing and destroying for the sake of destruction, until about the end of the month. Then, troll-like, they go underground, hiding from the rising sun, until once again in August I hit a patch of regularly scheduled self-reflection.
Four years ago, February was a cold month. As I drove my wife to our midwife, I passed a car turned on its roof in the median on 270. I don't remember much about that day...fragments form a patchwork in my mind when I try.
Joy being unresponsive in the bathroom....a red sedan, on its roof, as I desperately try to head north, without flipping my own...the cold, professional nurse..Joy not responding again...being shoved into the waiting room...watching something about true crime, not knowing what's going on...hearing medical terminology that I understand, knowing that it applies to my wife and child...being told to get someone, cold nurse turned somber...
I hear that they're both alive, and it takes my breath away. I hear the mortality rate of what happened, and I lose my breath again. I'm wandering the halls of the hospital late at night, unable to call anyone. I'm hearing that my wife might still die. I saw her, and she scared me. The Who's Tommy is not the thing to watch in the ICU.
Finally seeing a coherent wife. Getting to see my daughter for the first time. Having faith for her future. Praying against fear. Stubbornly refusing to believe what the Groucho Marx-esque Pakistani doctor says. Believing, and seeing the fruit of that belief blossom.
One year, nine days.
Getting The Call. Driving to the wrong hospital. Getting to the right one. Believing for a miracle. Releasing her.
Calling my folks to let them know she's passed. Hearing my sobs mingle with my wife's in a cold operating room, as though they came from some other people.
February is the cruelest month.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
44th Confession
It's happened again. The terrible, incredibly painful tragedy of death once again rears its head too close to home.
When there's nothing to say, say nothing aloud, but let your actions speak volumes.
Hug your children more. Model wise choices, as far as you are able. Above all else, let them know that you love them.
It's February. Next time, a February recollection.
When there's nothing to say, say nothing aloud, but let your actions speak volumes.
Hug your children more. Model wise choices, as far as you are able. Above all else, let them know that you love them.
It's February. Next time, a February recollection.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
43rd Confession
February is my least favorite month of the year.
I've heard it taught that time was the first thing God blessed and set apart as holy, even before there was a definition of the word "holy." The same teacher said that anything that can be blessed can also be cursed; therefore, bless your time at every opportunity.
It seems to me that February is already the absolute low point of anyone's year. Lewis Black once raged that it was the grayest month; he also claims that Valentine's day came about because someone slit their wrists just to see color. While I enjoy a good rage comedian from time to time, I think Mr. Black unintentionally stumbled upon a point.
I know some people whose greatest artistic binges come when the leaves begin to turn in the autumn; for me, this February stuff is the complete antithesis. I feel more lethargic and torpid during this month than during any other.
Maybe it's the cold. Maybe it's the ice. Maybe it's the fact that spring isn't just around the corner quite yet.
Maybe it's Abby.
I don't know. But I do want to explore it this month, if y'all will stick around for it?
I've heard it taught that time was the first thing God blessed and set apart as holy, even before there was a definition of the word "holy." The same teacher said that anything that can be blessed can also be cursed; therefore, bless your time at every opportunity.
It seems to me that February is already the absolute low point of anyone's year. Lewis Black once raged that it was the grayest month; he also claims that Valentine's day came about because someone slit their wrists just to see color. While I enjoy a good rage comedian from time to time, I think Mr. Black unintentionally stumbled upon a point.
I know some people whose greatest artistic binges come when the leaves begin to turn in the autumn; for me, this February stuff is the complete antithesis. I feel more lethargic and torpid during this month than during any other.
Maybe it's the cold. Maybe it's the ice. Maybe it's the fact that spring isn't just around the corner quite yet.
Maybe it's Abby.
I don't know. But I do want to explore it this month, if y'all will stick around for it?
42nd Confession
Wow, it's been a long time since I've done this. Apologies to anyone who was hanging on my every update; January was a crazy busy month for me, and I think the new year is going to be quite interesting indeed.
Well, now that my mother in law is heading out on a Mexican cruise, I think there will be more time for me to sit and write, as well as a little more motivation, especially as February is one of my lest favorite months of the year. I have a feeling that this, above all other reasons, is unconsciously why I started this blog: to finally get some of my bottled-up feelings out on some kind of media, like a confessional booth. Which makes anyone who reads this a priest. Or a therapist. Which is kinda funny, really, if you stop and think about it.
So, some quick life updates: Joy is still doing Art school. We purchased a Wii. I'm very good at swordfighting on it. Edan is still adorable, but recently he's been taking to praying for a newborn child for the family. I'm not sure what brought THAT on, but I'm working on dealing with it.
We recently lost power to our house. There's nothing like an ice-storm blackout to show you how dependent you are on electricity. Especially when your whole house is powered by it.
Finally, I'm going to say that I'm sorry I haven't written for a while. Personally, I haven't heard too many complaints, so it hasn't been in the forefront of my "things to get done" list. So if you want more, let me know.
Well, now that my mother in law is heading out on a Mexican cruise, I think there will be more time for me to sit and write, as well as a little more motivation, especially as February is one of my lest favorite months of the year. I have a feeling that this, above all other reasons, is unconsciously why I started this blog: to finally get some of my bottled-up feelings out on some kind of media, like a confessional booth. Which makes anyone who reads this a priest. Or a therapist. Which is kinda funny, really, if you stop and think about it.
So, some quick life updates: Joy is still doing Art school. We purchased a Wii. I'm very good at swordfighting on it. Edan is still adorable, but recently he's been taking to praying for a newborn child for the family. I'm not sure what brought THAT on, but I'm working on dealing with it.
We recently lost power to our house. There's nothing like an ice-storm blackout to show you how dependent you are on electricity. Especially when your whole house is powered by it.
Finally, I'm going to say that I'm sorry I haven't written for a while. Personally, I haven't heard too many complaints, so it hasn't been in the forefront of my "things to get done" list. So if you want more, let me know.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
41st Confession
So someone asked me for some links that I like. Fine -- here ya go.
Angelo Inc. -- The best web comic out there. Ever. Go read it. Right now. NOW, I said!
Dracula's Full Lament -- The praise and worship song, done by a secular Muppet. Better than some things out there today.
Sham Rock - "Tell Me Ma" -- a great Irish techno song. Just kinda stumbled across it accidentally and fell for it.
Kongregate -- Whenever I need a good break, I head over and play a few rounds of whatever I feel like. All kinds of timewasters on this place.
Google -- More powerful than anybody realizes. My homepage.
Facebook -- My social networking drug of choice. I used to have a MySpace page, but then I turned thirty, and decided to take it down.
Hulu -- One of several online video services. My personal favorite for recent domestic television.
AMV Cake -- For those of you who don't know, AMV stands for Anime Music Video. This is a good example of it.
Common People AMV -- One of my favorite versions of this song, being done in a slightly more grown up style. It's a grown-up song, though, so it's all ok.
That's eight, and that's enough for right now. Comment me your favorites, and we'll do lunch or something.
Angelo Inc. -- The best web comic out there. Ever. Go read it. Right now. NOW, I said!
Dracula's Full Lament -- The praise and worship song, done by a secular Muppet. Better than some things out there today.
Sham Rock - "Tell Me Ma" -- a great Irish techno song. Just kinda stumbled across it accidentally and fell for it.
Kongregate -- Whenever I need a good break, I head over and play a few rounds of whatever I feel like. All kinds of timewasters on this place.
Google -- More powerful than anybody realizes. My homepage.
Facebook -- My social networking drug of choice. I used to have a MySpace page, but then I turned thirty, and decided to take it down.
Hulu -- One of several online video services. My personal favorite for recent domestic television.
AMV Cake -- For those of you who don't know, AMV stands for Anime Music Video. This is a good example of it.
Common People AMV -- One of my favorite versions of this song, being done in a slightly more grown up style. It's a grown-up song, though, so it's all ok.
That's eight, and that's enough for right now. Comment me your favorites, and we'll do lunch or something.
40th Confession
So tonight, I'm gonna take a quick look at Contemporary Christian Music. Only a quick look, because much more than that and I get sick to my stomach.
Most CCM has fallen into the sameness trap: it all sounds the same. It tries to be "fresh" and "pure" and "holy", when all it comes across as is sweet and ineffectual.
QUICK DISCLAIMER -- THIS DOES NOT APPLY TO ALL CCM. NOT ALL CCM GROUPS ARE SYRUPY SWEET SUBSTITUTES FOR "SECULAR" MUSIC. THERE ARE A FEW - VERY FEW - DECENT GROUPS OUT THERE.
When I look around for decent music, I look for a group that knows its sound and works it to the best of their abilities. U2 has anthem rock down pat and they play around with it in creative ways. Delirious has a similar sound, but they put it to use not to rock stadiums, but to challenge believers. Queen's songs changed the way that it meant to rock the world; Third Day has done something similar to the CCM world, without the extra makeup or the leotards. Although, I think Mac Powell would look lovely in the harlquinn...never mind. No I don't.
When I look at both the CCM and the "secular" world of music, all I hear and see is static. The local alternative station plays some decent stuff, but all of it sounds like the 80's or earlier. With a couple notable exceptions (Mumford & Sons and Cake), all the new, fresh, alternative sounds all are played out and tired, too.
Which means it's time for a new sound to come out of somewhere. I just hope that we recognize it when it happens.
Most CCM has fallen into the sameness trap: it all sounds the same. It tries to be "fresh" and "pure" and "holy", when all it comes across as is sweet and ineffectual.
QUICK DISCLAIMER -- THIS DOES NOT APPLY TO ALL CCM. NOT ALL CCM GROUPS ARE SYRUPY SWEET SUBSTITUTES FOR "SECULAR" MUSIC. THERE ARE A FEW - VERY FEW - DECENT GROUPS OUT THERE.
When I look around for decent music, I look for a group that knows its sound and works it to the best of their abilities. U2 has anthem rock down pat and they play around with it in creative ways. Delirious has a similar sound, but they put it to use not to rock stadiums, but to challenge believers. Queen's songs changed the way that it meant to rock the world; Third Day has done something similar to the CCM world, without the extra makeup or the leotards. Although, I think Mac Powell would look lovely in the harlquinn...never mind. No I don't.
When I look at both the CCM and the "secular" world of music, all I hear and see is static. The local alternative station plays some decent stuff, but all of it sounds like the 80's or earlier. With a couple notable exceptions (Mumford & Sons and Cake), all the new, fresh, alternative sounds all are played out and tired, too.
Which means it's time for a new sound to come out of somewhere. I just hope that we recognize it when it happens.
39th Confession
Here's hoping your new year is brilliant and fantastic, as well as completely wonderful!
As some of you know, I used to work at a call center. It wasn't the best job in the world, but then again, I'm not entirely qualified to say that, because what didn't work for me might work for someone else. I also have had my share of fun with people on the phone, both before I worked at the call center, and afterwards. Let's revisit some of that today, shall we?
First, most telemarketers/advertisers/people who cold call and annoy you have a script that they have to read. This is abasing, detracting from basic human dignity by attempting to analyze and measure something that ought not have been measured probably in the first place. Second, the person reading the script is usually being forced to work long hours for peanuts, not generally adding to their general good cheer. Third, most of them have just gotten off of a call where they've either been verbally abused, degraded, or cussed out - and they're dreading talking to you because they think you'll do the same thing.
So what should you do? My suggestion is one of three things, depending on how much time and love you have. Well, on how much love you have: if you have the love, you'll make the time. For people who don't have the time or the love, just thank them for calling and hang up. Say no more than that - it's the kindest way to deny them what they're shoving on you, and they're used to it by this time anyway. For people who have a little time, listen to their script, kindly thank them and tell them of your disinterest in a polite, courteous way. Of course, they're going to try again a couple of times - it's in their script. Listen, thank, and dismiss politely again, repeating as often as you wish.
The third option is to actually interact with them as though they were actual genuine human beings. Gently coax them out of their scripts by complimenting their accent. Answer their question with something totally outrageous. If you get them off their script, you give them a chance to breathe and be a human being in a dehumanizing position. At worst, you've just wasted their company's time (which means nothing to you, but a bigger paycheck for the agent); at best, it gives them something to talk about at the soda machine. "Hey, you'll never believe this call I had with this guy who calls his fish long distance. No, really!"
As some of you know, I used to work at a call center. It wasn't the best job in the world, but then again, I'm not entirely qualified to say that, because what didn't work for me might work for someone else. I also have had my share of fun with people on the phone, both before I worked at the call center, and afterwards. Let's revisit some of that today, shall we?
First, most telemarketers/advertisers/people who cold call and annoy you have a script that they have to read. This is abasing, detracting from basic human dignity by attempting to analyze and measure something that ought not have been measured probably in the first place. Second, the person reading the script is usually being forced to work long hours for peanuts, not generally adding to their general good cheer. Third, most of them have just gotten off of a call where they've either been verbally abused, degraded, or cussed out - and they're dreading talking to you because they think you'll do the same thing.
So what should you do? My suggestion is one of three things, depending on how much time and love you have. Well, on how much love you have: if you have the love, you'll make the time. For people who don't have the time or the love, just thank them for calling and hang up. Say no more than that - it's the kindest way to deny them what they're shoving on you, and they're used to it by this time anyway. For people who have a little time, listen to their script, kindly thank them and tell them of your disinterest in a polite, courteous way. Of course, they're going to try again a couple of times - it's in their script. Listen, thank, and dismiss politely again, repeating as often as you wish.
The third option is to actually interact with them as though they were actual genuine human beings. Gently coax them out of their scripts by complimenting their accent. Answer their question with something totally outrageous. If you get them off their script, you give them a chance to breathe and be a human being in a dehumanizing position. At worst, you've just wasted their company's time (which means nothing to you, but a bigger paycheck for the agent); at best, it gives them something to talk about at the soda machine. "Hey, you'll never believe this call I had with this guy who calls his fish long distance. No, really!"
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