I Couldn't Help Myself

I had to post this, it is hilarious.




Click here:

The Best Focus Group Ever

Taking a Deep Breath

I found this wonderful piece over at The Episcopal Café, Advice for Electiontide. In my haste to speak (or write) my mind (from my bias) I found this message by Sara Miles most humbling.

Read it here


In the meantime,

Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Personal Destiny & The Common Good

This a bit long but I think an important topic anyway, especially in light of our country's current financial turmoil.

Plus it outlines an interesting convergence of listening, reading and talking that I have been a part of in the last 24 hours.

Stephen and I heard a great interview yesterday on NPR’s Talk of the Nation. Neal Conan interviewed Peter Gosselin, a national economics correspondent for the Los Angeles Times and the author of High Wire: The Precarious Financial Lives of American Families.

Also yesterday my sister and I were conversing (long distance) on the topic of “individualism” in America and how that fits in with the idea of community and the common good.

Then today I read a portion of an interview of Joe Biden by Katie Couric. In this part of the interview, Biden stated “the people who do not need a new tax cut should be willing, as patriotic Americans, to understand the way to get this economy back up on their feet is to give middle class taxpayers a break.”

Upon hearing this and thinking of my conversation with Kay, I thought about a portion of the TOTN interview where Gosselin takes us back to our countries beginnings. Here is an excerpt from the forward to Gosselin’s book High Wire: The Precarious Financial Lives of American Families.

(emphasis mine)

To begin to understand this paradox—how the United States as a whole could have grown richer while individuals and families have become financially less secure—and to begin to see whether the American promise endures, it is useful to look to the past, in this case to the distant past, New England in 1620. In that year, as the small sailing ship the Mayflower rode at anchor off the coast of Cape Cod, William Bradford and his fellow Pilgrims faced a crisis: Winter was coming on. Blown off course by storms, they would have to settle far north of their intended destination. And they faced the unexpected prospect of mutiny. Although most of us think of the Mayflower colonists as a tight-knit band of religious dissenters, in fact many on the ship did not share the Pilgrims' religious views; they had been recruited only to help finance the voyage. Now, some of these "Strangers," as the Pilgrims called them, muttered about going their own way, threatening a potentially fatal schism. So Bradford called a meeting. The result was the Mayflower Compact, a terse but unequivocal agreement to "combine ourselves together into a civil body politic" that would create such laws and regulations "as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the Colony, unto which we promise all due submission and obedience." Forty-one of fifty men on board signed on behalf of themselves, their wives, and their children.

The colonists who founded Plymouth Plantation were in the New World for all sorts of reasons—some to pursue religious beliefs, others to seek fortune, still others to enhance what fortunes they already had. And they were a people not much given to compromise. Yet under the pressure of brutal necessity—as many as half would die within a year—they agreed to yield some part of their individual autonomy to the group. More important, they agreed to a certain mutual responsibility for the well-being of one another, even if meeting that responsibility might sometimes clash with their private interests.

This implicit bargain lay at the heart of virtually everything that followed. The Revolution, the Constitution, the rise of a huge and diverse nation, all rested upon a common understanding: The new society would be dedicated to individual, not collective, dreams, but everyone would nevertheless accept some responsibility for each other and for the common good.

Strangely, however, over the past twenty-five years or so, the bargain struck aboard the Mayflower and extended forward through almost four hundred years of often turbulent history has begun to unravel. The basic social contract on which American society has always rested—no matter how imperfectly—has begun to change. The inherent balancing of competing interests that lay at the heart of the bargain has been upset.

The old idea that, even as we pursue our personal destinies, we owe an obligation to each other, to a "civil body politic," and to a "general good," has been shunted aside. In its place, wrapped in the economic doctrine of free markets and the moral precept of personal responsibility, stands a new first principle: Each of us is now expected to forge our own future, free to rise or fall as our talents and luck may dictate.

Any thoughts?

The interview with Peter Gosselin can be heard here

Passing Judgment

This last Sunday’s epistle was from Romans 14. I highly recommend reading it.

Romans 14: 1-12

Note verse 4;
Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Master is able to make him stand.

While this was being read in church Sunday I was thinking of an article I had recently read on michellemalkindotcom. Yes, I admit it, I try and read everything I can from as many perspectives as I can. It helps keep me balanced. It also infuriates me and often challenges me.

Her post was regarding the joint appearance by the two Presidential candidates at the Ground Zero on September 11.

Here it is, in part. Please note that I do not under any circumstances support Ms. Malkin or her opinions.

Ground Zero etiquette: A tale of two roses
By Michelle Malkin • September 11, 2008 10:41 PM

It’s a small gesture, but gestures matter at the hallowed grave site of so many murdered innocent Americans.

Barack Obama flings a memorial rose at Ground Zero like he’s a kid tossing pennies into a fountain at the shopping mall — or a spectator tossing flowers at a bullfight.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

(Clueless NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg copies him.)

By contrast, John McCain and his wife kneel and gently, somberly, place their roses down at the foot of the 9/11 tribute.

I was struck by her arrogant certainty. I am curious how this can be. Here she claims to know exactly what was in the hearts of all of the people she named. The truth is that her descriptions are based upon her own biases - one was flinging, one was gently placing. By her description of these gestures, Malkin passes judgment and wants you to do the same. And just as she does, she wants you to surmise the intentions and define the inner reflections of each of the participants.

I was saddened by what she wrote, but more I was saddened by the fact that this is what we do in our daily lives and encounters. We so easily heap criticism on one another. Those who are different from us and those we fear. Blogging about this is cathartic, because I find myself so often in judgment of others based upon nothing, absolutely nothing, but appearances.

Lord, have mercy.

Just for Fun - A Lullaby

My neighbor always forwards me random e-mail. Some are crazy, some are funny and some are way over my head. She gets them from all over the world and most of them are quite clever.

I know most people immediately delete if "fwd" shows in the subject line. I on the other hand try and give them a chance.

This one is too sweet to pass up and I thought I would share it with you all.

Enjoy.

Hope is the Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

After Wednesday night I began to think that I might be losing track of what is important. I posted my rant and spent the next day feeling a bit anxious. What I realized is that I might be getting too caught up in the outcome. Of course I am looking for change but I know that neither party can really affect true change. That has to come from within each of us as individuals and flow outward into our homes, our communities and into the world.

I don’t want to loose sight of what is most important in all of this and that is:

.... whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, do; and the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8

Stephen wrote this to a friend of ours and it seems appropriate for this conversation;

Due to a project crisis at work (what else is new), I was in the City until about 6:30. Overheard on the Embarcadero platform was a conversation between two 30-ish Caucasian women and a 20-ish African-American man. the gist of the conversation was their perceived reality which included the idea that within a few years, either Biden or Palin would be president because either Obama would be assassinated or McCain would die in office. Their recommendation was to vote for the Vice-Presidential candidate you thought would make the best president. How's that for optimism amongst the working class?

I wish candidates could take the high road and stay out of the mud, but when they do, they're perceived as being weak, not ethical. I'm afraid Obama is going to have to get his hands dirty. Maybe that's one reason he has Biden on the ticket, but McCain, et al, are going to do whatever they can to diminish him.

The irony is that the Republicans preach optimism, but when Obama talks about hope, he's criticized for being an empty suit.

I am not proud of my country. We have gone to war against an enemy who wasn't there, ignored the enemy who is there, turned our backs on the victims of genocide and allowed our own citizens to suffer if it enabled a corporation to benefit. The democrats are as culpable as the republicans.

While I'm old enough to remember John Kennedy, I wasn't attuned enough (I was 6 when he ran for office) to understand anything he stood for. I have since come to understand that he offered hope to a nation, was firm in national defense and was more fiscally conservative/responsible than GWB. He is revered today, in part because he was martyred, but what is wrong with a presidential candidate offering a little hope.

We're all adults; we know what's promised on the campaign trail seldom becomes reality, but I'll take hope any day. After all, according to 1 Cor. 13, there abides faith, hope and love. Well, I don't have much faith in my government, and I don't think my government has much love for me, so I guess I'll go with hope.

Warning: My First Political Rant

I am not sure I really want to put anything to political on my blog, although I don’t mind sharing some of my faith values. I am not real savvy politically and probably not very savvy spiritually either, depending on whom you ask. In both cases I know what resonates with me and it’s from there I try and grow my faith and practice my life and practice my faith and grow my life.

Those who know me, know that I hate labels. So, a disclaimer: I am registered independent and favor no party over another.

Right now, I am responding to Ms. Palin's speech that I watched on TV earlier tonight, written for her and well delivered to be sure, but the content:

Rude, condescending, sarcastic, mocking and while I might have been on the fence (re: my vote) before, I no longer am.

I was embarrassed and outraged at her tone and at the content of her speech. Talk about business as usual.

Stephen reminds me that it is her job to attack the other side. I ask, how does this help the American people?

The RNC convention is in St. Paul, Minnesota. If "country first" is their mantra, why did the I-35 bridge collapse in Minneapolis, MN in 2007? My sister and niece could have been hurt, or worse in that collapse. The infrastructure of our country is in the toilet and all they can say is country first. A major contradiction if you ask me. Where are the resources to protect and improve our own country? Are all our resources spent protecting us from Islamic terrorists? What about the terror of our broken cities and states?

Eight years of Republican administration has done nothing to put "country first" in our own Country. Do Mr. McCain and Ms. Palin have a plan to address that, or are they grandstanding?

I haven’t even addressed the double standard regarding an “out of wedlock” pregnancy in the daughter of an “abstinence only” preaching mother. And how it is a “bonus” (quote; Levi Johnston’s mother) because they were going to marry anyway?

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2008/09/01/politics/p091657D38.DTL

I just can’t help but think what they would say if the “opponent’s” family would have faced the same “crisis?” Notice these other contradictions:

http://www.thatminoritything.com/?p=53193

And while they are at it, trying to legislate everything “moral” for everyone in America and, dare I say, the world, they want (and rightly so) to keep their personal family matters private. Again another double standard, don’t you think? If it is their family, it is private. If it is your family, it is public.




In the mean time I will leave the experts to address the contradictions and misrepresentations in Ms. Palin’s speech.

Right now, I am a bit upset and quite frankly embarrassed to be an American, plus my cat just died on Saturday, so pardon my rant.

Having mentioned above that I am not sure I really want to put anything to political on my blog, I have obviously crossed that line.

Thanks for reading and may God have mercy on us all.

Rest in Peace Nay Nay

Stephen wrote this beautiful little tribute to our dear sweet cat. She died last Saturday morning.



Renée left us today, August 30, 2008. After a short and sudden illness, we made the difficult decision to mercifully euthanize her before she had to endure more discomfort, suffering and pain. She was a wonderful and gregarious cat, loved by all who knew her. She wanted to meet everyone who came to the house and never turned down the opportunity to get her belly rubbed. She enjoyed sleeping in her basket in the garden window and being on the deck, especially when the house was hot and it was cool outside. She also enjoyed the occasional snack and some tuna straight from the can.

Now she’s somewhere in a large garden where there is a cool breeze, comfortable grass to lay on and a never ending supply of good eats. Be well Renée, we miss you.




She used to come when you called her, just like a puppy. Her personality was priceless. In addition to the basket in the garden window, she had a basket under my desk. I especially miss her sitting there at my feet while I worked. Yes, we sure do miss you Nay Nay.




Iris is still with us and we hope she has happy memories too.

280 Indian Road

Well, as my little blog is growing, I find I am adding more and more, not only from my own thoughts and feelings, but also bits and pieces from my life and those memories which have informed my life.

My dad, as he was aging and before macular degeneration completely took over his eye sight, began writing. He liked to think of these writing (on yellow lined paper pads) as his "memoirs" and I only wish he could have written more. I have about a half dozen handwritten pages of his memories. I am pleased to share this one with you all.

Some of you know my Grandma Mimi's house as it was when were children. For others, here is my dad's recollection of this house his dad built, here in his is own words


My Dad’s “Dream House:

At the age of 8 or 9 (I’m not positive of my age) my dad started building on a beautiful parcel of land in the City of Piedmont. It was 3.5 acres facing on both La Salle Avenue and Indian Road. It was heavily wooded with oak on the east and the land sloped and was quite open to the west. In between it was level and it was here that the house was built. It was dad’s “dream house,” which in later years was designated a showplace.

The house was three stories with a full basement and living quarters for a man servant. A large laundry area was also located in the basement. I remember a heavy table with all sorts of pads and an ironing sheet. The table was suitable for ironing bed sheets.

The ground floor consisted of a large foyer or entry hall, to the left was the library, Straight ahead through French doors was the living room, a room of ample size. Another pair of French doors led to the dining room. Off the dining room was the breakfast room, the butler’s pantry and the kitchen with the 8 burner and 4 oven Magic Chef creation, then the vegetable pantry and larder.

The second floor was reached via a formal staircase and contained a guest room, master bathroom, Mother’s room, Dad’s room and bathroom. My sister Betty’s room and bath, a maids room and bath, plus sewing room.

The third floor was the domain of me and my brothers. We each had a room, four bedrooms, a bath and sleeping porch. The décor was strictly masculine. Except for the bathroom and sleeping porch, the entire floor was constructed of redwood board and batten.

Dad and Mother entertained in great fashion. A formal dinner at times, countless casual parties, tremendous “open house”get togethers at Christmas or New Years. My brother’s and I were able to share in any and all of these functions.

Mother and Dad were very proud of their home and the beautiful gardens surrounding it. Dad was a rhododendron and azalea fancier and quite possibly had the largest privately owned garden of this type in California. He also planted three five foot redwood trees in the center of the garden. Those trees now standing some 50 or 60 feet in height are living landmarks of 280 Indian Road, Piedmont.

Mother and Dad both passed away in the house. Dad in 1940 and Mother in 1963.

Our GrandDog Nigel

Justin asked us to dog sit Nigel last week while he toured Disneyland with his friends.
It was great fun! Iris was aloof as ever so you won't see her in any of these photos. Note that Renee and Nigel found a way to peacefully co-exist together.

Art Inspires

Stephen and I visited the Legion of Honor Museum yesterday. We were there for the exhibit;

Women Impressionists:
Berthe Morisot, Mary Cassatt, Eva Gonzalès, Marie Bracquemond

What a glorious collection of work. These women were contemporaries of Manet, Monet, Degas, Pissaro and Renoir.

Here is a description I wrote down during the visit at the museum.

“All four women were acquainted with their Impressionist colleagues and gained acceptance into the group. However, once achieving the status of professional artists, they still had to negotiate the conventional notions of proper behavior for women of their class. They were not allowed to be seen in public without a chaperone or to enter the cafe-concerts or bars that their male counterparts relied heavily upon for their colorful stock characters. Thus, whereas their male peers explored a wide range of subjects drawn from everyday life, social convention largely confined these women artists to their domestic environment, and their subjects reflected their perception of the world from within this limited sphere.”

Looking at these amazing masterpieces, what struck me was how in spite of the obvious talent represented, the struggle for equality has been a long hard battle for women for a very long time and I often loose track of that fact as I live out being female in the 20th /21st century. Living within the confines of their culture these women still made such a huge difference and can be an inspiration today to women and girls everywhere. What a blessing!

Here is a wonderful quote:

“I shall obtain independence only by persevering and by making not a secret of my intention of emancipating myself.”
Berthe Morisot
1841 – 1895

Her painting La psyché (The Mirror) is pictured above.

If you live in the San Francisco Bay Area don’t miss this exhibit. It closes September 21.
http://www.women-impressionists.org/

the english language is missing a word....

Stephen’s niece Michelle (his brother’s daughter, not my brother’s daughter. Yes he has two nieces named Michelle). Anyway, his brother’s daughter is an English teacher. She told Stephen this story: At some point she was helping a student with a paper where he was using the word “developed” several times in his story. She reviewed his work and tried to encourage him to expand his vocabulary. She suggested that he try and come up with another descriptive word to enhance his paper without overusing the word “developed.” She offered some alternatives including the word “evolved" which would have maintained the integrity of his story and the assignment. He responded that he was not allowed to use that word. Evolved??? That's right, evolve as in evolution???

Yes, there are people out there who will not use the complete English language because, why???

Breaking the law, oops....

As it happens, today is the anniversary of Earl Zindar's death.
I wish his family and loved ones peace as they remember his life.

And so it seems that I can not link his music tune to my blog, copyright law you know.
So I removed the link and now you all must get the music for yourself. Bottom line I need a BMI license, way too much money for what I want to do. Too bad.

http://zindars.com/

By the way, while I was trying to find a way to play this legally I sent a note to Anne, Earl's wife.
I wanted to see if she had any ideas about this. I received a wonderful e-mail reply from her and she asked about Justin.
Very nice that she remembered him. Yes Anne, Justin is just fine and he is a wonderful son.

I Always Think of You (for my son Justin)

One of the great joys of being self-employed and working from home is being able to listen to anything I want to during the day. Whether it is NPR, or some sermon podcast, or something in my iTunes, I get to choose and sometimes I listen to nothing at all. On Friday I was working and decided to look at my iTunes play list. I decided to play some music Justin got for me back in 2004. The artist is Earl Zindars, The music is some really beautiful jazz. The albums I have are And Then Some and The Return.

In early January 2005 a small package addressed to me arrived in the mail. Inside were the above named CDs with a post-it note attached. Justin told me the story; at the time he was working at the Masonic Avenue Good Guys in San Francisco. As part of his job and sometimes just to be helpful, he sometimes went to customer’s homes to help them with their audio and/or video systems. Earl and his wife Anne came into the store and bought a TV from Justin and he went to their home to set it up for them. While Justin was there, the topic of music came up and Earl asked Justin what kind of music he liked in the jazz genre. Justin mentioned his favorite, Bill Evans. Earl went on to mention that he had worked with Bill and that they had been friends over the years and that Bill was at his wedding. He gave Justin two CDs. Justin enjoyed the music and contacted Earl to see if he could buy another copy of the same recordings for me. That is how I came to receive the recordings and Earl’s note.



Friday as I was listening, I got to thinking about how I was introduced to Earl Zindar’s music through Justin. I did a google search and I saw that he had passed away in August 2005 just 8 months after sending me the CDs and the note.


Reading about his life was pretty neat and I felt a bit nostalgic about the whole thing. Although I like jazz, I am not a true aficionado but I know what I like and I like Earl Zindars. Be sure and check him out.

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2005/08/19/BAGAREA6QJ1.DTL


http://www.zindars.com/

Happy Birthday Mother

Helen Elaine Kern Markwart
July 31, 1921 - May 6, 1999.

Shortly after mother died I was fortunate to be able to join a mother/daughter grief group. This was a wonderful experience where adult daughters shared the sadness and loss due to the death of our mothers. Each of us brought a unique experience to the group. I was and am grateful for the experience.

During the group I often doodled in my journal while listening to the others share their thoughts and feelings. In spite of the sometimes strained relationship I had with her I was able to think of many things for which I am thankful that I had the mother I had.



During the early days of my grieving, I spent time making a lamp shade with old buttons that she had. Doesn't every mother have a collection of old buttons? Touching all those buttons, many I remember from my childhood, was a healing experience. Sewing each one, one at a time, onto the shade was meditative as well. Later I found the perfect lamp base and the whole thing is magnificent. After I die, I wonder who will want mother's beautiful lamp.

I edited my "I figured it out today" post

And looking back on it I realize that this is how I live my life, looking inward and upward and a little outward. And then the dreaded word came up:

Introspection; that's i-n-t-r-o-s-p-e-c-t-i-o-n.

Then I was reminded of the time I was labeled; "introspective to a dangerous degree" by a less than reliable source.

Remember that? I say pshaw, that's not me. Introspective, yes. Dangerous? I don't think so.

Besides, I already let you in on my secret in my very first post back on on September 1, 2005. Yea Socrates.

Any thoughts out there on introspection? or sin? or????

and more......

I already mentioned that it seems if you go looking for the worst in life, you will find it. It has always been there in every age and generation. But are we to focus on it?

I prefer to face the truth about life and at the same time try and see the good in my fellow human beings.

For example, after the wedding of Jenna Bush I began trying to see her father as a dad instead as a President. It really helps when you stop to humanize those with whom you disagree.

Disclaimer: I am an independent/moderate politically, neither conservative nor liberal. Those labels are simply too limiting in this complex and fallen world.

This life often has its challenges but God is with us and all will be well.

Psalm 30:5 - For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

I figured it out today, I think...

It seems if you go looking for the worst in life, you will find it. Sure there is all the evil out there (in the culture) but what about the good?

Warning: I am not a trained theologian, although some say those who seek after God are all theologians. Here are some ideas of mine;

Sin is a noun, it is not a verb (an action word). Sin is a condition. Separated from God and God’s desire for our communion with God and each other, with ourselves and with the environment.

The verbs, (to make) a mistake, to err, to (commit) a crime, etc. those actions are results of the separation and often speak to our “human nature.” I don’t think of those actions as “sin” in and of themselves but actions we choose as a result of our sinful/separated state.

I think infants are born innocent (never having yet made a mistake) but still born in the separated state to parents also in the separated state whom God placed in their particular time in history. If you are reading this, then you like me are here and now. This is our particular time in history.

For me pursuing God and the purpose to life all the while recognizing God's longing for me, are daily steps I take to help me narrow my separation gap.

Does this make any sense? It may be a simplistic way to look at the subject. But that is ok for now, because I am still working on it, all of it.

Father's Day 2008

This morning Stephen asked me to describe my happiest memory of my father (1915-2001).
We were driving across the Bay Bridge on our way to Grace Cathedral for the 11:00 Liturgy.
On our way there we always pass by Tadich Grill on California St. I imagined it being 1938 and Dad having lunch there.
A block from the Cathedral is the Mark Hopkins Hotel. I imagined Dad there with his friends for an evening at the Top of the Mark.

Fast forward circa 1958 - I said that for me my happiest memory was sitting on the arm of the big black chair watching him work a crossword puzzle and listen with him to the Lucky Lager Dance Time radio program. I sat on the arm or sometimes at his feet, while wafts of smoke would drift from his lit cigarette and envelope me in a haze of who he was and what he enjoyed. I remember it as though it were yesterday and to this day I too love crosswords and the music of the 30's, 40's and 50's. Thanks Dad.

Happy Father's Day Dad I thought of you today. I love you.

Four more days

An exciting adventure ahead for us. An anniversary trip? Sure, we have only been married five years. That is 35 in dog years and plenty of reason to celebrate. After what we have been through, celebrate? You bet! I will say, a lesser woman would have drowned in all the sludge of denial that exists in the Rockies.

We leave for London and beyond on 28 September. Our gift to one another.