Reformation Polka

This was performed before Bible Study today in anticipation of Reformation day this Friday. Luther would have been proud:

When I was just ein junger Mann I studied canon law;
While Erfurt was a challenge, it was just to please my Pa.
Then came the storm, the lightning struck, I called upon Saint Anne,
I shaved my head, I took my vows, an Augustinian! Oh…

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let’s start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

When Tetzel came near Wittenberg, St. Peter’s profits soared,
I wrote a little notice for the All Saints’ Bull’tin board:
“You cannot purchase merits, for we’re justified by grace!
Here’s 95 more reasons, Brother Tetzel, in your face!” Oh…

[Chorus]

They loved my tracts, adored my wit, all were exempleror;
The Pope, however, hauled me up before the Emperor.
“Are these your books? Do you recant?” King Charles did demand,
“I will not change my Diet, Sir, God help me here I stand!” Oh…

[Chorus]

Duke Frederick took the Wise approach, responding to my words,
By knighting “George” as hostage in the Kingdom of the Birds.
Use Brother Martin’s model if the languages you seek,
Stay locked inside a castle with your Hebrew and your Greek! Oh…

[Chorus]

Let’s raise our steins and Concord Books while gathered in this place,
And spread the word that ‘catholic’ is spelled with lower case;
The Word remains unfettered when the Spirit gets his chance,
So come on, Katy, drop your lute, and join us in our dance! Oh…

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation -
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let’s start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Not of the lunchroom elite

I wrote these sketches of creative non-fiction for my creative writing course.

I liked my lunch box when I first saw it. It was a square, metal lunch box with a red plaid design. My mother told me it was the same lunch box that my oldest sister Elizabeth had brought to kindergarten sixteen years before, and I was proud of that. Looking back, I wouldn't be too surprised if it were the same one my mother herself had used. It was vintage fifties - the kind that Beaver Cleaver took to school. But this was the nineties, and I didn't have it because it was cool. I had it because it was practical. That was the lunch box we had, so that was the lunch box I would use.

All was fine until I brought it to school and discovered that I couldn't open it. The old, stiff metal clasp defied my little fingers. Frustrated and embarrassed, I timidly enlisted the help of my classmates. I still remember the shame I felt when one of them, as unsuccessful as myself, informed me that it was an old fashioned lunch box - the kind one could only buy in an antiques store. It's strange to me now the alienation that lunch box inflicted on me for the days, or weeks that I used it. It wouldn't now. Little children are cruel. And I was insecure.

My mother bought me a new lunch box. It wasn't practical to have one I couldn't open.

It's a rough draft still. I don't think I've successfully communicated the alienation I felt in kindergarten at Washington - the lunch box was to be, in a way, symbolic of that. But then again, that falls apart because getting a new lunch box didn't improve my social situation much.

I'm not very pleased with the last four or five sentences of the last paragraph, but I'll worry about working through that later.

I'm not sure the last couple sentences are entirely just. I'm sure the fact that I couldn't open the lunch box wasn't the only reason my mother bought me a new one.

I perused google for vintage 1950s tin lunch boxes and found this which made me laugh:

In the grade school lunchrooms of the fifties and sixties, a lunch box carried more than the weight of a tuna fish sandwich and a carton of milk. A box adorned with Barbie, the Beatles, or Hopalong Cassidy placed the child squarely with the lunchroom elite, while a dull red plaid revealed a child who was obviously not in control of his or her parents.

And then there's this one, even less polished:

I switched schools six months into kindergarten. I had friends then and a new lunchbox, but lunchroom elitism wasn't over.

Heather's mom almost always closed her thermos too tightly. Heather was the strongest of us girls, and when she couldn't open it she'd pass it to the boys. They usually faired little better. Heather would raise her hand, and the teachers, who tired of this far sooner than the rest of us, would come to try their hand at opening the thermos. All of us students watched in eager anticipation of what would usually follow. Almost inevitably, they'd have to excuse her to take the thermos down to our principal, Mr. Prol, to open. We all watched her leave, enviously. I'm quite sure now that Heather never told her mom the thermos was closed too tightly. The prestige she gained among her peers was worth the cost of our teachers' disapprobation.

My mother, however unaware she was of the miseries a strange lunchbox gave me, was unfailingly conscientious about not closing my thermos too tightly whenever she packed me a hot lunch. The affliction that brought me alienation and embarrassment at Washington Elementary School never blessed me with distinction or prestige at my new school. I was not of the lunchroom elite.

I was hoping this excerpt were a little funnier - bring out the absurdity of what brings social status and distinction even among children. It could use work.

I'm finding this creative writing class increasingly difficult. Affirmation or criticism is always greatly appreciated!

For the Record

When I was twelve or so, there was one summer in British Columbia where the cousins played ultimate frisbee many evenings, and I was actually quite good at it. This was apparently some sort of fluke for it was short-lived. Except for a few wonderful moments in high school gym class once, it has been clear that my glory days began and ended on that field in Duncan. (Being short is not an advantage in this game, I might add.)

So I was greatly delighted and amused to find myself tagged in this picture taken during the College Group Fall Break Retreat ultimate frisbee game. I'm such an athlete. Pictures can't lie, right?

Cheap and Tawdry

Susanna put together the Noah's Ark puzzle. Erin remarked, "Oh, I'm so interested in religious evangelical iconography!" I was greatly amused.

Oriental Trading catalog brought much-needed levity to an exhausted suite last night.

There are four pages of "Happy Birthday Jesus!" materials (Without a comma. It kills me.)
including party hats, rubber duckies, and a six foot tall vinyl jumbo inflatable birthday cake.

Two pages of "joyful gifts with a resounding message of faith". Sound the Horn, He is Born!

Here's a favorite: Nativity magic cubes. Huh?

Angel Rubber Duckies.
Nativity Rubber Duckies.
Jingle for Jesus Bell Pins - These jolly resin and metal pins are a fun way to wish your Bible group "Merry Christmas"
"Jesus Loves You Snow Much Jingle Bell Ornaments"
Religious candy.

Wow.

It covers my next-best alternative.

This might be my least favorite place on campus. I face this stairway every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 11:35 on the way to my microeconomics class. My body, weighed down by a heavy backpack and weak, especially this week, with sleep deprivation, starts hurting by the fifteenth step, and then I've still got ten to go. But I've decided that the marginal benefits of taking this class far outweigh this marginal cost. I'm not sure what I did before I could throw terms into conversation like "opportunity costs" and "next-best alternative" and "weighing the marginal costs and benefits" and "trade-offs" and "substitutes" and "comparative advantage." It's fun. I must be a nerd.

I was wait-listed for this class, but Dr. P.J. Hill was willing to write me in after I visited him in his office. I admitted I didn't "need" the class. There are "substitutes", you see, but I'm so glad he let me in anyway. He's such an interesting, engaging professor. I'm really grateful to be having this class at this time. He's spent a few class periods talking about the economic crisis. I'm not as clueless as I would be if I weren't in that class.

He's also just plain cool. He owns a ranch out in Montana that he will shortly be retiring to. Last week came to class dressed in carhartts, flannel shirt, cow-boy boots, and hat and lassoed the late comers. Then we learned about why a rancher and a farmer would benefit most from trade with each other if they specialized, thereby making the most of their comparative advantage.

The opportunity cost of writing more is growing too high as there are reading assignments I should get to.

Free Delivery! See page 2 for details.

I seem to have gotten on a Christian mailing list for parents of small children. I don't know how this happened.

A few weeks ago I got a little package in CPO that claimed "Great Bible Adventures for Kids!" Inside was a puzzle of Noah's Ark with a few sentences of the story on the back of each square puzzle piece. Fun.

On Tuesday it was a catalog for some Christian publishing company.

Today it was "Highlights Puzzle Buzz - Keeps your Child Happy, Busy, and Feeling Proud!" and "Oriental Trading: Celebrating 75 years of fun. Inspirations: A Celebration of Faith." This last catalog boasts "Heaven-sent Values to Celebrate and Inspire!" I kid you not. Do you think I should buy Mini "Happy Birthday Jesus" Bubble Bottles? They'll make great stocking stuffers. Or perhaps a classic executive pen with cross medallions for a "thoughtful gift."

I see my CPO box is full and I think I have letters and pack slips galore. Alas.
But this is fun too.

This is new.

Sometimes I'm a klutz. I don't have the best depth perception, so I not infrequently hit the wall as I walk around a corner or knock my elbows on a doorknobs. And sometimes I trip over myself, and my fingers aren't always very nimble. But yesterday was the first time I ever mixed my hands up with my feet. I'm taking organ lessons and just started using the pedals. All is well with my right hand, but, for some reason, my left hand and my feet get all scrambled. I start playing with my hand what my feet should be doing, and the feet run off and doing something else.
It's humbling.

Psalm 90:17

On Thursday I learned that Telly has graduated and is working with a blind woman in Massachusetts! It had been nearly seven weeks since I heard at Family Day that I should be learning within a couple weeks of her graduation - long enough to have another nightmare about her rejection. Apparently the instructor I talked to in August was mistaken, or that match didn't end up working out. I guess I'll never know, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that she is now the eyes of a blind woman in Boston!

Here are the letters and a picture of Telly in harness. The first is a form letter, the second from her instructor.


Dear Carol,

I am happy to inform you that Telly has completed her training at The Seeing Eye. She has had many hours of instruction to become a dog guide and I know how proud you are of her.

A month prior to leaving The Seeing Eye, Telly was placed with a 58 year old woman from Massachusetts, who is self-employed. Telly is her second dog guide from The Seeing Eye and I know she will succeed in the challenging life ahead as a working guide and companion for her new owner.

Enclosed is a picture of Telly in harness taken at The Seeing Eye. I know that you will be delighted to have the snapshot as a memento of the time you shared together.

On behalf of all of us at the Seeing Eye, I want to thank you for raising Telly. Your role in The Seeing Eye Puppy Raising Program is essential to the success of our school, and the patience, love and devotion that you provided established the background upon which her skills as a dog guide were built.

Again, we thank you for the outstanding job that you have done in preparing Telly for a career as a dog guide. Through your work with her, you have brought independence, mobility, and joy into another blind person's life.

Sincerely,
Douglas S. Roberts
Director of Programs


Dear Carol,

I am very proud to inform you that Telly has been placed with a woman in Boston. Telly's new owner is retired, but still lives a very active lifestyle with her family, and within her community. She is thrilled with Telly and her guide work.

Telly was an absolute pleasure to train. She was always eager and willing to work and learn. She understood the importance of the work, which she went about in her own cautious and caring way. I greatly appreciated both her sensitive and gentle nature, and the trust she showed me. Telly was always up for whatever the daily challenge may have been in training. I enjoyed every day with this special girl.

I would like to thank you and your family for all of the time and love you dedicated to raising Telly. You should be extremely proud of your efforts and of Telly. She has worked very hard to become a great Seeing Eye Dog.

Sincerely,
Brian McKenna

Son of Encouragement

I'm making up for lost time.

I have another canine friend. This five month old Goldendoodle puppy belongs to the Giesers. They're paying me to do a little walking and training. His name is Barnabas, though most everyone but me calls him Barney. He's the sweetest thing.

This is so cool!

This morning in my Creative Writing class, we read this poem by George Herbert.

A Wreath

A wreathed garland of deserved praise,
Of praise deserved, unto thee I give,
I give to thee, who knowest all my wayes,
My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live,
Wherein I die, not live: for life is straight,
Straight as a line, and ever tends to thee,
To thee, who are more farre above deceit,
Then deceit seems above simplicitie.
Give me simplicitie, that I may live,
So live and like, that I may know, thy wayes,
Know them and practise them: then shall I give
For this poore wreath, give thee a crown of praise.


Notice the way the form meets the subject matter. The end of each line is repeated at the beginning of the next to bring to mind the way boughs would be overlapped and bent into the form of a wreath. And (this is so cool!) the last line parallels the first line. The poem comes full circle, like a wreath, so to speak.

Wow.

I like this one too.

Alexander Graham Bell
has shuffled off this mobile cell.
He's not talking any more,
but he has a lot to answer for.
~ Henry Taylor

"shuffled off this mobile cell" is, of course, an allusion to the line in Hamlet's famous soliloquy, "when we have shuffled off this mortal coil."