A musical history of Rush--on film

Why is this movie not coming to the Seattle Metro??? Rush fans, get together and bring this movie here. I want to see this on the big screen! Strange, I'm writing a piece of my own personal history related to Rush, and then I find out about this new documentary last night. It gives me the chills.



I'm am thrilled for the idea that my brothers and/or friends come join me to see Rush on August 7th.

Desperate Housewives--Usually Enjoyable, Occasionally Inspirational

The television tides have turned. Years ago in our more struggling days, my dear wife and I would enjoy a few days at her parents house because they had a slew of cable television so that we could meet the visual equivalent of Cheetos to the human diet. Feels good going down, but contributes little if anything to my overall health. These days, we have cable in our household, and my in-laws have removed many choice in worship attendance at the cathode cathedral. Because of Chuck Klosterman, I have lowered some of my disdain for television and recognize that I don't need to be a culture snob about it--and recognize it for its contribution. I can remember all the while that moderation is more important for my television diet and recognize its artistic value rather than attempting to set myself above culture for my own gratification. I come to my in-laws during this Christmas decompression time and know I don't have to watch television for it's own sake.

I don't watch Desperate Housewives because it's a great show. I watch it because it is the only show that suits my dear wife and I after a long Sunday at work. We enjoy the characters (even if they are caricatures) and the twists, though the stories on the whole seem weak.

Tonight's episode presented a storyline for which I was surprised (in a good way) and not by a sharp plot twist. Lynette is faced with the possibility of one of her unborn children living with a disability. Whereas the other dreams highlighted in the episode often reinforce the caricatures in the show, Lynette's character is given more complex situations. How do you raise a child with a disability to raise their lives to the best situation possible? I wonder that almost every day with my child and her autism spectrum disorder. We will have to work hard for the rest of our lives to provide opportunities for daughter #1 to thrive. Some days we miserably fail. Other days, we merely wonder. Other days we peer into the future to see what is possible. Daughter #1 is amazingly artistic--she wrote and drew some books for her sister and grandparents. She invented a board game and played with her mother and grandparents. I continue to dream that she will bring great joy to others and herself with her artistic pursuits. I don't ever expect Desperate Housewives to inspire this kind of pondering, but I'm happy when it does. I look forward to getting back home to the Pacific Northwest and talk with my wife about what we saw on tonight's episode.

Listening...(September 16, 2009 edition)

Landslide--Dixie Chicks
Ready To Run--Dixie Chicks
Stone Inside My Shoe--Animal Logic
Love Is Dead--The Lovemakers

In preparation to sell off the last of my CDs, I found a few Dixie Chicks CD's and realized their enduring qualities. My dear wife went through a long stage of newer country music in the 1990's, and since she did most of the driving, any car trip involved YOUNG COUNTRY, or HOT COUNTRY HITS! I latched on to a few artists on that type of radio station, but discovered the songs lacked any staying power, like Shania Twain or Alan Jackson. These aren't bad artists (some would argue with me on that), but their songs lack endurance. I may have enjoyed a song like "Chattahoochee" for a couple of weeks or months, but I'm not going to pay a dollar for it to store on my iPod. I may even turn the station if I hear that song on the radio. I like the whole idea of musical endurance and how it occurs.

Some Dixie Chicks songs are aging like a fine wine--I have admired the musical complexity of these songs repeatedly over the past few days. I will find myself searching for some deeper Dixie Chicks songs--to save some time I will consult my Dixie Chicks aficionado friend in Pennsylvania.

I was on an Animal Logic kick late in college and early in seminary on the recommendation of a good friend who was a Stewart Copeland (Police percussionist) fanatic. I think this band only put out 2 albums after The Police took off to do their own projects. I find the lyrics uneven at times--lines that appear to be throwaways in the middle of a good poetic thought. The bass (Stanley Clarke) and percussion are excellent, and vocalist Deborah Holland is a musical cousin of personal favorite Mary Fahl, but not nearly as haunting or tone rich.

The Lovemakers appear this week as the free track on iTunes. The review compares it to 80's synth-pop, but it's a lot more refined. The harmonies are far better than most 80's synth-pop--it sounds like a combination of Roxette if they were actually any good, with a touch of Hugh Grant singing with his faux band Pop! in the film Music & Lyrics, with a touch of 70's arena rock with a current lyrical sensibility. I'm not sure the song has any enduring quality, but they're interesting, and I think I find 4 decades of music in their art.

A fine wedding anniversary celebration

Anniversary celebrations for my dear wife and I took a revitalized path thanks to our new living configuration. Thanks to a little generosity from a congregation, my Mom and Dad, a little saving and creative searching, we had a fabulous celebration.

Dinner at Anthony's on Pier 66 in Seattle was a gift from a congregation (that did some great research) I served in South Dakota. My family has a good history of family gatherings over simple, creative, and scenic seafood meals--and my dear wife and I have made Anthony's part of our own family and relational dating tradition. We enjoy checking out the local scenery of each restaurant. I think we've enjoyed 5 locations and hope to enjoy more in the future.

We enjoyed a pleasant get away from kid clutter and household projects by staying at a nice suite and enjoying a drive across the I-90 bridge--something commuters and locals (including me at one point) easily took for granted. I admire this drive for its beauty, architecture, and the intersection of form and function. Our time of exploration and sharing were enhanced by the backdrop of beauty and utility--a celebration of gifts. For me, this is marriage at its best. Sometimes this beauty is lost in the stresses day to day living. None of this can happen without the day to day living--working together and appreciating one another doing the little things.

Chateau Ste. Michelle offers free tours. Another beautiful example of form and function convergence in a way that wanted us coming back for more. We walked hand-in-hand on the grounds, learned a little bit more about wine, and enjoyed our time together even more as we watched a couple tour with their two children (although they were AMAZINGLY behaved), appreciating our own children but thankful we had some time to ourselves. Soon after we began earning real incomes as pastors, we drove to the Wollersheim Winery in Wisconsin, enjoyed the tour and bought wine for gifts and personal enjoyment. I think we learned wine wasn't going to be a serious hobby, but when thinking of our trip to Chateau Ste. Michelle, we easily remembered what an enjoyable experience of taste, beauty and appreciation for the work and creativity of a craft can be.

There was much more that could have been enjoyed that day, but we were called back to the service of our household when we learned our geriatric canine was suffering and needed our attention. Thankfully the dog's struggles didn't happen in the early stages of our time away, but we gently moved in to care for the dog--it was the right thing to do. Caring for the dog served as a reminder of the love that brought us together and the work together that bonds with that love to uphold a household, while providing each of us the opportunity to serve in our Christian vocation while serving one another, while also being served by others. This is also a relational event for my dear wife and I that would have been much more difficult in South Dakota--a challenge for our child care situation, different work schedule challenges, and not as many dining choices. All in all, we witnessed A blessed interdependence.

The eye of a budding photographer

Daughter #1 has the eye of an artist, which I believe is related to her struggle to normally communicate with society--something like someone who is deprived of one sense has special ability to use another. The gift is raw and unrefined, but she takes a liking to artistic expression while being especially persistent.

Or, she has an itchy shutter trigger finger (or maybe some combination of with the first reason).

Our oldest daughter recently returned from a trip to Montana and Canada with her grandparents, and the first time she had control of a digital camera we gave her for Christmas almost 2 years ago. The real problem with the camera was that I struggled to integrate it with our digital production system.

Mission accomplished.

She took over 380 pictures in 3 days (thank goodness for digital photography) and revealed what is important to a child's eye (flowers, specifically) and that she enjoys framing a scene. It's hard to know what direction to point her in with artistic development, but my dear wife and I look forward to the possibilities, and I hope our daughter enjoys her growth.

After 5 weeks with digital cable

I have surprised myself after watching about 5 weeks of cable television (not constantly, of course). If I predicted what I would be watching, I would have guessed sports and Comedy Central. It's not even close. I watch Mariner games, but not all of them. The Mariners probably rank 3rd, behind shows on TLC and HGTV.

I've found that these networks carry shows that inspire household discussion. Daughter #1 takes interest in people that are hurt, have a disease or some other genetic challenge. I think it has something to do with her growing understanding of the self-other dynamic and differences in general. She's starting to make sense of difference, and we end up having discussions about social dynamics, recognizing the innocence of her curiosity, yet recognizing necessity of kindness, personal space, compassion and social graces.

For my dear wife and I, we watch "What Not To Wear." At first, I think it was amusing, but lately I've been reflecting upon the meaning of clothing and personal appearance. A deeper reflection began after watching The Devil Wears Prada. For a few years I've taken into consideration what clothing means in the realm of social justice, and surprisingly, implicit references have been made to the amount of money spent on clothing on this show and its meaning. What I did not expect as a reflection from this show was the frequency of the discussion about what is "age appropriate clothing." I'm not prepared to address the question, but as in other instances, turning 40 is on my mind. To what degree does image matter? How does clothing fit in? What of social justice? My dear wife and I have hit a surprising amount of discussions related to this show.

HGTV has also presented many different discussions. The focus on housing and design are a bit outside of common household discussion, especially since we recently spent a goodly sum on house updates, and we are not prolific "do-it-yourself" folks. These housing topics and sub-topics are important for our family because space and land affect relationships. I think public discourse is currently directed toward the purity and/or critique of the state of relationships. But as biblical scholar Eugene Peterson reminds me that relationships are important, we also occupy time and space, therefore we must give adequate reflection to what time and space mean in our lives. HGTV provides space for some practical discussion about the meaning of space and land in our lives in relationship to our family. It's also fun. Fun is good.

Album Rock, Continued

The more I think about the topic of "album rock," and figure out if I had to take 10 CD's on a cross country road trip, which ones would I take? A few factors to consider:

1. I can only think of a few reasons that I would take CD's on a road trip: a) something in the mp3 circle of life is out of order, b)surveying the equipment available on the trip, CD's would be the way to go. Therefore, the CD discussion is nearly obsolete.

2. The concept of album craft appears nearly obsolete. This is not to say that vinyl is obsolete--vinyl can be a better sound than digital in some cases. In addition, the graphic art associated with CD releases is not dead because of the development of mp3 software. Putting together songs on an album/CD release in the album craft art is nearly obsolete.

3. What does the development of mp3 music culture say about music choice? Or choice in general? The amount of choice available occasionally boggles my mind when I ponder its magnitude. Though mp3 platforms like iTunes have been good in the past in separating me from my money by giving me song samples, reviews and free songs, I find that the magnitude of choice sometimes paralyzes me in spending money on music. Considering the Frugal Rule, this is a good development. I consider this paralysis of choice a bad development because I miss out on some hidden gems of music.

Back to the list of choice CD's--I only dealt with the scenario of a cross country trip with a little music once. I drove from Southern California to the Puget Sound region with a high school friend in 1989 in his olive green 1975(?) Dodge Charger. Our music choices were limited, but I remember we had 4 cassettes:

Boston-Boston
Boston-Third Stage
Alabama-Greatest Hits
Bobby Brown-Don't Be Cruel

I don't listen to any of these CD's with any frequency anymore, let alone any of the songs (except I had a little reunion with Bobby Brown's "Every Little Step," several months ago. After following a little bit of Brown's career and life path--this is really a song glorifying stalking. A bit creepy.), but we survived and enjoyed singing some of the songs repeatedly.

Because the legitimacy of the cross country CD question is just about dead in an era of choice and mp3's, I don't need to drag out this question any longer. My 10 cd's for the trip (in no particular order):

Great Big Sea--The Hard and the Easy
Whiskeytown--Strangers Almanac
Rush--Moving Pictures
Jason Falkner--Bliss Descending
Alison Krauss + Union Station--New Favorite
James Taylor--One Man Dog
Barenaked Ladies--Gordon
Lloyd Cole--Love Story
Bach--Brandenburg Concertos 1-6
R.E.M.--Life's Rich Pageant

I needed a little classic rock, a little power pop, a little rockin' country, a variety of singable songs at all volumes, music where I don't have to sing, some distinctly ethnic identity music, some songs to make me think and songs to lead to prayer. It may not be the best list, but it's one with which I can live for 1-7 days of driving. It's also a list where there's plenty of songs that my dear wife would enjoy, though we might put together a rule that we each get to choose 5 CD's.

Okay now, I think I'm done with this topic.

Love those county fairs

One of the best summer entertainment values for our family is a small town fair. Last summer we went to two; Saturday we took a beautiful drive on a pleasantly warm day and attended a fair with no gate fee. The girls love the animals--especially the pigs, goats, horses and cats. The pig pictured above is quite a prolific mother--gave birth to 14 litters, averaging a dozen piglets per litter. We watched a little bit of dogs performing at a show, jumping hurdles and climbing through tunnels. We looked at some of the 4-H artwork and imagined our oldest daughter might enjoy 4-H and encourage her to build some life skills. Our youngest took interest in the Elvis impersonator, as she vigorously applauded for "It's Now Or Never," a song dedicated to a couple who was engaged at that little concert.

There is not much about this fair that is particularly unique--animals, prize vegetables, rides, treats, music, etc--the usual fair fare. The crowds are manageable, the girls have a little freedom (we don't have to worry too much about one of them taking off in the crowd), they look forward to the rides, and they see things that we don't always see in our day to day life. Besides the agricultural and artistic displays, we saw an unofficial dog show. As we made our way to the fair entrance, two large (~75-100 pounds), well groomed stray dogs crossed our path. One mounted the other, like they were doing this on cue as a performance. Another family saw this as they sat in their car eating their lunch. I think each of the groups was trying to discern whether the dogs belonged to either party. Daughter #1 asked, "Are those dogs fighting?"

Dear wife: "Not really."

Daughter #1: "Are they playing?"

Dear wife: "You could say that."

Daughter #1: "Are they playing tag?" The family in the car laughed. We tried not to discourage the questions, but we had a hard time not laughing. It just didn't feel like the right time to explain dog mating, so we stuck with agreeing about the playing dogs. My dear wife and I got a lot of mileage out that scene as we made little jokes about what we saw. It's one of those cute innocent reactions from children that we can't really control and hope to convey as grace and the joys of childhood.

The girls smiled almost the entire trip--we had some great teaching moments and we come home tired after long walks and good sunshine. Thirty dollars well spent for parking, lunch, treats, a ride and some games. The girls also received stuffed animals from a generous man who won the animals playing games out of the goodness of his heart, and a free bear for visiting all of the animal displays at the fair. The clincher for me is the mountain back drop, the towering evergreens and the scones we don't get in South Dakota. We would go to a small town fair in the middle of the Mojave Desert or a rain forest, but this context was special. A good time was had by all.

Listening...(July 13, 2009 edition)

Jai Ho--A.R. Rahman
Stay Where I Can See You--The Starting Line
Audience of One--Rise Against
Cocaine--Eric Clapton
Suzie--Boy Kill Boy
In The Lord--Taize Community
Any Way You Want It--Journey
Meet James Ensor--They Might Be Giants
Revival!--Me Phi Me
Avenues--Whiskeytown

I've never really understood why Eric Clapton's "Cocaine" was such a "great" song. Is it because the lyrics seem vague about cocaine, and that kind of message coincides well with the blues of drug use? Is it cool in and of itself to sing about drug use? I remember some of the rumored drug users from middle school to college thought this song was great. Was it that they thought it was great because they recognized that highs felt good but that drug use was a dead-end habit? Or is any song mentioning drugs cool? Clapton claims the song is anti-drug. The riff isn't exactly inspiring, and its repetition calls to mind water torture. What got me listening to the song was watching a portion of the newer version of the film "The Bad News Bears (Billy Bob Thornton version)" He takes his youth baseball team to Hooters for a celebration--and at the peak of this celebration, the team chants this song as it blares in the background on the jukebox (I could see something like this happening in the 70's, but today???). That connection to "Cocaine" was humorous enough as I watched the film with my dear wife Sunday morning. In almost a Twilight Zone moment, I'm sitting in a "contemporary" worship service with my family about an hour later. After the sermon, the band goes into a sung interpretation of the Apostles' Creed. As I reflect on this creed, I see the language is a bit different, but acceptably similar (pastors think about this stuff). What piques my interest about this worship song is the guitar riff...it's..."Cocaine!" My eyes bugged out of my head. I don't want to say the word "cocaine" in a worship service, especially in the relatively small room we were in. But I point this out to my dear wife, who doesn't see this realization as the surreal moment that I do. This story is going to end up in one of my novels someday. I couldn't make up something like this.

I had only marginally heard of the band Rise Against, but Keith Law wrote about this band in a blog post. I've found I like looking for music reviews from non-music critics with writing skills. Of the songs he evaluated, this is the song I liked the most. The song has some arena rock drive, but it's a much more poetic reflection upon contrasting youth and adulthood than a typical rock anthem--something I appreciate as I approach 40 years old. I have a feeling I'm going to be listening to the song "Audience of One" often in the next year or so.

Journey can put together some of the most horrendous songs of my rock and roll memory: "Chain Reaction" and "Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" come to mind. But for some reason, "Any Way You Want It" is a great rock anthem. Why? The first two Journey songs try too hard to be deep about love and relationships. The power ballad seems to be a better place to take the sentiment of those songs. "Any Way You Want It" is shallow in its statement, yet simply and pleasantly emotive. It rocks with a broad appeal, with appearances on Caddyshack and in a Toyota commercial in the past two years. It's also a rare song to which I enjoy both driving and running.

I personally find it hard for prayer life and Bible reading to come together well. Taize music helps me when I can't seem to meet words in a place for meaningful prayer. "In The Lord" is an excellent example of a simple, beautiful song that expresses the movement of God in the world and the thankfulness that comes when I reflect upon the Spirit's action.

The Starting Line is not a particularly gifted bunch of lyricists, but they have an uncanny way of matching little vocal shifts and words to music, beat and harmony. If anyone else put the cheesy lyrics, "When you go away, I get so low, like temperatures when they're at their coldest," I think the idea would fall flat. But it works in "Stay Where I Can See You." I love listening to this band.

Sometimes I forget to listen to Whiskeytown. I'm not exactly sure why. They write great songs that tell a unique story about common themes--a bit like Lyle Lovett's country songs with a vocal quality after having swallowed a few burning cigarettes and sounding a bit more melancholy and unpolished. "Avenues" is a well written song, delivered with appropriate sentiment. I've already listened to this song 10 times today. Polishing (producing) a song doesn't necessarily make it better.

An addition to Famous North Dakotans? Thoughts on Chuck Klosterman's work

After reviewing a few lists of famous North Dakotans I didn't find Chuck Klosterman on those lists. A few theories and thoughts: 1) Does a famous North Dakotan have to be born in North Dakota? According to his profile, though he was born in Minnesota, he was raised in Wyndmere, North Dakota, graduated from North Dakota, and probably wrote one of the more famous pieces of fiction based on a composite North Dakota town, Downtown Owl. Having not read Downtown Owl (it's on my list), but having recently completed Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas, 2) I now wonder whether North Dakota doesn't want to claim him. Some of his work is a little explicit for all of those Norwegian-Americans in North Dakota. 3) What distinguishes someone as "famous?" Is it that their names are part of wider public discourse? That their name is recognized by a wider audience? Klosterman has written for Spin, Esquire, ESPN the Magazine, and The New York Times Magazine, to name a few.

Even though I lived in South Dakota for over 8 years and admired the state, I always thought North Dakota was a little bit cooler than South Dakota for a few reasons:

1. North Dakota colleges and universities are way better at sports than South Dakota colleges and universities (though the gap may be closing). Until a few years ago, the University of North Dakota had the only Division I sports team in the Dakotas (UND Hockey). UND Hockey is really cool (literally and figuratively).

2. North Dakota is much more obscure (which I consider cool). You have to want to go there. South Dakota is drive-through country--with Mt. Rushmore, Wall Drug, and being on Interstate 90--the great path from the West to the Northeast, New England and the Atlantic Ocean, not to mention several large metropolitan areas along the way, many folks can say they've at least driven through South Dakota, and for seemingly good reasons. North Dakota also doesn't have a city over 100,000 people and doesn't have as much easy access popular culture on well-traveled paths as South Dakota.

3. North Dakota has easier access to the bountiful and mysterious north that is Canada.

4. I suppose North Dakota is literally cooler in temperature than South Dakota.

5. Chuck Klosterman.

After reading one of his fabulous articles in ESPN the Magazine a few years ago, I picked up a copy of Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto. I enjoyed this book as I resonated with the Gen X perspective, but also appreciated the anti-academic, yet still sharp and intelligent observation and writing. Chuck Klosterman IV is a similar product to Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs in its intelligence, but it tracks his work (mostly from Spin and Esquire) for a decade. The (London) Evening Standard called Klosterman's work "Ferociously clever and ferociously self-deprecating." Klosterman accomplishes this rare (unique?) combination with tight and economical writing. I particularly enjoyed the introductions to each of his columns/essays. For example:

"You are offered a Brain Pill. If you swallow this pill, you will become 10 percent more intelligent than you currently are...to all other people you meet, you will seem 20 percent less intelligent...Do you take this pill (p. 259)?" This is an introduction to a specific critique of Entertainment Weekly's look at Guilty Pleasures in entertainment. The introduction is good on its own, but it's even better when considered with the essay.

I also appreciated his look at the useless and misguided level of astonishment in cultural critique: "Why do non religious people think that the Christian Right shouldn't have a voice in government? Why do conservatives get angry bout the prospect of gay marriage, even if they've never met a gay person and never will...culture can't be wrong...people can be wrong, and movements can be wrong. But culture--as a whole--cannot be wrong. Culture is just there (p. 267).

The following could be classified as a Gen X perspective, but what I appreciate about the following quote is that Klosterman articulates my reflections on politics and public discourse better than I can myself (I know because I've tried a few times in this blog and foolishly on message boards): "Whenever I meet someone who openly identifies themselves as a Republican or a Democrat, my immediate thought is always 'Well, this person might be interesting, but they'll never say anything about politics that is remotely useful to me.' I refuse to discuss abortion with anyone who is pro-life or pro-choice...All the world's stupidest people are either zealots or atheists. If you want to truly deduce how intelligent someone is, just ask this person how they feel about any issue that doesn't have an answer; the more certainty they express, the less sense they have. This is because certainty only comes from dogma (p. 240)."

I value this kind of thought, but it sure is hard to articulate challenging thoughts such as these from within the church especially from the pulpit or leadership position. Few people in the Church will question the Church in a valuable way. I think there is too much on the line on multiple levels. I certainly don't have the courage to do it on many occasions. From where will the next Martin Luther come? Luther was great thinker with a heart for the common person, a love for God and the mysteries of God, and someone with the courage to articulate where the Church is lost while still holding a love for the Church.

I'm not sure whether Klosterman is intentionally left off the famous North Dakotans lists for his challenging writing, or that he frankly writes about sex and drugs at the dark side of humanity at times. He doesn't glorify the darkness of humanity, but he asks great questions about it and makes great observations. This writing brings to mind the seminal Gen X writer, Douglas Coupland, with his sometimes dizzying prose, dancing the fence of disbelief suspended. But Klosterman's journalistic background also takes his low culture philosophy to a place Coupland cannot go: some of the things Klosterman reports could not possibly be made up. This makes Klosterman a way cool North Dakotan, even if he may not widely be claimed as famous.

Really Behind The Movies--The Devil Wears Prada

I recall seeing the novel upon which this film was based everywhere--maybe it was a time I spent many days in bookstores spending money I did not have. I must have had something in common with the film's main character played by Anne Hathaway--someone who knew little or nothing about the world of fashion. I recall web searching "Prada" during the apex of the book's popularity; if I was going to avoid pop culture, I needed to know a little more about what I was avoiding. I had no desire to read the book or watch the film, but this was another opportunity for a discussion topic with my dear wife. Wonderful thing about these films is that they provide some detachment from church topics, yet also provide theological grist for the mill should we decide to go in that direction. At the very least, I get to snuggle with my dear wife on the sofa.

I originally believed this movie would go toward the dark side of the Sex and The City series, a vapid depiction of gratuitous consumption in the fashion world. Thankfully, I was wrong about the story line, and it moved toward the good side of Sex and The City, which is sharp dialog, intriguing relationships and insightful social commentary. Though I don't know the book, the storyline avoids vapidity partly from the strong casting of Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep. There is no way Anne Hathaway could carry this story on her own, and she is teetering on future typecasting with mere clumsy/awkward/tentative charm. She is uplifted in her films by some powerful and talented actors, like Tucci and Streep, and also Julie Andrews in The Princess Diaries (no need to review this one--it's like Prada but with no depth of social reflection). I hope Hathaway has taken copious notes on her colleagues' work with such close observations, for Tucci and Streep only magnify their versatility in this film.

It seems that Streep gives a screenplay writer of a popular novel a fighting chance for public discourse to proclaim that the movie matches the ethos of the book. A few Streep monologues ring powerful in this film above the craft of the story itself. In one scene that gives a primary lesson to Hathaway's fashion neophyte, Streep deftly, elegantly and implicitly describes that fashion does not deserve all of the critique from the masses: fashion is where art and beauty meet utility and accessibility. This convergence of beauty and utility also provides thousands and thousands of jobs, a point that couldn't be lost on Hathaway's character, who had won an award for covering a janitor union labor dispute in Chicago. Streep's character does this plausibly and beautifully (with just enough smugness) in a 3-minute scene while glancing at Hathaway's cerulean sweater.

Certainly this film will be entertaining for the fashion gawkers, and Hathaway provides plenty of fodder for that kind of entertainment. In the end, the wonderful surprise of this film is that different social perspectives come to this story, they meet and mingle, confront and question, and come out going their separate ways without acidic and destructive critique. For a story and film that reflects on image, the story is not preachy or overtly critical. It is possible for empathic feelings for all the characters, a rare feat in a story or film. This film was a pleasant surprise during this past week of a surreal and odd look at image through the deaths of 3 oddly different, yet similar public figures, Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett and Billy Mays.

Image is much more complex than the over-simplification that can happen in popular media. This is not to say popular media doesn't play an important role in public discourse, only that it is incomplete. The Devil Wears Prada adds to the depth of discussion about image. I am currently reading a book by Chuck Klosterman that will take that depth to a new and enjoyable level. I will write on this book soon.

Listening...(June 26, 2009 edition)

My music playlist has shifted a bit in the last two weeks. Between Starbucks, the free iTunes downloads, and splurging about three dollars on downloads, I'm putting a little variety in my listening habits. It's not a large departure, but at least the songs are different.

No listening habit can eclipse the songs going on in my head, thanks to my daughters and PBS Kids. I learn I am not the only parent suffering from the infinite PBS playlist. We get together and sing the Sid The Science Kid opening song. Jingle writers and children's TV song writers are the greatest under the radar artists in society. Their ability to get something in the heads of millions is uncanny. When I think of all the songs that make my playlists and compare them to jingles and children's TV shows, the latter makes many more tracks on the soundtrack of life.

If the CD/playlist/album was called, "Moving Back To King County" the track list would look like this

"Rug Time" Teacher Suzie from Sid The Science Kid
"Curious George Opening Song"
"Martha Speaks Opening Song"
"I'm Looking For My Friends" Sid The Science Kid
"Word Girl Opening Song"
"Dragon Tales Opening Song"
"Earn Enough For Us" XTC (We're still trying to sell our house--big theme song)
"Revival" Me Phi Me
"Everywhere" Michelle Branch (Those damn Chase commercials)
"Into The Great Unknown" Mary Fahl
"Bad Day" Barenaked Ladies
"Jai Ho" Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack (A favorite of child #2, "Listen to Jai Ho, Daddy?)

The PBS songs are far more infectious, and sometimes the girls and I will sing these songs like we're living in a musical. We can see a rug, or go sit down somewhere to talk, and we break into singing "Rug Time." I used to think musicals were silly in my younger life, but I'm beginning to understand their artistic value more and more each day.

An evolving relationship with coffee (part 2)

I thought the cultural attachment to coffee in the Northern Great Plains/Upper Midwest (NGP/UM) strange as I moved more deeply into congregational life. The relationship to coffee appeared different in the Pacific Northwest in my simultaneous regional observations. In the early 90's coffee developed into a heavy commerce/status/survival commodity in the Pacific Northwest. Commerce, because coffee stands sprung up like rainy season mushrooms all over the PNW, in any old place. As a non-coffee drinker, I saw it as a status/commerce thing at the time. However, after repeated visits to the PNW, my dear wife commented that coffee was more of a survival drink, offering a means to get through mind-altering and numerous overcast days. I found that argument persuasive, though I still could not relate. So much money and effort placed on something that tasted like something brewed from dishwater, dirt and acid.

Coffee in the NGP/UM Lutheran culture became annoying--it was a social ticket in any congregation with which I came in contact. I literally received gasps when I refused coffee. What does one do with their hands and mouth during a conversation? How does one stay awake during an Adult Bible Study on a Sunday morning? I joke that I almost wasn't ordained or graduated from seminary because part of the examination period involved being offered a cup of coffee. If I didn't accept, I failed and would be removed from the program. This joke was not completely baseless; I had one instance where I thought I was failing on my internship because of coffee. A local pastor was visibly offended when I refused coffee at a meeting and insisted multiple times I had a cup. "What do you MEAN you don't drink coffee (can't Baptists enter into anything without judgment--I'll have to talk with my friend Theobilly the Baptist about this one)?!??!???" Having a weak self-esteem bubble, I gagged through a cup and 1/2 and felt a racing heart mangled taste buds the rest of the morning.

Marriage offered me no shelter from coffee culture--my dear wife loves her coffee. Few things solidify and care for our marriage like the dependable cup of coffee brewed in the morning, it speaks something about the commitment of love. She taught me the art of working with espresso--and I have developed into a decent amateur barista. We've worked our way through two espresso machines in nearly 12 years of marriage, and are in need of a third. I attempted to resurrect our last machine, but broke it beyond repair in that attempt. The Frugal Rule is so strong that we are holding off on a new machine purchase until our budget can help us acquire a higher quality device. But we have our basic Mr. Coffee to get us through the interim period. My dear wife has never been a militant coffee activist. She has never derided me for my simple freedom to reject coffee--only that I tolerate her simple(?) pleasure and not look down on keeping it as a household staple. No problem there. Though I don't like the taste or smell of coffee, it doesn't evoke the gag reflex like the banana or paper mache.

After ordination and graduation from seminary, I became more resolute in my personal rejection of coffee, but it wasn't merely the coffee institution, but the entire idea of caffeine. I wondered about the need for such a stimulant. A very good friend of mine used to carry large gas station containers of java wherever he went at the seminary--I could identify a place he landed, because he left his coffee jugs all over campus with his papers and books. One day in a real smart-aleck tone I told him--"I don't need coffee, I just sleep. It works a lot better for studying." Part of this declaration involved what I learned trying to pull all-nighters...but I still had (have) a lot to learn.

A trip to the park and lunchtime texture issues

The girls and I just returned from a picnic at the park. I'm still a bit in the nesting stage of the family move, so it takes an intentional effort to get out of the house. I may find peace in organizing and pitching some of the undesirable stuff (I can't believe we moved some of this crap), but I look over at my girls and see their listlessness (even if they are doing good developmental activities) and know that a trip outside for play would be the best thing for all of us.

We are blessed to have a decent park about 1/4 mile away. It's not the best jungle gym, but it has a nice track, nice fields, and lots of places for the girls to roam while I can still see them from some bird's-eye views. The 6-year old moves along in her scooter while the 2-year old lounges in the baby jogger on the way. We swung by the post office to pick up the cheapest Seattle Times in town ($0.50), and we headed to park.

I packed a simple lunch of peanut butter sandwiches, Toasted Corn Doritos, bananas, and water. To even carry a banana on my person is a step forward. I have traumatic memories of bananas as a child. I recall biting into one an responding with a Technicolor yawn. Now the even the smell makes me despondent. Our oldest didn't eat many bananas growing up, mostly because I wouldn't buy them, let alone prepare them for her. But child #2 is a really picky eater, and would live off of chips, French fries, chocolate and milk if we let her. She won't touch a vegetable. She doesn't even eat grapes. A few months ago we discovered she likes bananas, and I learned I had to hold my nose and make a sacrifice if this child was to take in any nutrients at all outside of a multi-vitamin. Today's banana was over-ripe and smelly. I can still smell it, even though I have washed my hands 4 times since the picnic.

I have texture issues. Not only with bananas, but with any cooked vegetable--peas, carrots, zucchini or any other squash. The less cooked, the better. Overcooked is the trigger. It took me years before I could eat potatoes, and I still have a hard time with the sweet potato/yam cousins, unless my dear wife makes them a little crispy, like oven fries. I don't know from where this texture/sensory aversion comes--but all I know is that overripe banana for lunch sent a chill up my spine, sending a warning signal to my gag reflex.

The champion enemy to my texture gag reflex hasn't surfaced in almost 30 years. For some reason I had two elementary school teachers with unnatural relationships with paper mache. It seemed like any project we had involved paper mache. Art projects, science projects, geography projects, all seemed to involve paper mache with these education professionals. For me, these projects may as well have been made with a large vat of vomit. Sometimes I would leave the room, as my gag reflex would go wild, and one art project, smelling the chunky, thin oatmeal-like substance, with my classmates dipping their entire arms holding strips of newspaper, and pouring cups of the substance over the drying formation to solidify the structure sent me over the edge.

Paper mache and bananas turn me into Wendell Borton from the Simpsons. The only factor in my survival with these bananas is love for my children. I honestly find it easier to clean up poop. Maybe it's because people eat bananas and enjoy working with paper mache. Poop is always disgusting. But, I suppose you get used to it and can work beyond it to do what needs to be done.

My mother-in-law says that a seasoned nurse becomes so accustomed to changing bed pans that they can change a bed pan with one hand and eat a sandwich with the other. The memory of the latrine dive in Slumdog Millionaire also serves as a reminder that certain loathings can be overcome to achieve a goal. My daughters need their nutrition--and neither of them will need a banana for several hours.

Really Behind The Movies--"Bottle Shock"

Another bullet point to my declining awareness of movies is that I run into movies of which I was never aware of their release. I attribute part of this decline to living in South Dakota and its lack of independent film houses. The independent film houses are outside of Sioux Falls, and they will stick with popular movies because of the survival need. Sioux Falls film houses must not have a market for a wide variety of films--even the Oscar-nominated films generally do not run until the nominations come out, or the awards are given. This film scene did not matter so much for my dear wife and me, we were at the point of our family life and vocation that we weren't going to view many films anyway. The schedule rarely gave us 2 hours where weren't exhausted or occupied. My dear wife's schedule has changed a bit. Though we will never catch up, we are becoming reacquainted with films-three in two weeks is almost unheard of.

We learned about Bottle Shock as a preview before viewing "Religulous." Bottle Shock is the behind the scenes story of California wines bursting on to the world stage at an unassuming blind taste test in Paris staged by a smarmy British C-List wine critic, educator and merchant. The value in this film is the story behind the story of wine--the people and relationships involved in making wine. It has some popular appeal in that Americans love an underdog victory story, and Bottle Shock delivers on multiple layers. I found particularly disorienting a story of America being the underdog in the 20th century, but apparently this was the case for American wines as late as the 1970 (shows how little I know about wine). The film is a bit slow at times, but I was held by the whole idea about America being an underdog in recent history and how electric that concept. The father-son relationship takes an important role in this film. The key figure vintner and his son is a typical dynamic of son not living up to father's expectations. This relationship stands out more when contrasted with a brief look at a (term?) Latino vineyard shop steward and his artisan/laborer father who never had the true opportunity to practice his craft, presented a powerful picture of the father-son dynamic, opportunity and vocation.

A key theme in the film is a particular brand American ingenuity is in danger because socialism is on the rise. Though sometimes this propeganda carries a level of persuasion to it because Americans also extraordinarily market their ingenuity and whose history is filled with innovation--this doesn't mean that American-style capitalism is the only societal system that can be innovative. Indeed, the history of the Soviet Union is filled with stories of how innovation is killed by misguided central planners. I studied some very bizarre projects in college--factories placed in the middle of nowhere, places with decayed or non-existent infrastructure. I was recently intrigued by a story about how Sweden has created an urban structure that reduces traffic congestion. American innovators at IBM have recognized the waste presented by traffic congestion and are encouraging the United States to take up the same cause as we consider the hopes for our recent public investment, and that our party politics can be put away in favor of recognizing that innovation will not be encouraged by the ideologies of Democrats and Republicans.

I am glad that this film powerfully directed me toward a reflection on innovation--and that Washington can be a good partner, despite some of the party politics blather.

Listening...(May 19, 2009 Edition)

Only The Good Die Young--Billy Joel
Yesterday's News--Whiskeytown
Feeling No Pain--Jason Falkner
Dani California--Red Hot Chili Peppers
Folsom Prison Blues--Johnny Cash
And When I Die--Blood, Sweat & Tears
Misery Business--Paramore

Billy Joel appeared several months ago on Oprah (yes, even Mr. Moms like myself watch Oprah (maybe once per week), except I don't do the Oprah nod like the women in the audience). Billy was appearing with his wife, some 20-30 years his junior, talking more about his new family life first and his music. I'm not the biggest Billy Joel fan in the world, but I decided to take another look/listen at some of his songs from my collection after this interview. He was candid about his music, saying that he was disappointed in some of his songs that didn't have staying power--though he recognized this state of his repetoire is reality. What gives music staying power? Not being a musician myself, I would guess that staying power is rooted by a musician being a student of their craft, passion, persistence, an openness to critique, and a healthy dose of reflection (which I think comes naturally to an artist). I have settled on Only The Good Die Young as a favorite. I struggle to think of a better philosophical look at young love related to religion, culture and values--with some signature great lines: "Come out, Virginia, don't let me wait, Catholic girls start much too late." Though the piano is well represented in this song, it's not piano driven. Though an amazing pianist, Joel's pounding piano can be exhausting--probably the reason Jerry Lee Lewis is not a personal favorite.

On the subject of musical staying power, my dear wife and I had a great evening listening to the music of Chicago and Blood, Sweat and Tears on a double date. It was one of those pleasantly surprising evenings that I wasn't dreading, but I also wasn't imagining how great it was going to be, either. We had a fabulous Middle Eastern meal in Sioux Falls (yes, it's possible at a place called Sanaa's) good conversation where our companions for the evening were interested in us beyond being pastors, and a great evening of music. We were going to the Symphony--something I appreciate, but don't crave. What I did not know is that we were attending a pops concert, featuring symphonic accompaniment to the two aforementioned bands. I was in awe of the two musicians who composed the accompaniment for all those classical instruments. These two bands are rather horn heavy--and with the strings, the music was positively beautiful and stirring. This is also staying power--music can contain some underlying quality--where style doesn't particularly matter. Maybe this is the core of music theory--where math, creativity, beauty and sound meet to provide musical interpretation that can span the generations. The vocalist during that evening of pops was also a dead ringer for the B,S & T singer--fascinating. I've admired his voice since I was a child hearing their songs on the radio.

I wonder how often music theory has influenced music used in the life of the church? At this point, I'm only wondering, though considering developing the thought...

I had a dream recently about Johnny Cash coming to a congregation I was serving, and he opened the worship service with "Folsom Prison Blues." Of my thousands of dreams in my lifetime, why do I remember this one?

In Search Of: I Was Dreaming I Was Dreaming

The Web is such a sensory feed of memories. I keep a mental list of things I want to find, occasionally remembering to look. Sometimes I check an item of the list, like finding Annie Lennox version of Ladies of the Canyon last month. That one was relatively easy--I knew what I was looking for, and I knew that eventually that track would show up on iTunes. Other search items are not so easy. I remember the television series hosted by Leonard Nimoy, "In Search Of:" a program from my youth that sometimes grabbed my attention, leaving me to an afternoon of wonder, and the stories associated with that wonder.

Though Nimoy often addressed the paranormal, my own "In Search Of" is a simple story about a piece of art. When living in Denmark over a decade ago, I befriended a Mexican family in the congregation of which I was a part. I didn't know the family very long, we never stayed in touch. They did make their mark on me. The mother told me she completed her PhD while raising two children--it was through her story that I believed it was possible for me in my life. She said it was better to study with children because they created a discipline for study--she appreciated and valued her study time more. She and her husband introduced me to chicken mole, probably one of the top 20 meals I have had in my entire life (maybe a topic for another day). The couple also introduced me to a piece of art in their home. The black and white drawing had to be at least 4 feet tall. She gave me the title of the piece in Spanish, which I could not remember. The closest translation of the title was, "I Was Dreaming I Was Dreaming." I only vaguely remember the name of the artist, and I could not spell the name to save my life. It sounded something like "REE-pay." My web searches for this piece has been futile. My friends implied that this artist was moderately successful in Mexico, so I have hope it will show up in my search.

I am not really an art aficionado. I enjoy my own photography. I like to learn about the stories behind the art that grips me. My dear wife and I had a powerful experience viewing Gustav Vigeland's sculptures in Oslo. Vigeland's story for me is an example why I am a proponent of public investment in the arts. My dear wife and I have a cherished piece by John August Swanson that was an ordination gift--we were ordained together. This piece about which I know little is a bold, haunting, yet peaceful rendering of a large, gently curved face with gaping, relaxed eyes with an image of a dreaming self in the upper portion of the piece. The piece is not haunting in a terrible way, but a mysterious way, like a recurring dream to which the meaning is unknown. Mystery is under appreciated. I find this in my own brand of Lutheranism, where everything about our relationship with God has to be so clear and understood. Is love always clear and understood? Though my wife and I are close and woven, she still holds mystery to me, and I find joy in that. Discovery and mystery do not have to be painful. Maybe this piece of art will always be a mystery.

But I am always open to receive a lead about this art. I would love to see it again.