Carbonated Beverage Tax

Returning to the Pacific Northwest brings a daily joy during the spring and summer months. While productively keeping my household in order, I listen to my favorite sports team, the Seattle Mariners Baseball Club (Ichiro led off the game with a ground-rule double and came around to score as I write).

After 30 minutes of the broadcast, a commercial decries the proposed carbonated beverage tax in Washington State, three times during that span. The merits of the tax are debatable. Seth Godin makes an interesting argument about these types of beverage taxes. What I appreciate about Godin is his creative approach to looking at issues, ideas and concepts. I have to think about the merits of the tax, but the commercial adds nothing to the debate.

I realize the goal of almost any political ad is to create an emotional response. The ad depicts a couple going over their budget. Their budget is busted by taxes on carbonated beverages (Even seltzer water! Even club soda!). I find it amusing that the ad attempts to establish that carbonated beverages are an essential grocery item. Regardless of carbonated beverages value to a diet if carbonated beverages are busting your budget, then you don't know how to live with a budget.

The website (linked above) goes even further, by making carbonated beverage bottlers the victim, that the tax will "depress (nice word choice, eh?)" sales. Carbonated beverage bottlers and companies are far from the ranks of victims.

I am not against the right of free speech for the ad, and I'm not making a statement about the merits of taxes. I am such a victim that the joy of listening to the Mariners game by a terrible ad has been compromised. Woe is me.

Political advertisements with poor emotional baits that do not benefit public discourse on state government revenue? Put it on the Lame List!

I miss Almost Live.

Pondering the Influence of The Simpsons

Who cares if some think The Simpsons isn't relevant or edgy as in its glory days? The show still makes me laugh and think. It's influence is undeniable. Check this out:

Football, music, and my evolving relationship with coffee (part 8)

I recently accounted for Daughter #2's assertive calls for particular songs. Stephen Colbert is probably the favorite now. The other night we had some good friends over to our home for a little surf and turf. We thanked them for being on our team of hospice respite caregivers for our late dog, Hunter. While playing some music to enhance the festivities, Daughter #2 had to chime in for her own requests. It was easier to heed those requests. Once we made it through most of her own personal play list, she made another request, a bit far afield from the usual songs. I didn't understand what she was saying, until I discovered she wasn't asking for a song at all. She asked for the "College Football Podcast." I wonder who taught her to listen to that?

Also from the "where did she get that?" file, we were shopping at Fred Meyer yesterday, and Daughter #2 had the privilege of riding in a shopping cart/toy bus. She extends her neck out of the bus window and shouts, "I NEED and iced mocha!" I had a hard time containing my laughter thinking of her observing me trying to keep my energy up while taking on my new work life. I've had way more coffee than I'd ever imagined I would drink, and at least enough for Daughter #2 to engage in her own brand of mockery. The folks in Fred Meyer weren't exactly sure what she was saying, but someone told me she's getting early training as a Pacific Northwesterner with coffee acumen.

Song Watch for Daughter #2 (December 4, 2009 edition)

Another Christmas Song--Stephen Colbert
Cold, Cold Christmas--Stephen Colbert
Alright--Darius Rucker
What A Wonderful World--Louis Armstrong
General Taylor--Great Big Sea
England--Great Big Sea

Daughter #2 is an assertive little girl. She doesn't hesitate to ask for a song. The problem lies in that she has to hear the same song loop several times, making it hard to introduce new songs, and making me tire a little of my own favorites. She almost always says to a new song, "I don't want that song. I don't like that song (which means, 'I want to hear an (relatively) old favorite'). If I sing the song with enthusiasm and the song has an understandable tag line, she will ask for it, and it will make it on the loop. Louis Armstrong has stuck, and she knows to ask, "Daddy, do you miss Hunter? Is he with the angels?"

Tough to say the exact reason she likes the Stephen Colbert songs. Is it because we used to watch The Colbert Report while I folded laundry as a stay at home dad? Is it because she recognizes his voice? Is it because she likes the big band sound of "Another Christmas Song?" The funny thing for me about listening to Colbert Christmas is its Ray Stevens quality. My Dad and I used to listen to albums often--I think it was cheap entertainment during my youth. One of my favorites was Ray Stevens' Guitarzan album. I just liked the songs as a child, they were probably funny for my Dad. Good family entertainment has a little something for everyone--I wouldn't have classified Stephen Colbert as family entertainment, but I'll take it.

Forget Limbaugh and Olbermann, the comedians are a lot closer to reality

The United States is sitting at a high level of anxiety if political commentary screamers have the most power. They're only accountable to their own power bases, and not to the general public. The louder they scream, the higher ratings they get. What greater good is served in watching/reading/listening to already agreed upon commentary?

I enjoyed Saturday Night Live's take on Obama's presidency, even if PolitiFact gives Obama a little slack on some of Obama's promises lampooned on SNL. What I like about PolitiFact is that it steers clear of ideological based critique and hold Obama accountable for what he said he was going to do--which is much more interesting and at least more objective than ideological screaming heads like Olbermann, Beck and their ilk.

Is it worn-out language? Will it be worn-out language? Snarky

The word "snark" anecdotally has picked up steam in public discourse. Keith Law calls himself a "deliverer of snark." One of my favorite twitter feeds is SnarkyJesus. Keith and SnarkyJesus have a following because of their snarkacious abilities.

I have to admit, I like the word snarky. I'm not sure I like snarky as a general posture or attitude. I like how Keith Law tends to use it for instances when he receives a statement that has little or no thought behind it. I'm not sure snark inspires growth in the snarkee, but in this newly expanded idea of "all the world's indeed a stage (imagining Geddy Lee rockin' out to one of my favorite songs of all time, Limelight)," I enjoy watching someone get snarked. If I receive snark, it needs a foundation in thought to be enjoyable.

Hard to tell what the shelf life of this word will be. Time to go read some Keith Law for my Recommended Daily Allowance of snark today.

Seattle Mariners, Washington Huskies and Elation (part 1)

Wow.

I'm with Seattle Times columnist Jerry Brewer and UDub Football Head Coach Steve Sarkisian. Wow.

After attending the Mariners-Yankees game Friday night and the Huskies-USC game Saturday afternoon, I think my legs are still shaking. Our group of 4 on Friday was looking more for a good night together to see the Yankee juggernaut and entourage--always baseball history in the making. We were looking for a good hanging out activity.

This year the Mariners have their own history in the making with arguably the best pitcher in baseball (Felix Hernandez) and two future Hall of Famers (the still productive Ichiro and the larger than life Ken Griffey, Jr.). The Mariners are still a compelling storyline despite their exit from playoff contention about 6 weeks ago. No one really saw (except for my brother) Ichiro winning the game off of the rarely beaten Darth Vader of relief pitchers Mariano Rivera in the bottom of the 9th with two outs. I still have chills when I think of watching it live and seeing them all celebrate.

What was also fun was that our group of four sat behind a cohort of Yankee fans. I am not a Yankee hater, though I like them less and less as the years pass. I can't hate them because one of my baseball heroes was a Yankee--Don Mattingly. I modeled my own game and preparation after his. I even celebrated his birthday as a high school athlete (April 20, BTW). The Yankee fans were a bit obnoxious (must have been that they sucked down copious amounts of beer and passed around a flask). But they were popping off to the Mariner fans around them--a game 10 year old boy sitting in front of them took the best approach and just cheered louder for the Mariners. I basically ignored them for most of the game (actually, didn't respond to them). I took note of some of their ramblings, but this joke typifies their banter:

Q: What's the difference between a Mariner hot dog and a Yankee hot dog?
A: You can eat a Yankee hot dog in October!

In my first of two responses during the contest, I pointed out to the Yankee fan that one could eat a Mariner hot dog in October this season, because with the World Baseball Classic being held this spring, the final Mariner home stand of the season took place in October. One could buy a Mariner hot dog then. And technically, one can buy a Mariner hot dog at any Costco in Western Washington, as one can buy the Mariner Dog brand there and serve them at home. I told him that if you really want to create an accurate joke, he could say that a Yankee hot dog can be eaten in November, since the recent advent of the opening round of the playoffs now is a best of 7 series, the World Series can fall on the first week of November. But that would also be inaccurate, since the dawn of the expanded playoff series, the Yankees have either been inept in the playoffs or the regular season. Therefore, he can't really tell a joke, and he was just popping off.

My second response was delayed after he said the game was over after the Mariano Rivera entrance. I can't say I held out too much hope for a response. But I did openly call for Mike Sweeney to pinch hit in the 9th, since he's been swinging such a hot bat in the past few months and would be one of the least likely to be intimidated by Rivera. My friend who flew in from Kansas City, part of the hapless KC Royals fan base, was at least happy to see someone with Royals connections do well. With Sweeney's double in the gap, and Ichiro coming to the plate, all things were possible to tie the game. I thought he would double in the gap to tie the game. My brother declared Ichiro was ending it and going yard.

My brother was right--and we went berserk. Pandemonium. Pure elation. My dad and I each shared that our legs were shaking. Such a calm evening turned into a gigantic celebration. No one wanted to go home. We soaked in the moment and gave thanks we didn't have to run around like Jim Valvano looking for someone to hug. We had our troupe right there. We were the re-incarnation of the High Five'n White Guys.

Advice for The Onion if it was trying to attract a regional audience...

If the Onion wanted to market this article in the Northern Great Plains, they would replace "casserole" in the headline with "hotdish."

Still goobers

I was wondering if broadcast news talking heads were still goobers. I took a break from my recent infatuation with HGTV and TLC to find out.

They are still goobers.

I wonder if this bank will be getting a bailout

I worry about financial services companies, especially with the ORCA card making some transactions obsolete. Another fine financial institution in the toilet. Sigh.

Preaching for July 26th, 2009

2 Samuel 11:1-15
Psalm 14
Ephesians 3:14-21
John 6:1-21

I preach on the Gospel of John with higher levels of trepidation than other texts. I remember the challenge of the Greek when I used that tool with any regularity. I also find this account presents some of the most challenging interpretive questions. This particular section in the Revised Common Lectionary also hits 5 straight weeks of John 6 and themes related to bread. I have come across several (poor) preacher jokes about how they avoid these texts through the use of vacation and other lectionary texts.

I'm leaning toward preaching on the Ephesians text because I resonate with the offering of encouragement to the people of God, whom in my experience are often feeling either insufficient as a child of God, discouraged, isolated, or a combination thereof. After reading Arland Hultrgren's piece from workingpreacher.org, I'm focusing on the riches of faith--which is the relationships and faith stories of others in the community of faith.

Some in the coming weeks will argue that the riches of faith come only from the articulation sound and pure doctrine. This doctrinal argument will inevitably arise when ELCA Lutherans from all over the country will get together in Minneapolis in less than a month to passionately debate the role of LGBT people in the live of the Church (though it won't be the only topic, this topic will receive the most coverage). Some will say that these faith stories are irrelevant or minimized because they do not come from a foundation of sound doctrine. I may read about these debates because sometimes I like to watch a good train wreck. I believe the ELCA may experience a significant split after the August gathering. At the very least there will be hemming and hawing. Whatever the ELCA discerns what to do with itself, I will continue to harvest the riches of faith stories in Christ from God's people, for it is texts like this in Ephesians that call me to what I am supposed to do. If a church isn't willing to have me as a preacher of the Gospel because of a certain trajectory of belief I hold, so be it.

These reflections may not all find their way into my sermon on Sunday--I have to have an intentional economy of words. The heat will preclude me from a long period of attention from the congregation on Sunday--and they do not have air conditioning. Ugh.

Downtown Owl: my new sub-hobby as a Chuck Klosterman apologist (as if he needs one)

Regardless of book quality, rarely do I complete a book in less than a week. Granted, Chuck Klosterman is relatively easy to read--sometimes I find it easier to read Klosterman than the comics section.

Why do I find him so easy to read these days? Klosterman feels like a pseudo-friend as I read his work. I don't think I have the life, time or energy for many friends these days. I don't necessarily lament this, I live a blessed life. However, there's a distinct quality and added value to reading (hearing) something about a philosophical shared experience. Though I wasn't born in the Northern Great Plains (NGP), I recently lived there for 8 1/2 years, and those years left an indelible imprint on my life. Klosterman no longer lives in North Dakota, yet he writes in a way that attempts to extract meaning from his life in North Dakota that only distance provides. As I am neither a book critic or well-read, I wonder if Klosterman is unique in his depiction of the NGP, one who understands the cultural characteristics of NGP life and actually names them with a bit of critique and an abiding affection (Klosterman dedicates the novel to "Melissa" and "North Dakota." The only author I can recall who comes close is Garrison Keillor (is Klosterman a sort of Gen X Keillor? I'm waiting for Klosterman's new book in October). The major difference I would note is Keillor's distinct use of sarcasm is mostly absent in Klosterman. Where Keillor gave me humorous insights to cultural quirks in the NGP, Klosterman has helped me extract meaning from my experiences in the NGP over the past 8 years.

As a pastor in the NGP, I served in places like Owl, North Dakota, but I never lived there. I always went home to the big city to sleep in my bed with my dear wife. I attended basketball games, I ate at the local cafes, I observed teenage socialization, I observed particular family dynamics, I participated in senior citizen philosophical symposiums in church basements and local eateries. After all of those years in NGP ministry, I learned that though I had a passport into strange places in people's lives that few (if any) other people had, most people behave differently in the known proximity of their pastor. Therefore there was much I didn't see in people's basic lives. Klosterman provided plausible and interesting depictions of characters with whom I interacted in the congregations I served--but I also didn't get to know. Klosterman filled in some curious gaps for me. Even though Klosterman claims his work is not autobiographical, he is writing about what he knows. Though Klosterman creates an omniscient narrator for Downtown Owl, I feel like the novel represents getting together with a friend to compare and contrast life in particular towns of which Klosterman knows.

After reading reviews of Downtown Owl from Entertainment Weekly and The New York Times. Both reviewers critique Klosterman's level of omniscience, that Downtown Owl reads too much like a Klosterman essay, with nimble cultural commentary that is sometimes distracting from character development. This critique may or may not be valid; I suppose it may depend on why you're reading the book. Though I didn't necessarily care about all of Klosterman's cultural commentary from the narrator, I'm not sure Klosterman cares if a reader resonates with all of his references. I believe that is his style. He gives his readers too much to think about, but writes in a way that says, "enjoy what you can, gain insight from what you can, toss aside the rest. It doesn't bother me." Sure, some of Klosterman's social commentaries may have been superfluous to character development, but it didn't take away from my personal resonance with the characters and the general observations about Owl compared to the rest of America. I was still able to extract meaning in light of my own experiences that made me laugh and think on multiple levels. Few authors have that kind of cache with me, which is why I finished the book in a week.

If you want to learn more about Klosterman, check out his two-part podcast appearance with Bill Simmons from ESPN (look for June 28-29). My big learning from these podcasts was that the only way Klosterman was able to get his novel published was that Downtown Owl was part of a two book deal, the other being a book of essays (to be released October 2009). I'm glad Klosterman has the kind of leverage that he can write out of his own creative place and not merely what some believe the market will bear. I hope that Downtown Owl sold enough books that Klosterman will write another novel.

Post script on books: Klosterman was about the only reading distraction I had to finishing Tess of the D'Urbervilles this week. In the quest for something new, Christopher Hitchens "god is not Great" was available at my local library branch. Though somewhat interesting, Hitchens won't eclipse Tess on my priority list. But something else may come along...

More on the hot topic of North Dakota

Yet another reason why North Dakota is cool.

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.

An evolving relationship with coffee (part 1)

I live in a borderland region between idealism and pragmatism. Nothing has made me realize such borderland living than raising children.

Life in idealism says that I have control in my life. I do not need the typical human aides for day to day life. Life in pragmatism says that I need to make choices that will allow me to uphold my values even when those choices may go against personal preferences in the short term. I do not write of a deep ethical deliberation, I write about my evolving relationship with coffee--from the place of idealism to pragmatism.

The prominent adults in my life, except for my father, began their day and jolted their mid-day with a terrible product I knew as Taster's Choice instant coffee. The brown crystalline powder smelled of landfill dirt laced with acid. My Mom and Granddad drank it, and it was the one drink in the house (besides booze) that it was easy from which to keep me. Despite its mysterious aversive qualities, that green or red decorated glass jar was a morning icon of sorts. This instant coffee, in all its putridity, signified grown-up culture. The grown-ups knew something that the children did not know. For all I wanted to know about being a grown-up, this coffee substance was a mystery for which I had no complaint. Occasionally I tried to drink from this mystery, only to send shudders throughout my nerve endings. It was something that my love for straight sugar could not serve. Though I could eat straight sugar cubes and spoonfuls of brown sugar, not even piles of sugar at the church coffee stop could make that dirty liquid taste appealing, even with a deep desire to be a grown-up myself, it still tasted terrible.

I avoided coffee throughout most of my teenage years. When my friends started drinking coffee on late night trips to Denny's or local coffee houses, I discovered a more palatable bitter beverage. Earl Grey became my bitter beverage of choice--it provided an enjoyable jolt and for some reason I enjoyed its bitter better. I think it may have tasted better because it became the beverage of my ever expanding ideas of the world--late night discussions with friends.

For some reason, I moved away from Earl Grey during my undergraduate days at the University of Kansas. Somehow the name Earl Grey doesn't match Kansas. While some drank coffee at all night study sessions, I surmised I needed to make the cultural leap toward coffee. At the church that opened its doors to late night studiers with coffee and donuts in Lawrence--I took a sip of coffee and thought I needed to find something else--all of the awful memories of this drink did not change. The commercials for General Foods International Coffees gave me an image of hot cocoa with a jolt. This beverage still tasted putrid to me. I moved on to Mountain Dew to get me through the study session. After attempting 4 all night sessions, falling asleep during one of my Russian History final examination, I learned that studying throughout the semester and sleeping well was a better equation for academic success than stimulant beverages.

When I continued my academic career in Minnesota, I was more immersed in Lutheran culture than ever before, and that jokes about coffee culture that I thought were exaggerated were not tall tales. Some said that along with Baptism and Communion coffee was the "third Sacrament." Coffee appeared to be a social pillar like cigarettes or alcohol--I wondered if a group of Minnesotans couldn't get together without sharing coffee. I loved Minnesota, and it represented a huge positive shift in my life, but this was a cultural institution I wanted to avoid. Looking back, I still wanted to maintain my own identity in this powerful cultural milieu. If you don't believe that Northern Great Plains/Upper Midwest Lutheranism is not a powerful cultural milieu, consider Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion. I once believed this was a comedic exaggeration I would never understand, but learned in 16 years of living in the heart of Northern Great Plains/Upper Midwest Lutheran culture, that it is no comedic exaggeration, but only highlighting cultural idiosyncrasies with gifted storytelling with a willingness not to take self too seriously. Avoiding coffee was my way of still maintaining self in the midst of strong formational cultural presence. These cultural distinctions appear not to matter much, but I think these cultural interactions we witness in the midst of a mobile society offer all kinds of points about how we create culture and how we as humans build relationships and societies.

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.

Balancing the serious

Thank you, Onion, for giving me material so that I don't have to be too serious with posts. Even I can only read and write so much moderately serious, poor theology.

Mr. Mom 2.0

Mr. Mom was a household favorite growing up. The movie had some favorite one-liners to which guys gravitate. My Dad's favorites:

"You want some chili?"
"Kenny, don't paint your sister!"

My favorite (regarding re-wiring the house):
"Are you going to do it in 220?"
"220. 221. Whatever it takes."

Making any Dad out to be the lovable loser is big in the entertainment business. Everybody Loves Raymond, According to Jim, Yes Dear (you can probably name others). Mr. Mom was on the cutting edge of this father image trend. Interesting, there's no such thing as the lovable loser mother, although they have their own set of lousy images, like the controlling shrew in Desparate Housewives.

I don't think the father image is served well by more serious images of fathers either in Leave It To Beaver or in Seventh Heaven. These fathers don't seem real. They're always right and wise. Today I faced a day at home where it seems like my biggest accomplishment was taking a nap. I did a little laundry (didn't "finish" it), filled out some medical forms for my oldest daughter (didn't finish those, either), created a blog post (sure I finished that, but is this worthwhile writing?), cleaned the kitchen, talked with the 2 year old, made lunch, paid bills, read the Bible. Now that I write all of these things out, it doesn't appear so bad. I remember days working outside the home when it seemed like I didn't accomplish anything--so staying at home does not have its own category of a low sense of accomplishment.

My self-esteem bubble functions well without entertainment affirmation, but I am interested in the experiences of other fathers who stay at home. Though I am still an idealist, being a stay-at-home father has eliminated my notion of the idealized self. This view of myself is not a negative, in fact, maybe I have grown in a way similar to pruning. I have been cared for in a way that I will grown in the future. When I do serve in a congregation again full-time (I'm not sure when that will happen), how will my experience dealing with poop, talking a lot with a two-year old, serving as a full-time home economist, creating a good environment for child development, and supporting my dear wife in her employment affect my next chapter of service?

I don't know if I will ever learn more about the other experiences of stay-at-home dads. The role was far from being insitutionalized in South Dakota, and my current transportation situation in the Seattle-Tacoma metro doesn't lend itself to easy day dad connections. Most days I feel good about what I have been doing for the health of my family. Our children needed the stability of a parent at home. This role application was for the health of our family. The days where it doesn't feel like I accomplish much take on a different weight. If I have a bad day at church, maybe I can leave that at church. If I have a not so good day at home, my children are more directly affected.

My former spritual director told me that stay-at-home parenting was a lot like living a cloistered life. The activities of the day may be mundane, but they are also prayerful--they uphold the health, well-being and growth of children. I will not wax romantic about the stay-at-home mothers or parent's roll. My dear wife and I discerned at length the best path for our family. We assess the gifts and resources of our household, pray that God will give us wisdom, and chart a path. We hope to teach our daughters the value of shared family discernment, and I believe we have modeled that in these days. I will never forget these two years of Mr. Mom 2.0.

A Puyallup pronunciation update (Thanks, John Keister)

I'm a bit pathetic for following up on the Puyallup pronunciation issue but I have a little more time on my hands than usual these days. Time to continue building a house on my childish impulse.

While sitting with my youngest daughter in the ER a few weeks ago during the beginning wee hours of the morning, I discovered that KING-TV in Seattle was playing re-runs of Almost Live! at 1am. I'm not usually awake at that time, and with accumulating preaching opportunities in the summer months, Saturday night TV viewing will be further on the decline. Almost Live! is a PNW cult local sketch comedy favorite--KING-TV would delay Saturday Night Live even longer because Almost Live! was such a hit. The sketches have mostly local appeal, like "High Five'n White Guys," "Cops in Wallingford (imagine a population of combination upper middle class/hippy/new age intellectuals--where you can get arrested for not having sprouts on your sandwich or giving a "bad vibe")," The Ballard Driving Academy" and "The Lame List." Many of these sketches can be found on YouTube.

Ross Schaefer was the first host/head comedian of the show, but it gained it's edge and expanded popularity with John Keister. Keister was the leader of the local comedy cult that met on Saturday nights, both in Seattle and in homes all over the Puget Sound area. I remember interrupting Saturday night activities to check out what Keister, Pat Cashman, Nancy Guppy and the rest of the troupe could deliver that evening. This was not a flashy production, as Keister's Weekend Update modeled news show revealed, simply called "The John Report." Keisters opening: "This is the John Report. I'm John. Here's my report." Then he proceeded to make fun of places like Tukwila, Kent and of course, Puyallup through local news stories. No one would ever doubt John's Puget Sound region cultural cred--I have noted in my recent and expanding longitudnal study of Almost Live! that John pronounced Puyallup both with the "Al" sound and the "All" sound. I call on anyone in the Puget Sound region to challenge the cultural authority of John Keister.

Maher: worthy atheist or merely a comedian dabbling into theological inquiry?

I confess--my mind is tied to nesting activities, caring for my children, trying to find a job, and mediocre comfort-food radio. Or, I am too lazy to read the neo-atheists Hitchens, Dawkins, Harris. I declared hope and intent for reading some of this philisophical strain, but it's so much easier to go to my local Hollywood Video and rent Bill Maher's comic religion documentary Religulous.

I have disappointed myself that I am intellectually lazy and procrastinating working with the aforementioned authors. However, at the very least, Maher has made me think more about contemporary agnostics and atheists than I have in a long time. Before anyone takes Maher too seriously, one must remember throughout the film that he is primarily a comedian. Yes, he has some of the best guests in the field of mainstream news commentary--I am continually amazed who he is able to get as a guest on his show, Real Time With Bill Maher. Even if you do not subscribe to HBO, you can get a podcast of his full show, plus extras on iTunes. I listen to the show every week. I can't tell if Maher is disingenuous, but his mix of comedy and serious inquiry falls flat. He calls for atheists (which he claims is 16 percent of the US population) to be more part of the public discourse on religion. Maher has a poor foundation in that he claims he is an athiest, though he also proclaims that he doesn't know about God, that God cannot be proved or disproved. This is an agnostic view. The purpose of this call is that the Earth hangs in the balance--that the good that religion produces is not worth the danger and terror created in the world by religous fundamentalists of all faith traditions. Maher may have been better off if he would have explained his call and his intentions at the beginning of the film, but then again, I have to remember that Maher is a comedian trying to get people to buy and watch his film--he wouldn't have been able to do that if he was authentically trying to do a scientific study of religion and its affect on society. But I will bite on what I believe is his foundational premise (though I don't want to put words in his mouth): agnostics and athiests should be part of public discourse regarding religion and society.

Instead, Maher exposes several fools of many different faiths, skewed more toward Christianity. Only one of Maher's many interviewees seemed to carry on an intelligent conversation with Maher (an astonomer from the Vatican). Maher cherry-picked these numerous conversations so that almost all of his interviewees looked like boobs, and Maher displayed a look of gotcha, followed by some kind of funny clip to highlight the gotcha. My dear wife looked at me and said, "Couldn't he have at least interviewed some intelligent Christians?" Maybe an intelligent Christian wouldn't dare talk to Bill Maher on Maher's terms, because the only result is that an interviewee will look like a boob. Maher even got the lead scientist of the Human Genome Project (a Christian) to look like a boob. I probably would have also looked like a boob if interviewed by Maher. This may be part of Maher's point--that intelligent religious folk really don't amount to enough societal benefit to offset the fools and sometimes dangerous fools that he highlights. It's especially not worth it, when it goes back to Maher's foundational understanding that God cannot be proven or disproven.

My summary response to the film:

1. Remember, Bill Maher is primarily a comedian..
2. The movie has some very funny parts.
3. Bill Maher is an agnostic and uses comedy to provoke people of faith, other agnostics and atheists into public discourse regarding religion--it really can't be seen as a scientific study of religion or even a journalistic venture, and it's hard to say it's a documentary. The closest identification I can make is: Religulous is a non-fiction religious comedy (and definitely in the Rated R category).
4. If Maher was really making a genuine academic or at least journalistic effort, he would have at least had some appropriate advisors checking his facts and pointing out that the last book in the Bible is not "Revelations (a mistake he made at least 3 times.)"