A Fresh Start

Once upon a time I was into blogging. 

That's an understatement. I was HUGE into blogging. I was committed to posting at least twice per week plus a weekly "top ten" list that was posted each Saturday. The theme of my blog? Marriage. Specifically husbands. I spoke into the heart of husbands from a biblical point of view. My diligence was rewarded with a spot on the "Top 100 Marriage Blogs."

Then I stopped. Cold. My reasons were personal and complicated, but suffice it to say I decided to take a much needed lengthy hiatus. I'm sure some readers wondered what happened to the ol' boy. I never explained the shut down. I simply faded into oblivion.

The thing is, my writing was amateurish at best, with little emphasis on grammar and no hint whatsoever of political correctness. It was a no-holds-barred series of articles that sometimes made my wife, myself, and my audience blush. I never claimed to hold any degree of expertise on the subject of Christian marriage, or set myself as a shining example of the perfect husband (just ask my wife) LOL.  However, what I did accomplish through my voracious consumption of writings by marriage experts was to send forth a wealth of other people's research (correctly cited, of course) and opinions to an audience of men and women whom I suppose in some way needed it at the time. 

Well, here I am six years in the future and I have the urge to write - to set my opinions free to make a life of their own in the blogosphere (do they still use that word)? I have no agenda here, no theme, no overall focus. Sometimes the posts will make sense only to me. Sometimes, I pray, they will speak to at least one other like-minded soul. 

Here it is. A fresh start.

Pizza Night

Friday is pizza night. It's been that way for a very long time. And because I'm a cheapskate we generally make our own pizza. Crust, sauce, the works. Every Friday.

Tonight my father-in-law treated us to pizza from a genuine pizza place. It's been a long, long time. It was so, so delicious.

I made the trip with the old boy to pick up the pies. As we walked through the door, the first thing that struck me was the familiar ambiance. A few tables, a cooler with soda and water, pizza ovens, and a counter with glass display case containing a variety of pizzas.

And the aroma. (*breathe in  s-l-o-w-l-y) There isn't anything else on earth like the beautiful fragrance of a genuine pizza joint.
The yeasty, cheesy, saucy, greasy aroma.

Ahhhhh ..........

Thank You, and Goodbye.

The original cornerstone

This is a hard subject to discuss out loud, so I’ll have to write it here. I’ve been singing and sighing, and yes, weeping a little bit today. It was a wonderful, difficult, productive, sad day. It was a day filled with gathering and letting go.

For almost fifteen years I was the minister of music at a large United Methodist church in Pennsylvania. Sadly the church which was once a thriving center of community events is now in disrepair with only a handful of members. The congregation has scheduled their final worship service in January.

Front view of new sanctuary Original sanctuary is in the background

This is the church where I grew up, was baptized and confirmed, and began my career. My wife and I were married in the sanctuary in front of almost 400 people. My mother was the organist there for more than 20 years. Leaving was one of the most difficult decisions we ever made, but I knew I had to change direction to plan for a family. After leaving I was invited back at the dying request of a dear member who asked that I direct the choir at her funeral. We only returned a handful of times after that.

Until …

A few days ago I received a text from a childhood friend, asking if I would like to have some choir music from the church. A million emotions gathered at once in my heart. “I haven’t set foot in the choir room since Dolly’s funeral. I don’t know if I can handle the emotional flood,” was my first thought. I wasn’t sure what would happen. I knew it would be good to have closure, but I also knew it would be eerily familiar and awkward at the same time.

A small sample of the music in the cabinets

I accepted the offer and met his wife at the church this morning. The building itself was mostly the same, with a few exceptions, mostly due to areas that are no longer accessible due to structural damage. It made me both happy and sad to be allowed into the building to explore my territory and write a conclusion to my story.

We sorted through five large cabinets filled with choir octavos, cantatas, sheet music, hymnals, and other books. As I looked at the years of musical memories, I recounted stories of the music, the church, members, former pastors, friends, celebrations, and sadness.  

2-manual Rogers organ

I took some pictures and walked around the classrooms, social hall, kitchen (what I wouldn’t give to have those pizza ovens in our church in NY), and sanctuary. I sat where my mom sat and played the Rogers organ one last time. It sounded glorious as always.

I was given a gift today. Not just the physical gift of music, but a chance to travel back in time to relive a treasured experience in a very personal way – a way that no one else will or can understand.

Thank you, Lord, for allowing me on last look around.

“A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;”

~Ecclesiates 3:6

Center aisle, looking toward the narthex.

  

Blessings

It's Thanksgiving Day and just like everyone else, I have much for which to be thankful today.

As many of you know, we experienced a very expensive summer, causing us to become very creative with ramen noodles, elbow macaroni, ground beef, tuna, and portable cooking appliances. I'm not telling you this to bemoan all of our misfortunes, but to count our many blessings amidst the trials.

Here are just a few ....

We have a functioning washer and dryer, and a much more luxurious refrigerator than I have ever owned.

We always seem to have all the food we need. What we are unable to buy is usually provided by through other means. Whether through a surplus (our children volunteer at the local food pantry) or generous friends, we always have plenty to eat.

We have been able to repair two of our vehicles. I can drive to work and leave a car at home for my wife and children when they need one.

We have learned to create meals without an oven. Recently some very dear friends loaned us a counter-top convection oven. It has been a godsend to our family. We still have retained our electric skillet repertoire because, honestly, skillet lasagna is phenomenal and fast!

We received a monetary gift, the result of which will allow us to purchase an oven in the very near future.

I was able to negotiate and restructure to bring a huge monthly bill current, which will relieve a huge source of family anxiety.

Another dear friend came to the rescue, knowing that I am forbidden to climb (long story short, I'm a fall risk), and tarped a hole in our garage roof.

So, while it may seem to the outside world that our life is filled with woe and burden, it actually overflows with blessings bestowed on us by our Lord, through our family and friends.

Thanks be to God!

And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. 

~Philippians 4:19~

hiatus. noun.

hiatus. noun.

2.  an interruption in time or continuity : BREAK

especially : a period when something (such as a program or activity) is suspended or interrupted

after a 5-year hiatus from writing

....

Why the definition?  Simple. It's because I took an unintentional hiatus from blogging.  Sometimes stuff happens, though not planned, that interferes with one's best laid plans. That's what happened to this blog and my writing thereof. One busy day led to another, and another, and before I knew it, two and a half years passed without a single word passing from my heart though my fingers to the blogosphere.

That said, I'm here to revive this endeavor with a new outlook and perhaps a fresh coat of paint and a name change. (Not sure about that. Not yet, anyway.)

Fasten your seat belts. I'll be scribbling and bibbling about many topics, sharing memories, and waxing poetical. I'll be sharing this chaotic mind with the world, or as much of it as care to listen.

There is little doubt my words will find disagreement with some of you. My heart bleeds for you (*cough*).  In that case the only words of advice I will offer is that you cover your eyes, refrain from viewing the offensive bits, and read only the words that suit your palette.  I will make no apologies for the manner in which my mind spews forth joy onto the page. It is what it is.

Now give me a day or so to organize my thoughts ....

Today Is Happy Kids Day

Today is my mother's birthday. The year she died my son Linus declared her birthday to be "Happy Kids' Day." He didn't know it would be her last birthday on this earth.

Enjoying a Fluffer-Nutter

His idea was to do all those things Nana (Mom) would have done with them on her birthday.

This year we were in Ocean City. Mom loved the beach. She and Dad would whisk us off to Wildwood or Atlantic City for the weekend, sometimes several times a year. I'm glad we were here this year.

We frolicked in the ocean and ate fluffer-nutter sandwiches. We watched TV and lay around like slugs. We walked across the bridge and took some great pictures of the inlet (including a stunning capture of Pier 4 at sunset).

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Christmas Reflections 2015

We took a few days off this Christmas season to visit with my wife's family in the next state.  It's always fun to pack a bunch of people into a house and watch the kids play together while the grown-ups enjoy grown-up conversation and WAY TOO MUCH COFFEE.

We sang Christmas carols and lit candles in church. We ate ham and lots of cookies and drank egg nog.

Gifts at home this year mostly consisted of whatever we could stuff into their stockings, with a few little odds and ends for each person. You see, our budget took several significant hits this year such as an unplanned car purchase and one enormous hospital bill.

I am continually amazed by the love and understanding of our kids.  They LOVE opening their stockings so much they couldn't care less about other gifts.

Christmas is good.

The Sky At Night

Sometimes the sky here is very clear, I mean so clear that you can see the stars between the stars. At least that's what the tell me.  I used to be able to see all the stars, but sadly I can now only see the very brightest ones.

"Look at that! Is that Pleiades?"

"I don't know, but I do know that's the dipper."

(*sigh*)

Eyesight is a very nice thing when you have it, and a rather nasty thing when you lose it.

And even worse when you know what you used to be able to see. But can't.

That is all.

The Man Is A Hero.

Last week we took our annual family trip to Knoebel’s Amusement Resort, a wonderful amusement park filled with family friendly rides as well as plenty of water rides, thrill rides, and kiddie rides to make the entire family happy.

Oh, yeah, and did I mention the food? The Food Network rated Knoebel’s food “The Best Amusement Park Food in America.”  

So, we arrived, ate lunch, rode the rides, and had a great time!

There was, however, one kid who didn’t have such a great day, and I have a feeling he didn’t have such a great ride home, either.

Here’s why … 

We put a few of the kids on a ride called “Roto Jets,” which is basically a bunch of rockets that spin in a circle while also moving up and down. 

Anyway, three of our kids, along with their cousin, were just starting the ride when a kid stood up in the rocket behind my son. The ride operator yelled for the kid to sit down, but he wouldn’t sit. The man then stopped the ride, gently and safely, making sure that all the rockets slowed down and descended from way up there.

But before the rockets could descend or stop completely, the boy jumped from his rocket to the inside of the ride, where the spinning arms that operated the rockets missed his head by a fraction of an inch, while the ride continued to move, slowly coming to a stop.

The operator stood, pointed and yelled at the boy to freeze and not move a muscle.

The ride stopped, the operator, surrounded by several park officials, picked the boy up and he ran to his parents, who walked away with him.

I’m writing this down for several reasons.

First, I want the park to know from an actual witness the events as they happened, as they seemingly took no names or statements at the time, and did not detain the boy or his family to take a statement.

Secondly, I want the park to know that in my opinion the ride operator acted superbly in a frightful situation. He remained calm but stern, only yelling to keep the child from being killed. I’m not sure I would have been as calm as he. Excellent job!

Finally, I want to reiterate to my children, just as I did when it happened, that rules exist for a reason, even on park rides.

• Yes, you have to fasten the seat belt.
• Yes, you have to be tall enough to ride.
•  No, you may not stand up while the ride is moving.

The man who was operating the Roto Jets averted a disaster. He is a hero.

That is all.

Jelly Beans, Anyone?

Jelly beans. You either love 'em or hate 'em. I happen to love them, even though they are considered first degree contraband in our house.

There are many ways to eat jelly beans .

• 
  
• take a handful, line them up by color, then eat the color with the most beans first, then the next largest, etc.
• dump out a pile of them, and eat random beans, one at a time.
• pick through the bag, eating all except you favorite flavor, saving the best for last.
• arrange them by flavor combinations, ie: lemon-lime, strawberry-pineapple, etc.

Or there is my favorite way to eat them ...

Just shove a handful of them into your mouth and chew. Yes, it's random and disturbing, but every time I eat them the flavor combination is slightly different, especially when they are "gourmet" jelly beans.

Well, there you have it.   Aren't you glad I told you?

The Lettuce Is Greener On The Other Side??

It's really quite simple. Chopped iceberg lettuce, sliced onions, sliced black olives, shredded mozzarella, and good Italian dressing (not the sweet bargain brand). It's my favorite salad.

“Iceberg lettuce?? EWWWWWW!!!!” That's what most of my friends would say.

“I don't like iceberg.”

“I will only buy the organic dark greens.”

“Iceberg doesn't have any flavor.”

“We only use baby spinach and Romaine.”

Yeah, yeah (blah, blah, blah) …. Well, guess what? For every person who says they are absolutely disgusted by the mere suggestion that their salad might contain traces of this obviously poisonous vegetable, there are probably fifteen heads sold.

So … if no one I know likes it or would dare inflict it upon their delicate constitutions, then who is buying it?? Why are there so many heads in the produce aisle? Why do I see people walking around with 2 or 3 of them in their shopping carts?

I can only infer a couple possible answers.

1. Most of my friends are pretentious snobs.
2. Most of my friends are full of baloney.

Or maybe it's none of the above. Maybe I'm the only person on earth who buys the stuff.

Yeah. That must be it.

A Brisket In Every Pot

There's a brisket on the stove, slowly coming to a boil.  It's going to simmer for three hours. Then it will sit for twenty minutes in the water before I remove it to cool. After it cools it will take a wild ride (one chunk at a time) in the food processor, then get spooned (okay, dumped) out onto several pieces of waxed paper, which are then rolled into tubes and frozen.

Why do I go through all this trouble?  Why not just buy a can or two of corned beef from the local grocery store? 

Two reasons:



1. Price - Have you seen the price of canned corned beef??  Mama Mia!!  The cost of one can is usually somewhere around $4.99 and in most cases it isn't even a full pound. When it's on sale brisket is a full buck cheaper and I can usually get the equivalent of six cans out of one large hunk of meat. (Nana would be proud.)

2. Flavor - The canned stuff tastes a little bit like dog food smells. Yeah, I know that was an awkward sentence. Nevertheless, it does, and while corned beef is an acquired taste to begin with (especially the boiled stuff), I think I can do better. 

You might ask if we will be having the "traditional" corned beef and cabbage for St. Patrick's Day. Um ... probably not.  First of all, they don't really eat corned beef and cabbage in Ireland. It's an American thing.  We'll probably have Guinness Stew and colcannon, both of which are traditional Irish dishes. 

So, why the brisket?  Well, because it was on sale, we like it, and I'm cheap.  Why else?

BANG! BANG! ... Then The Cops Showed Up.

BANG! 

What was that??!?!! 

I'm not sure ...

BANG! BANG!


It was a fun filled day of presentations and meetings; the kind of day that makes teachers all over the country roll their eyes and moan and groan to each other about the lack of alone-time in their classrooms to catch up on "real" work. I have to admit that overall it was an interesting and inspiring day in spite of everyone's reluctance to participate.

But it was what happened during the "active shooter" portion of our day that took the most interesting turn. I was helping a colleague with an emergency and was not in the room where the presentation was taking place when we heard what sounded like a book hitting the floor. Very hard. Then another. And another and another. Then a few more at a distance. By the time the second shot was fired (right outside the door) we realized the sound was not dropping books, but bullets being fired from a pistol. We knew about the active shooter training, but didn't know what form it would take, and in that moment weren't sure what to do.

We (I) turned off the light like that wouldn't tip off a shooter and we stood against the smartboard and made ourselves "skinny" so that we couldn't be seen from the door (and if you knew the current size of my stomach you would definitely see the irony).

It turned out to be a local police officer shooting blanks in the corridors to demonstrate the actual sound of a live shooter In the building.

In the moments when I heard the gunshots a dichotomy of thoughts occurred within me. On one side was the set of protocols that I'm required to follow (lock the door, hide the students, etc.) while on the other side was the curious little boy who wanted to peek out the door to see what was happening in the corridor. Also circling in my mind were a few questions:

1. There are three doors in this room. Which one will we run for if this jerk comes in here?
2. How much stuff can I grab to hurl at the guy?
3. Where will I hide my students?

I did, in fact, peak out the door to get a look at the person outside the door, and in that split second I realized how easy and innocently a student could die at the hands of a shooter. I realized that in the event of an actual event, all bets are off.

It was a very interesting day. Indeed. 

I have a whole new perspective.

50 ... And Beyond

I turned 50. 

Saying it out loud brings a simultaneous sense of triumphant arrival and inward reflection. 

On one level I feel young and invincible like I was in my college years.  On another I feel the weight of tiny complaints of the back, kidney, eyesight, ashen hair, forgetfulness and hypertension my doctor warned me about so many years ago. 

 

Funny thing is, it doesn’t seem like so many years ago, but rather yesterday 

… fishing with Papap at Lake Irene … 

... walking to Emily’s store all by myself … 

... sledding down Mill Hill (waking up in the hospital) … 

... getting a haircut at “Honest Frank’s” barber shop … 

... riding my bike to Uncle Harold’s house (Aunt Fern always had cookies) ... 

... skateboarding down the hill to my grandmother’s house ... 

... joining boy scouts … 

... attending the first day of junior high (felt so grown up) … 

... taking a date to the “Queen of Hearts” dance … 

... becoming a mime … 

... getting my driver’s license …

... feeling a broken heart up close … 

... going to college … 

... auditioning for my first real show ...

... graduating ...

... working with Dad … 

... working with Mom … 

... meeting the love of my life … 

... proposing on Christmas Eve … 

... becoming a husband … 

... becoming a father … 

... losing a house … 

... losing a father … 

... losing a mother … 

... becoming 50.

I’ve been thinking about what is next. What do I want the rest of my life to look like? What do I want to do as I grow up? The reality is that I have lived far more years than I have yet to live on this earth.  What is my vision for the remainder? 

I’ll have to get back to you on that.  Right now I have a life to live.