Friday, January 2, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Savage Disregard
NOTE: I also posted this on Four Freedoms, a progressive blog community I frequent.
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A little over four years ago, my wife woke me up at 5 in the morning to tell me her water had broken, and it was time for our baby to be born. I got a few things together in a travel bag and we rushed to the hospital in our little town in Virginia. After 18 hours of labor, our son Ian made his debut in the world, and he was the most beautiful sight we had ever seen.
As our son grew, my wife and I suspected there was something different about him. Though he was developmentally ahead of other children his age in many areas, his speech and social skills seemed to fall farther and farther behind. He would have bursts of anger that would come from nowhere, and seemingly innocuous social interactions seemed to result in biting or hitting. We sought the help of our pediatrician, who advised us that in his opinion Ian had high-functioning autism. My wife and I were a bit stunned by the news, but made arrangements through the county to get him the help he (and we) needed through the school system.
Just as we were beginning this program, my wife got a job in Georgia, and we moved, finding we had to begin the certification/diagnosis process all over again. We went round and round with our school district over the best course of development for Ian, how much special education he needed, how he should be categorized, etc. The struggle has been long and frustrating, and although we parents, the school system, and our son have made some progress, there is still a long way to go before we all reach a satisfactory resolution.
In the meantime, we have met other people in our community, in our church, and in Ian’s daycare center who are doing what they can to make him feel more at ease with others and to have some sense of normalcy in his life. There are those around us who I feel don’t quite understand his condition, and who may even believe that his actions are actually the result of “bad parenting”, but they have at least had the decorum to not try and call us out.
Is this about to change, though? Late last week Michael Savage, on his radio show, said the following about autistics and their parents (courtesy Media Matters):
So many inflammatory statements, so little time. Where do I begin? Well, let’s go paragraph by paragraph. First, there is the comparison of the increase in diagnosed autism to the supposed increase in asthma cases in minority schoolchildren, which he describes as a “racket” to secure extra welfare and scholastic help. The asthma claim is an amazing one in and of itself. When one reads this article from the American Women’s Medical Association, however, one sees that asthma is a result of being on the public dole, rather than some far-fetched impetus. According to the conclusion:
Moving on to the next paragraph, we find Savage’s claim that an amazing 99% of autism cases are more behavioral than medical. Notice the choice of number. It basically allows Savage an out from his accusations and rhetoric. If a parent of an autistic were to personally confront him on the 99% figure, he could simply say, “Well, I didn’t mean it about your kid. I just meant the other 297,000 children; they’re all a bunch of brats.” He tried to worm his way out of his comments, but we’ll get back to that in a moment.
I have to take the last 2 ½ paragraphs as a whole. As the father of a high-functioning autistic, I have a little bit of experience in trying to deal with my son’s outbursts and inability to function in public, and I can tell you that shouting at an autistic child does not work. Again, we are dealing with a medical condition and NOT a behavior problem.
It is difficult to describe the feeling of telling your four-year old that he shouldn’t hit someone who enters his personal space over and over again, only to get a report from daycare that he has hit and/or bitten another child. To Ian’s credit, he has improved in this area in recent months, but it came as a result of constant work on our part as well as on the school system and the teachers at his daycare.
As to the implication that sensitivity to your child’s feelings somehow leads to “a nation of losers and beaten men”, let me just say that I know from personal experience that severe verbal and physical punishments are far more of a hindrance than a help. If Savage feels that his own father’s abusiveness was instrumental in making him the man that he is, then that’s his prerogative; however, I do not think it is an appropriate measure for children in general, autistic or not.
As you might imagine, Savage’s remarks got a bit of play on the internet, and several autism advocacy groups immediately took exception to his diagnosis and recommendation for “curing” autism. To that end, Michael Savage did the only thing he believed he should do. He attacked the messenger. He claimed that his remarks were taken out of context, but he stood by his remarks, that he wasn’t talking about all or even any autistics. He deigned to appear on CNN to be interviewed about the controversy by (of all people) Glenn Beck. There was even a defense of Savage on Renew America by columnist Selwyn Duke, with a screed entitled "Judgementally impared should get off Michael Savage's back". Thus the bully, his nose bloodied for his actions, now runs through the streets crying his victimhood.
I will say this. I don’t hate Michael Savage. I try not to “hate” anyone; it’s just my nature. In looking at those on the opposite end of the ideological spectrum, I have made it a point to find at least one good thing about them (which I may explore in another column, someday). With Savage it is this. I have actually found myself enjoying listening to him on the increasingly rare moments when he reminisces on his childhood and youth. In those moments, I wish that he would ditch the “Savage Nation” shtick and reinvent himself as a storyteller. I also give him grudging credit for breaking the story of the Dubai port deal of 2006; it may be the only time that most liberals found themselves in agreement with Savage on any position.
That said, I must say that his remarks on the 16th filled me with such contempt that I wished I could have faced him down to dare him to say those words to my face. Additionally, I can’t pretend that I don’t feel some sense of schadenfreude at the news that Savage has lost AFLAC as a national sponsor of his show, or that he has been thrown off the air on a number of Mississippi radio stations.
I believe in free speech, and I don’t believe that Michael Savage should be completely thrown off the air. BUT, I also believe that his right to flail at autistic children, and the parents who are doing everything they can to get treatment for those children, should not be met with silence and complacency. I especially do not believe that he should be paid for the purpose of attacking children. Is there a possibility of overdiagnosis? Maybe, but I tend to believe that the increase in autism cases is a result of pediatricians being better trained and equipped to diagnose the symptoms and seek treatment for the affected. I hope and pray that his words don’t make it a harder climb for my family, or the family of any other child with autism.
Savage, like so many of his conservative media brethren, labors under the assumption that they can act with immunity to the rules of civility. It is the right and duty of the general public to let Savage and his ilk know when they have crossed the line. Read up on autism, find out what real experts have to say about the spectrum of disorders, and let your local Savage affiliate know what's being said on their airwaves during "his" hours on the air.
Autism Speaks
Autism United
Autism Society of America
National Autism Association
-------------------------------------------------------------
A little over four years ago, my wife woke me up at 5 in the morning to tell me her water had broken, and it was time for our baby to be born. I got a few things together in a travel bag and we rushed to the hospital in our little town in Virginia. After 18 hours of labor, our son Ian made his debut in the world, and he was the most beautiful sight we had ever seen.
As our son grew, my wife and I suspected there was something different about him. Though he was developmentally ahead of other children his age in many areas, his speech and social skills seemed to fall farther and farther behind. He would have bursts of anger that would come from nowhere, and seemingly innocuous social interactions seemed to result in biting or hitting. We sought the help of our pediatrician, who advised us that in his opinion Ian had high-functioning autism. My wife and I were a bit stunned by the news, but made arrangements through the county to get him the help he (and we) needed through the school system.
Just as we were beginning this program, my wife got a job in Georgia, and we moved, finding we had to begin the certification/diagnosis process all over again. We went round and round with our school district over the best course of development for Ian, how much special education he needed, how he should be categorized, etc. The struggle has been long and frustrating, and although we parents, the school system, and our son have made some progress, there is still a long way to go before we all reach a satisfactory resolution.
In the meantime, we have met other people in our community, in our church, and in Ian’s daycare center who are doing what they can to make him feel more at ease with others and to have some sense of normalcy in his life. There are those around us who I feel don’t quite understand his condition, and who may even believe that his actions are actually the result of “bad parenting”, but they have at least had the decorum to not try and call us out.
Is this about to change, though? Late last week Michael Savage, on his radio show, said the following about autistics and their parents (courtesy Media Matters):
“Now, you want me to tell you my opinion on autism, since I'm not talking about autism? A fraud, a racket. For a long while, we were hearing that every minority child had asthma. Why did they sudden -- why was there an asthma epidemic amongst minority children? Because I'll tell you why: The children got extra welfare if they were disabled, and they got extra help in school. It was a money racket. Everyone went in and was told [fake cough], "When the nurse looks at you, you go [fake cough], 'I don't know, the dust got me.' " See, everyone had asthma from the minority community. That was number one.
Now, the illness du jour is autism. You know what autism is? I'll tell you what autism is. In 99 percent of the cases, it's a brat who hasn't been told to cut the act out. That's what autism is.
What do you mean they scream and they're silent? They don't have a father around to tell them, "Don't act like a moron. You'll get nowhere in life. Stop acting like a putz. Straighten up. Act like a man. Don't sit there crying and screaming, idiot."
Autism -- everybody has an illness. If I behaved like a fool, my father called me a fool. And he said to me, "Don't behave like a fool." The worst thing he said -- "Don't behave like a fool. Don't be anybody's dummy. Don't sound like an idiot. Don't act like a girl. Don't cry." That's what I was raised with. That's what you should raise your children with. Stop with the sensitivity training. You're turning your son into a girl, and you're turning your nation into a nation of losers and beaten men. That's why we have the politicians we have.”
So many inflammatory statements, so little time. Where do I begin? Well, let’s go paragraph by paragraph. First, there is the comparison of the increase in diagnosed autism to the supposed increase in asthma cases in minority schoolchildren, which he describes as a “racket” to secure extra welfare and scholastic help. The asthma claim is an amazing one in and of itself. When one reads this article from the American Women’s Medical Association, however, one sees that asthma is a result of being on the public dole, rather than some far-fetched impetus. According to the conclusion:
Children's asthma is associated with reduced parental employment among single parents and increased welfare receipt among single- and 2-parent families. These associations with children's asthma may have implications for policy makers interested in increasing employment and decreasing welfare use.
Moving on to the next paragraph, we find Savage’s claim that an amazing 99% of autism cases are more behavioral than medical. Notice the choice of number. It basically allows Savage an out from his accusations and rhetoric. If a parent of an autistic were to personally confront him on the 99% figure, he could simply say, “Well, I didn’t mean it about your kid. I just meant the other 297,000 children; they’re all a bunch of brats.” He tried to worm his way out of his comments, but we’ll get back to that in a moment.
I have to take the last 2 ½ paragraphs as a whole. As the father of a high-functioning autistic, I have a little bit of experience in trying to deal with my son’s outbursts and inability to function in public, and I can tell you that shouting at an autistic child does not work. Again, we are dealing with a medical condition and NOT a behavior problem.
It is difficult to describe the feeling of telling your four-year old that he shouldn’t hit someone who enters his personal space over and over again, only to get a report from daycare that he has hit and/or bitten another child. To Ian’s credit, he has improved in this area in recent months, but it came as a result of constant work on our part as well as on the school system and the teachers at his daycare.
As to the implication that sensitivity to your child’s feelings somehow leads to “a nation of losers and beaten men”, let me just say that I know from personal experience that severe verbal and physical punishments are far more of a hindrance than a help. If Savage feels that his own father’s abusiveness was instrumental in making him the man that he is, then that’s his prerogative; however, I do not think it is an appropriate measure for children in general, autistic or not.
As you might imagine, Savage’s remarks got a bit of play on the internet, and several autism advocacy groups immediately took exception to his diagnosis and recommendation for “curing” autism. To that end, Michael Savage did the only thing he believed he should do. He attacked the messenger. He claimed that his remarks were taken out of context, but he stood by his remarks, that he wasn’t talking about all or even any autistics. He deigned to appear on CNN to be interviewed about the controversy by (of all people) Glenn Beck. There was even a defense of Savage on Renew America by columnist Selwyn Duke, with a screed entitled "Judgementally impared should get off Michael Savage's back". Thus the bully, his nose bloodied for his actions, now runs through the streets crying his victimhood.
I will say this. I don’t hate Michael Savage. I try not to “hate” anyone; it’s just my nature. In looking at those on the opposite end of the ideological spectrum, I have made it a point to find at least one good thing about them (which I may explore in another column, someday). With Savage it is this. I have actually found myself enjoying listening to him on the increasingly rare moments when he reminisces on his childhood and youth. In those moments, I wish that he would ditch the “Savage Nation” shtick and reinvent himself as a storyteller. I also give him grudging credit for breaking the story of the Dubai port deal of 2006; it may be the only time that most liberals found themselves in agreement with Savage on any position.
That said, I must say that his remarks on the 16th filled me with such contempt that I wished I could have faced him down to dare him to say those words to my face. Additionally, I can’t pretend that I don’t feel some sense of schadenfreude at the news that Savage has lost AFLAC as a national sponsor of his show, or that he has been thrown off the air on a number of Mississippi radio stations.
I believe in free speech, and I don’t believe that Michael Savage should be completely thrown off the air. BUT, I also believe that his right to flail at autistic children, and the parents who are doing everything they can to get treatment for those children, should not be met with silence and complacency. I especially do not believe that he should be paid for the purpose of attacking children. Is there a possibility of overdiagnosis? Maybe, but I tend to believe that the increase in autism cases is a result of pediatricians being better trained and equipped to diagnose the symptoms and seek treatment for the affected. I hope and pray that his words don’t make it a harder climb for my family, or the family of any other child with autism.
Savage, like so many of his conservative media brethren, labors under the assumption that they can act with immunity to the rules of civility. It is the right and duty of the general public to let Savage and his ilk know when they have crossed the line. Read up on autism, find out what real experts have to say about the spectrum of disorders, and let your local Savage affiliate know what's being said on their airwaves during "his" hours on the air.
Autism Speaks
Autism United
Autism Society of America
National Autism Association
Saturday, January 26, 2008
On Wisconsin!
As some of you know, I started a new job this month, and it involves a little bit of traveling. I'll try to keep you updated on my journeys and where they take me.
This week, I went to Wisconsin for a research trip. It was one I was looking forward to, chiefly because I had never been to the land of Weezer, "Happy Days" and Mike Nelson. Yet, on MLK Day, there I was - flying on a direct voyage to Milwaukee.
My partner got to MKE and immediately got a rental car to complete our voyage to Madison. It was snowing when we started and kept going harder and harder as we made our way down I-94. As with any snowy situation, it seemed the harder it snowed, the worse the traffic became. Homestly, I think it was more risky to be on that interstate at night than it was for us to fly in.
We finally got into Madison around 9:30 that evening (10:30 Eastern) and went to our hotel. I believe this was the first time I had been in a hotel room without the wife or boy in about seven years, and it was definitely thei first time I had been in a hotel room alone in about 13. It was a bit lonely, but as compensation I did have cable and wifi. A small compense, perhaps, but it would have to do for the next few days.
During those days, my partner and I scanned a wide variety of images and took photos of artifacts for a book we're working on. It's about the history of the University of Wisconsin's football program. Interesting program, and I have to say that their sports information department really has a well-organized archives. Of course it wasn't until we left that I realized that the reason for that is they just moved into that building less than two years ago. I'm sure they took that time to get their historical house in order.
A few observations from the trip:
This week, I went to Wisconsin for a research trip. It was one I was looking forward to, chiefly because I had never been to the land of Weezer, "Happy Days" and Mike Nelson. Yet, on MLK Day, there I was - flying on a direct voyage to Milwaukee.
My partner got to MKE and immediately got a rental car to complete our voyage to Madison. It was snowing when we started and kept going harder and harder as we made our way down I-94. As with any snowy situation, it seemed the harder it snowed, the worse the traffic became. Homestly, I think it was more risky to be on that interstate at night than it was for us to fly in.
We finally got into Madison around 9:30 that evening (10:30 Eastern) and went to our hotel. I believe this was the first time I had been in a hotel room without the wife or boy in about seven years, and it was definitely thei first time I had been in a hotel room alone in about 13. It was a bit lonely, but as compensation I did have cable and wifi. A small compense, perhaps, but it would have to do for the next few days.
During those days, my partner and I scanned a wide variety of images and took photos of artifacts for a book we're working on. It's about the history of the University of Wisconsin's football program. Interesting program, and I have to say that their sports information department really has a well-organized archives. Of course it wasn't until we left that I realized that the reason for that is they just moved into that building less than two years ago. I'm sure they took that time to get their historical house in order.
A few observations from the trip:
1. If you get comped tickets for a basketball game (or other sporting event) in Wisconsin, be prepared to leave early for the arena. REAL early.
2. Bratwurst on the UW campus = full of win. Bratwurst at the airport = teh suxxor.
3. Walking on a frozen lake at 7:30 in the morning will remind you of what it's like to be alive - just watch out for ice fishing holes.
4. The Heisman Trophy is one heavy SOB.
Anyways, that's my story, as I sit here writing in my "Nothing tips like a cow" t-shirt. I almost came home with a cheesehead, but I resisted the urge. Pics to come. Soon.
2. Bratwurst on the UW campus = full of win. Bratwurst at the airport = teh suxxor.
3. Walking on a frozen lake at 7:30 in the morning will remind you of what it's like to be alive - just watch out for ice fishing holes.
4. The Heisman Trophy is one heavy SOB.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
Does Anyone Know Where The Love Of God Goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
In memory of the crew of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald
In memory of the crew of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald
Friday, November 9, 2007
iPod Shuffle!
Laugh if you must... cry if you want to:
The Way-Clay Aiken
The Severed Garden (Adagio)-The Doors
Midnight Star-Weird Al Yankovic
Black Beauty-Duke Ellington
Original Faubus Fables-Charles Mingus
New World-Björk
Gypsy Eyes-The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Operation Spirit-Līve
Operation: Mindcrime-Queensrÿche
Highway 61 Revisited-pj harvey
'Round Midnight-John Coltrane
Overblown-Mudhoney
My Last Words-Megadeth
Candy's Room-Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
Sure Know Something-KISS
Hmmm... I can explain the Clay Aiken. Wait, nevermind... let's just call it a spur of the moment thing. I certainly got my share of umlauts and diacriticals up there, eh? Especially with Op Spirit rolling onto Op: Mindcrime. I'm pleased that my jazz fetish is beginning to show up on the shuffle, as is a track from my favorite live (as opposed to Līve)album: BS&TESB: 1975-85.
The Way-Clay Aiken
The Severed Garden (Adagio)-The Doors
Midnight Star-Weird Al Yankovic
Black Beauty-Duke Ellington
Original Faubus Fables-Charles Mingus
New World-Björk
Gypsy Eyes-The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Operation Spirit-Līve
Operation: Mindcrime-Queensrÿche
Highway 61 Revisited-pj harvey
'Round Midnight-John Coltrane
Overblown-Mudhoney
My Last Words-Megadeth
Candy's Room-Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
Sure Know Something-KISS
Hmmm... I can explain the Clay Aiken. Wait, nevermind... let's just call it a spur of the moment thing. I certainly got my share of umlauts and diacriticals up there, eh? Especially with Op Spirit rolling onto Op: Mindcrime. I'm pleased that my jazz fetish is beginning to show up on the shuffle, as is a track from my favorite live (as opposed to Līve)album: BS&TESB: 1975-85.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Diwali
Today, Kathy, Ian, my mom and I went to Agnes Scott to attend a Diwali dinner sponsored by the campus South Asian society. It was okay, although I had to deal with Ian's diminishing temperament when the food was late in coming to the hall.
While we were sitting there, eating our meal and bopping along to the Bollywood videos they played during the meal, I was struck with a thought. When I was about Ian's age, I had none of the cultural exposure that he has had in his life. There were no South Asians around us, nor were there any Hispanics in our neighborhood that I was aware of. The neighborhoods were almost entirely white.
I didn't get much in the way of cultural enlightenment in those early days; it wasn't until I was in high school that I had much exposure to any "other" culture aside from African-Americans. After I moved to Florida, however, I truly got a sense of the diversity of the world's people. I learned about them, spent time with them, and learned to appreciate them. I grew up on the trailing edge of the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, and I'm grateful that I have learned to love my fellow man regardless of where they come from.
I hope and pray that Ian can continue that trend and see the world as something other than a racial battlefield. I think he's off to a good start, though. Have a beautiful Diwali, and love all around you.
While we were sitting there, eating our meal and bopping along to the Bollywood videos they played during the meal, I was struck with a thought. When I was about Ian's age, I had none of the cultural exposure that he has had in his life. There were no South Asians around us, nor were there any Hispanics in our neighborhood that I was aware of. The neighborhoods were almost entirely white.
I didn't get much in the way of cultural enlightenment in those early days; it wasn't until I was in high school that I had much exposure to any "other" culture aside from African-Americans. After I moved to Florida, however, I truly got a sense of the diversity of the world's people. I learned about them, spent time with them, and learned to appreciate them. I grew up on the trailing edge of the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, and I'm grateful that I have learned to love my fellow man regardless of where they come from.
I hope and pray that Ian can continue that trend and see the world as something other than a racial battlefield. I think he's off to a good start, though. Have a beautiful Diwali, and love all around you.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
A Story I Shouldn't Tell, But Must
This is a story that I have been meaning to tell for almost a week. WARNING! This may contain some unsettling imagery, but you're big enough to handle it, methinks.
Halloween, Ian and I had gone to Decatur to meet up with Kathy and celebrate the day with the students on campus. We had started home, and Kat decided to take the boy back home in her car. I gave her his necessities bag (his rapidly becoming former diaper bag) and said I'd meet them back at the house.
When I got home, I noticed that it was taking longer than usual for her to make it in from ASC. When she finally got here, I asked what had taken so long. This is what she told me.
Kat was making her way from Decatur to I-20 and availing herself of some of Ian's Halloween chocolate. For some reason, she had grabbed onto a chocolate bar that had partially melted in the sun, and it smeared all over her hands. Wanting to get things clean ASAP, she pulled over off of Candler Street, which runs through some pretty rough areas in East Atlanta.
She rummaged through Ian's bag for a wipe, only to find that we had run out. Desperate to clean up the chocolate, she reached for the next best thing - one of Ian's pull-ups. She grabbed the chocolate, wiped her hands, then got out of the van to toss it in the garbage.
For whatever reason, Kat decided to not let the rest of the chocolate go to waste, so she began to eat the remains of the chocolate bar out of the pull-up. Around that time, she looked up to see a woman staring open-mouthed at her... eating something brown... out of a diaper-like object.
Kat then said she very sheepishly placed the pull-up in the trash, calmly got back in the van and walked away. She felt embarrassed about it, but said that it might have saved her life if she ever breaks down in that part of the town. "Anyone crazy enough to eat something out of a diaper ain't worth messin' with," she imagined the conversation the woman might have had with anyone who might have been listening.
Indeed, my sweet, indeed.
Halloween, Ian and I had gone to Decatur to meet up with Kathy and celebrate the day with the students on campus. We had started home, and Kat decided to take the boy back home in her car. I gave her his necessities bag (his rapidly becoming former diaper bag) and said I'd meet them back at the house.
When I got home, I noticed that it was taking longer than usual for her to make it in from ASC. When she finally got here, I asked what had taken so long. This is what she told me.
Kat was making her way from Decatur to I-20 and availing herself of some of Ian's Halloween chocolate. For some reason, she had grabbed onto a chocolate bar that had partially melted in the sun, and it smeared all over her hands. Wanting to get things clean ASAP, she pulled over off of Candler Street, which runs through some pretty rough areas in East Atlanta.
She rummaged through Ian's bag for a wipe, only to find that we had run out. Desperate to clean up the chocolate, she reached for the next best thing - one of Ian's pull-ups. She grabbed the chocolate, wiped her hands, then got out of the van to toss it in the garbage.
For whatever reason, Kat decided to not let the rest of the chocolate go to waste, so she began to eat the remains of the chocolate bar out of the pull-up. Around that time, she looked up to see a woman staring open-mouthed at her... eating something brown... out of a diaper-like object.
Kat then said she very sheepishly placed the pull-up in the trash, calmly got back in the van and walked away. She felt embarrassed about it, but said that it might have saved her life if she ever breaks down in that part of the town. "Anyone crazy enough to eat something out of a diaper ain't worth messin' with," she imagined the conversation the woman might have had with anyone who might have been listening.
Indeed, my sweet, indeed.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Mondays... I could never get the hang of Mondays
Actually, it wasn't too bad today, considering. The worst thing that happened was that the daycare that we thought had an opening available didn't, although they did take our paperwork should an opening present itself.
Ian got to play in his sandbox today for the first time, and even as I grumbled over having to sweep up the outflow after him, I felt good that he was able to go and play outside on the deck. I got a couple of interesting job-related calls as well; keep your fingers crossed.
Ian got to play in his sandbox today for the first time, and even as I grumbled over having to sweep up the outflow after him, I felt good that he was able to go and play outside on the deck. I got a couple of interesting job-related calls as well; keep your fingers crossed.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
In The Midst of Life, We Are In Death
Today was All Saints' Sunday at our church - a time to reflect and remember the friends and loved ones we have lost over the past year. As part of the service, our choir performed John Rutter's Requiem. If you've never heard it, find a copy and listen. It's a stunning piece of work.
As we sang though the oratorio this morning, I couldn't help but think of the people I've known, and the people that my own friends have known, who have passed on in the past 12 months. I thought of them, smiled a little, came near to tears at more than one point, and said prayers for their souls.
Bob Hankins
David McLaughlin
Helen Apperson
Suzanne Messick
I remember.
As we sang though the oratorio this morning, I couldn't help but think of the people I've known, and the people that my own friends have known, who have passed on in the past 12 months. I thought of them, smiled a little, came near to tears at more than one point, and said prayers for their souls.
Bob Hankins
David McLaughlin
Helen Apperson
Suzanne Messick
I remember.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Filling Up My Closet
This morning I was doing my laundry and putting my clothes in my new closet when I took a look at what was in there.
Shirts. Specifically, dress shirts. Shirts that I could be wearing to a job, or at least a job interview. Shirts that would look pretty darn spiffy in the fluorescent glow of your typical high-rise cubicle. Shirts begging for a stain from some sloppily-eaten Chinese food. White shirts. Green shirts. Blue shirts. Yellow shirts. Even a pink shirt.
Alas, it seems that my shirt collection is destined to be worn only for church, reunion and family portrait occasions. It has been over a month since we moved here, and I've only had one bite on my resume. It's as if I'm invisible here. I need to find a job soon or else we may very well lose our house. Having to foreclose on your house two months after you move in? That would not be a very good thing, especially at Christmas.
Hopefully, something good will happen soon, and I can start taking my dress shirts out of the closet on a daily basis.
Shirts. Specifically, dress shirts. Shirts that I could be wearing to a job, or at least a job interview. Shirts that would look pretty darn spiffy in the fluorescent glow of your typical high-rise cubicle. Shirts begging for a stain from some sloppily-eaten Chinese food. White shirts. Green shirts. Blue shirts. Yellow shirts. Even a pink shirt.
Alas, it seems that my shirt collection is destined to be worn only for church, reunion and family portrait occasions. It has been over a month since we moved here, and I've only had one bite on my resume. It's as if I'm invisible here. I need to find a job soon or else we may very well lose our house. Having to foreclose on your house two months after you move in? That would not be a very good thing, especially at Christmas.
Hopefully, something good will happen soon, and I can start taking my dress shirts out of the closet on a daily basis.
Friday, November 2, 2007
iPod Shuffle-NaBloPoMo edition
I realize this may seem like fudging on the NaBloPoMo event, but I feel I need to do this before I go on to more important issues.
1) Revelation (Mother Earth)-Ozzy Osbourne
2) I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man-Prince
3) She Loves You-The Beatles
4) Every Night-Paul McCartney
5) Parker's Mood-Charlie Parker
6) Lakini's Juice-Līve
7) The Odd Ball-Henry Rollins
8) Stone Free-The Jimi Hendrix Experience
9) I Can't Watch This-Weird Al Yankovic
10) Gingerbread Boy-Miles Davis
11) Never Enough (Big Mix)-The Cure
12) Goodbye Pork Pie Hat-Charles Mingus
13) Take The Long Way Home-Supertramp
14) Snake-pj harvey
15) Got The Time-Anthrax
Hmmm... I gotta ruminate on that shuffle. More later.
1) Revelation (Mother Earth)-Ozzy Osbourne
2) I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man-Prince
3) She Loves You-The Beatles
4) Every Night-Paul McCartney
5) Parker's Mood-Charlie Parker
6) Lakini's Juice-Līve
7) The Odd Ball-Henry Rollins
8) Stone Free-The Jimi Hendrix Experience
9) I Can't Watch This-Weird Al Yankovic
10) Gingerbread Boy-Miles Davis
11) Never Enough (Big Mix)-The Cure
12) Goodbye Pork Pie Hat-Charles Mingus
13) Take The Long Way Home-Supertramp
14) Snake-pj harvey
15) Got The Time-Anthrax
Hmmm... I gotta ruminate on that shuffle. More later.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
NaBloPoMo-Yr Tw
As I see, it is once again National Blog Posting Month. And again, I shall endeavor to entertain the mass(es) by posting once a day for November. The trick this time is that I shall be posting different content to both this blog and to my MySpace blog thingie.
I can't promise it'll be exciting, or even worth a minute of reading, but I promise there'll be something for at least thirty days.
Cheers!
I can't promise it'll be exciting, or even worth a minute of reading, but I promise there'll be something for at least thirty days.
Cheers!
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