dual personalities

Category: Music

Thoughts and (more) prayers

by chuckofish

Do you need a little mid-week pick-me-up? Mandisa will lift your spirits! Don’t be embarrassed–sing along!

Here’s a thought for today from Frederick Buechner:

“God speaks to us, I would say, much more often than we realize or than we choose to realize. Before the sun sets every evening, he speaks to each of us in an intensely personal and unmistakable way. His message is not written out in starlight, which in the long run would make no difference; rather it is written out for each of us in the humdrum, helter-skelter events of each day; it is a message that in the long run might just make all the difference. Who knows what he will say to me today or to you today or into the midst of what kind of unlikely moment he will choose to say it. Not knowing is what makes today a holy mystery as every day is a holy mystery. But I believe that there are some things that by and large God is always saying to each of us. Each of us, for instance, carries around inside himself, I believe, a certain emptiness—a sense that something is missing, a restlessness, the deep feeling that somehow all is not right inside his skin. Psychologists sometimes call it anxiety, theologians sometimes call it estrangement, but whatever you call it, I doubt that there are many who do not recognize the experience itself, especially no one of our age, which has been variously termed the age of anxiety, the lost generation, the beat generation, the lonely crowd. Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness, and I believe that this in itself is a word from God, that this is the sound that God’s voice makes in a world that has explained him away. In such a world, I suspect that maybe God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him. But he also speaks to us about ourselves, about what he wants us to do and what he wants us to become; and this is the area where I believe that we know so much more about him than we admit even to ourselves, where people hear God speak even if they do not believe in him. A face comes toward us down the street. Do we raise our eyes or do we keep them lowered, passing by in silence? Somebody says something about somebody else, and what he says happens to be not only cruel but also funny, and everybody laughs. Do we laugh too, or do we speak the truth? When a friend has hurt us, do we take pleasure in hating him, because hate has its pleasures as well as love, or do we try to build back some flimsy little bridge? Sometimes when we are alone, thoughts come swarming into our heads like bees—some of them destructive, ugly, self-defeating thoughts, some of them creative and glad. Which thoughts do we choose to think then, as much as we have the choice? Will we be brave today or a coward today? Not in some big way probably but in some little foolish way, yet brave still. Will we be honest today or a liar? Just some little pint-sized honesty, but honest still. Will we be a friend or cold as ice today? All the absurd little meetings, decisions, inner skirmishes that go to make up our days. It all adds up to very little, and yet it all adds up to very much. Our days are full of nonsense, and yet not, because it is precisely into the nonsense of our days that God speaks to us words of great significance—not words that are written in the stars but words that are written into the raw stuff and nonsense of our days, which are not nonsense just because God speaks into the midst of them. And the words that he says, to each of us differently, are be brave…be merciful…feed my lambs…press on toward the goal.”

And here’s a prayer for today:

“Much as we wish, not one of us can bring back yesterday or shape tomorrow. Only today is ours, and it will not be ours for long, and once it is gone it will never in all time be ours again. Thou only knowest what it holds in store for us, yet even we know something of what it will hold. The chance to speak the truth, to show mercy, to ease another’s burden. The chance to resist evil, to remember all the good times and good people of our past, to be brave, to be strong, to be glad.”

–Frederick Buechner, The Hungering Dark

And did you know that November is Prematurity Awareness Month? The wee babes are literally poster kids for it!

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“Tonight we sail, on a radio song”*

by chuckofish

Well, the news media, after waffling back and forth, finally confirmed that Tom Petty died Monday night.

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He was my brother’s age and he always reminded me of my brother’s friend Mike, who was such a nice boy. I have fond memories of going to a Cardinals baseball game with him. He was funny and didn’t ignore me, the no-doubt annoying nine-year old sister.

Mike was the neglected third son of a distracted, divorced single mother. In high school he was packed off to a boarding school and after that he was a hippie. I met him once years later when he was married with kids, I think, and a carpenter or something like that–something very different anyway than his St. Louis Country Club background would have suggested. He was as nice as ever though and happy to talk to me.

Anyway, he and Tom Petty had the same vibe, so, right or wrong, I assume Tom Petty was a good guy too. I always liked him and will miss him. As Bob Dylan said, “It’s shocking, crushing news. I thought the world of Tom. He was a great performer, full of the light, a friend, and I’ll never forget him.”

Here are “14 Essential Tom Petty songs” chosen by the NYT. Not surprisingly the list does not include my favorite:

Into paradise may the angels lead thee; and at thy coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.

*You Wreck Me by Michael W. Campbell / Tom Petty

Set me free

by chuckofish

Yesterday I went to the dentist first thing to have a crown replaced which felt like two hours of torture. Then I went to work and got a flu shot. Then I had two meetings in the afternoon and a small event at church after work. Some days, right?

Boy, am I ready for the weekend!

Daughter #1 is coming home later today to celebrate her birthday (belatedly).

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The wee babes will help us party like it’s 1999.

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You know, maybe I’ll stay up ’til 10 o’clock and have a second glass of wine.

Meanwhile, the boy,

IMG_1428.jpgwho is a cancer survivor, is riding in Pedal for the Cause, which raises money to provide funding for cancer research at Siteman Cancer Center and Siteman Kids at St. Louis Children’s Hospital through their annual cycling challenge.

Yes, it will be a busy weekend and a hot one.

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But it’s all good. Have a great day and a fun weekend!

Freed and forgiven

by chuckofish

Time for a little Wednesday gospel inspiration.

Turn it up and sing loud.

“I don’t believe that heaven waits for only those who congregate”*

by chuckofish

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“Plain-spoken” Don Williams has died. Here’s his semi-condescending NYT obit.

More to the point,  Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum CEO Kyle Young told Rolling Stone magazine that “His music will forever be a balm in troublesome times. Everyone who makes country music with grace, intelligence, and ageless intent will do so while standing on the shoulders of this gentle giant.”

Balm is the right word.

Here’s my favorite Don Williams song:

Those Williams boys, they still mean a lot to me–Hank and Tennessee…

Well, besides being a bonafide Country Music legend in the U.S., he was consistently an international ambassador of country music, earning a devoted following in Europe, especially in the U.K. and Ireland, as well as Australia. He was also huge in Africa. He was the real deal.

In addition to his recording career, Williams appeared in two Burt Reynolds films, in the 1970s including W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings (1975).

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It is available on Youtube, so I think I will watch it. We’ll  miss you, Don.

Into paradise may the angels lead thee, Don. At your coming may the martyrs receive thee, and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.

*”I Believe in You” by Roger Cook and Sam Hogin

This and that and border ruffians

by chuckofish

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Apparently ever since the little guy wore his Fredbird onesie the other day the Cardinals have been on a hitting streak.

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Coincidence? “If we could figure out what that key is, we’d never put the key away,” manager Mike Matheny said. “We’re fortunate to be riding it as long as we are, and there’s no reason to stop now.” (PD, 8/9/17)

Well, keep that onesie handy, Little Boy! The Cards are in second place!

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Onesie or RallyCat? You decide.

In memory of Glen Campbell, we thought we’d treat you to this montage of his variety show from the late sixties/early seventies. Remember The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour? Steve Martin was one of the writers and the Smothers Brothers were frequent guests. It was pretty darn hip. I was a big fan.

I was in the eighth grade and I had a major crush (okay, minor crush) on Glen’s banjo player Larry McNeely, who was very shy and so cute.

He never spoke, but, boy, could he play!

Daughter #1 is now back in flyover country. She bid farewell to NYC yesterday and had drinks at Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle Hotel on Tuesday night.

Screen Shot 2017-08-09 at 2.09.41 PM.pngPerfect. You gotta love those Madeline murals, right?

Screen Shot 2017-08-09 at 2.12.41 PM.pngBy the way, on this day in 1821 President James Monroe issued a proclamation which concluded with the words: “The admission of the said State of Missouri into this Union is declared to be complete.” Behind that declaration lay years of struggle and a series of complicated maneuvers designed to maintain the delicate balance of power between the free states and those which permitted slavery.

In case you were wondering, the state is named for the Missouri River, which was named after the indigenous Missouri Indians. They were called the ouemessourita (wimihsoorita), meaning “those who have dugout canoes”.

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Thomas Hart Benton, of course

So have a happy and productive Thursday! The weekend is almost here!

It’s too darn hot

by chuckofish

We are on the verge of another heat wave here in flyover country. Our local meteorologists are saying that this week we will have days on end of 100+ temperatures. C’est la vie.

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We can survive–as long as the AC holds out. I mean it’s not like in the “old days” of my youth when we had no air-conditioning and we sweltered. Somehow we survived with fans. We didn’t have an ice-maker either–just those old fill-them-up-with water ice cube trays. Nowadays we are quite wanton in our ice cube consumption.

bondjulep.jpgI sound like an old lady I know. However, I am not old enough to remember the scorching summer of 1936 when for 13 consecutive days in July the average high was 103.2 degrees. “Pavements buckled and swimmers were told to stay out of the Meramec River because the low water level had caused severe pollution. Fans blowing over ice provided some relief for City Hospital patients, but all hospital emergency rooms were so crowded that it was impossible to handle the case load…Many St. Louisans took to the outdoors for whatever relief they could find, sleeping in city parks and along highways on the outskirts…Heavy rains in August ended the ordeal.”*

Zut alors! Anyway, here’s a little Ella Fitzgerald to help you keep your “cool”…

…and while you’re at it, have a cold one!

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And as always, count your blessings!

*St. Louis Day by Day by Frances Hurd Stadler

“Trouble with you is The trouble with me”*

by chuckofish

I spent the weekend cleaning my house so it will be spic and span for all the people who will be arriving this week for the nuptials on Saturday.

The OM and I did make it down to Forest Park on Saturday morning…

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to go to the new exhibit at the Art Museum before it opens to the general public.

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It was pretty special, and I enjoyed our cultural outing.

1-Reigning-Men-1024x682.jpgWe stopped at First Watch on the way home and I enjoyed my avocado toast. Then we headed home and back to gussying up the homestead.

The weather, of course, was absolutely perfect this weekend. God knows (literally) what next weekend will be like. C’est la vie.

I went to church because I was filling in for a friend as the intercessor. They have switched over to Enriching Our Worship, the modern “supplement” to the BCP, for the summer. “The liturgy is intended to expand the language, images and metaphors used in worship in a more contemporary and gender inclusive way.” Just shoot me. I guess I will be taking the rest of the summer off. I’m sure no one will miss me or my rolling eyes.

We watched Long Strange Trip (2017), the Amazon documentary about the Grateful Dead.

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I like the Grateful Dead as much as the next person my age, and Jerry Garcia was a fellow Episcopalian after all, but I was frankly shocked to find out the extent of his drug addiction and the longterm use of psychedelic drugs by the band. As usual, I am not cool enough to understand the Dead. I wasn’t in high school and nothing has changed.

Anyway, I can’t really recommend the documentary. The OM watched the whole four hours (!) but I baled and went back to Absaroka County and reading about Walt Longmire, who, as we know, is more my cup of tea.

And this little guy can now turn over from his back to his tummy. Brilliant.

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Enjoy your Monday. Nate and Susie arrive today!

*Casey Jones, Robert C. Hunter, Jerome J. Garcia

Lift up your voice and say Amen

by chuckofish

Third Day inspiration for Tuesday. Turn up the volume and say Amen.

Balm in Gilead

by chuckofish

Today is the anniversary of the deaths of two country music greats: Tammy Wynette (1942-1998) and Merle Haggard (1937-2016). They died on the same day but 18 years apart. Weird.

Here they are singing “Today I Started Lovin’ You Again”–a classic song of regret and unrequited love written by Merle Haggard and Bonnie Owens in 1968.

In case you were wondering–(as I did)–“He Stopped Lovin’ Her Today,” which has been named in several surveys as the greatest country song of all time, was released twelve years after “Today I Started Lovin’ You Again.”  So it was Merle who started that ball rolling.

And if you weren’t wondering, you can still toast them tonight.

In other news, I went to see the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church at Graham Chapel on the campus of my flyover university the other evening.

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He was introduced by our Provost (an Episcopalian!) and by our former senator/Episcopal priest who endowed the Center for Religion and Politics which sponsored the talk. Bishop Curry gave a rousing sermon (he was invited to speak on “Healing a House Divided”) and, through the old-timey and very effective method of repetition, had everyone in the packed chapel saying with him, If you cannot sing like angels, If you can’t preach like Paul, You can tell the love of Jesus, And say He died for all.

When he started singing at the end, everyone joined right in with him: There is a balm in Gilead, To make the wounded whole; There is a balm in Gilead, To heal the sin-sick soul.

…Not something I have ever experienced at this flyover university.

He made his point–that only through the love of JESUS will the divisiveness in this country be healed. Amen, brother. Maybe there is hope for the Episcopal Church.