Eleven years ago at about this time of year I was in the MTC. Yeah, I wouldn't exactly recommend going into the MTC for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Kwaanza and Hanukkah, but being there for that time of year definitely had its up sides. We had mad firesides with all sorts of General Authorities. It was actually pretty cool.
At one of those firesides I heard a song that has stuck with me ever since, even though I have not heard it again. The tune was unforgetable, as were some of the passages of text. The problem was, I could never remember enough of the text to try looking the song up.
And then it hit me today while walking down the hall at work. I was humming the tune, and inserting the words as I knew them, when the tumblers of memory clicked in and I could remember a whole phrase: ". . . some children see him almond eyed."
I ran to my computer, and with the help of my faithful friend Google, found the text to this wonderful and stirring, but neglected Christmas song. I am overjoyed to have found it again, and wanted to share it with anyone who cares to read this blog.
Some Children See Him
Some children see Him lily white,
the baby Jesus born this night.
Some children see Him lily white,
with tresses soft and fair.
Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
The Lord of heav'n to earth come down.
Some children see Him bronzed and brown,
with dark and heavy hair.
Some children see Him almond-eyed,
this Savior whom we kneel beside.
Some children see Him almond-eyed,
with skin of yellow hue.
Some children see Him dark as they,
sweet Mary's Son to whom we pray.
Some children see him dark as they,
and, ah! they love Him, too!
The children in each different place
will see the baby Jesus' face
like theirs, but bright with heavenly grace,
and filled with holy light.
O lay aside each earthly thing
and with thy heart as offering,
come worship now the infant King.
'Tis love that's born tonight!
After I found it I did some snooping around, and discovered that there are a lot of different versions of this song. I recommend going to Itunes and finding a copy to listen to yourself. It is, after all, one of the most Christian Christmas songs I have ever heard. I hope it sticks in your mind and heart, too.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Thank You, Jesus
There wasn't room for you in the inn. When you were a child your life was threatened. You lived a life of poverty in an enslaved society. You never knew fame without also knowing derision and scorn. You worked miracles and were accused of being possessed. You taught peace and were rewarded with violence. You healed the sick, the lame, the blind, yet you were tortured to death. You felt the burdens and anguish of the entirety of humanity, and still gave us a way to escape our suffering through yours. You died on the cross, and yet you live.
You saved us all. You are the greatest gift we have ever been given. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for showing us a more perfect way to live. Thank you for opening the gates of heaven to let us in. Thank you for carrying our burdens and lifting our hearts.
We didn't deserve you. We never will. Thank you for loving us anyway. Thank you for being our Lord, our Redeemer, and our Friend. Thank you or giving us Christmas, but more importantly, thank you for giving us Easter.
You saved us all. You are the greatest gift we have ever been given. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for showing us a more perfect way to live. Thank you for opening the gates of heaven to let us in. Thank you for carrying our burdens and lifting our hearts.
We didn't deserve you. We never will. Thank you for loving us anyway. Thank you for being our Lord, our Redeemer, and our Friend. Thank you or giving us Christmas, but more importantly, thank you for giving us Easter.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
In the News
So I am a word nerd. I like words, languages, linguistics, novels, limericks, etymology, you name it. An outshoot of this nerdery is that I am rarely confronted with a word I don't know the meaning of, or one that I cannot at least guess the meaning of from its relatives and components.
Imagine my annoyance then, when the news of this Madoff Ponzi Scheme broke. If you haven't heard about it, some guy named Madoff (pronounced Made-off, which is an irony I can't stop reveling in) stole billions (yes, with a b - which makes my teeth hurt) of investor dollars over the past decade or so. I am not so annoyed with the story itself as I am with the fact that I had no idea what a Ponzi scheme is.
That fact by itself is not so annoying. If someone came up to me and started talking in Polish, I would have virtually no idea what any of their words meant. This is due to the simple fact that I don't speak Polish. It would be completely normal for me to ask for an interpretation. What annoys me about the whole Ponzi thing is that, as the reporters were talking about the details of the story, not one of them deigned to explain what a Ponzi scheme is. They just chattered on as if what they were talking about were common knowledge, like they were discussing bread or socks.
I don't like to not know things that are common knowledge, since not knowing common knowledge seems to indicate being substandard in some way. I can't stand being substandard, especially with words. So I looked up the meaning of the term from the source of all truth: wikipedia. Here it is, in case you are interested:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ponzi_schemes
Now that I know, I am once again at peace with the world. But not knowing made my drive home from Fort Collins decidedly. . . annoying.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Rampant Snobbery
OK, so I drive a lot for my job. Mostly to Wyoming and Fort Collins. This gives me a lot of time to do two things: think and listen to NPR. Most of the time, those two pursuits are complimentary. Sometimes, however, my thinking gets all bothered by NPR. Those times produce rants like this one:
I was listening today to a report about milk, of all things. And no, it was not related in any way to the new movie about the openly gay politician played by Sean Penn. It was about actual milk, as in from cows and other mammals. It seems some elderly woman with a very shaky 'On Golden Pond'-esque voice has written a book about the history of milk through the ages, and she had been invited as a guest on All Things Considered.
I have no problem with her writing a book about the history of milk. It is not a book I am going to read, but I am sure there is some bibliophile out there somewhere who is just dying to find out what the Assyrians or Huns did with their dairy products. I mean, this lady is more than entitled to write a book about the history of Velcro or yodeling for all I care.
What bothered me was this: she is a milk snob. She was talking, without even the slightest hint of sarcasm, about the 'zest' and 'depth' of milk, and about qualitative differences between the milk of cows raised on too much corn, vs. pure grass and hay. She claimed that grass and hay fed cows produce milk that is 'thicker and more full-bodied.' She also went so far as to dispute the value of the 'organic' label, and stated that she will only drink milk that has been produced by free-ranging, grass and hay fed cows, whose grass and hay was free of pesticides, herbicides, and chemical fertilizers. It was snobbery writ large, and over milk of all things.
Now I like milk as much as the next guy. I love the stuff. I even admit to a modicum of milk snobbery myself. I will not drink skim milk, and the closer to whole the better I like it. There is also this ultra-high-heated sterilized milk that is like hitting your tongue with the nasty stick. I don't drink that either. But that is as far as I can go. I feel silly about not drinking skim milk. I don't understand how this lady can be so picky and so hyper selective without having at least some sense of her own looniness and oddity. She is an odd duck, but is unaware of it. Her intense interest in milk is laughable, yet she is not laughing. She doesn't get it.
I think this is true of all snobs, and I think that is why snobs tend to seek each other out. Snobbery is an abnormality. It is weird. Wine snobs, Jazz snobs, ballet snobs, BBQ snobs, and even milk snobs are just plain goofy. It is odd to be so selective and judgmental about something mundane and trivial. So, rather than hang out with the normal crowd and feel weird, the snobs hang out with other snobs, so they can feel normal and can have someone else to talk with about the 'smokiness' and 'sultriness' of a jazz saxophonist, or about the 'zest' and 'depth of creaminess' of milk.
Snobbery is an artifact of societal luxury. If you are starving, you will eat just about anything, including frogs and snails. Hence the vast majority of French cuisine that traces its origins to the French peasantry. None of those old Gauls cared at all about the 'pep' or 'earthiness' of their meals. They were starving, and snails were easy to catch. Only later on did people start to try to become appreciative and selective about these necessities. The same is true for milk, wine, cheese, bread, cars, sub-atomic particles, opera singers, nebulae, poems, philosophy, and just about anything else you can snob about.
There is a place for everything, and just about anything that exists has a function and a purpose. When we begin to over analyse something beyond the scope of its purpose we have entered, not into the realm of refinement and culture, but into the realm of silliness and snobbery. Lets stop treating snobbery as a virtue, and start admitting that an abnormal interest in something like milk is, at very least, abnormal. Not bad or good, just odd, like Donald Trumps hair, or Australian animals.
I was listening today to a report about milk, of all things. And no, it was not related in any way to the new movie about the openly gay politician played by Sean Penn. It was about actual milk, as in from cows and other mammals. It seems some elderly woman with a very shaky 'On Golden Pond'-esque voice has written a book about the history of milk through the ages, and she had been invited as a guest on All Things Considered.
I have no problem with her writing a book about the history of milk. It is not a book I am going to read, but I am sure there is some bibliophile out there somewhere who is just dying to find out what the Assyrians or Huns did with their dairy products. I mean, this lady is more than entitled to write a book about the history of Velcro or yodeling for all I care.
What bothered me was this: she is a milk snob. She was talking, without even the slightest hint of sarcasm, about the 'zest' and 'depth' of milk, and about qualitative differences between the milk of cows raised on too much corn, vs. pure grass and hay. She claimed that grass and hay fed cows produce milk that is 'thicker and more full-bodied.' She also went so far as to dispute the value of the 'organic' label, and stated that she will only drink milk that has been produced by free-ranging, grass and hay fed cows, whose grass and hay was free of pesticides, herbicides, and chemical fertilizers. It was snobbery writ large, and over milk of all things.
Now I like milk as much as the next guy. I love the stuff. I even admit to a modicum of milk snobbery myself. I will not drink skim milk, and the closer to whole the better I like it. There is also this ultra-high-heated sterilized milk that is like hitting your tongue with the nasty stick. I don't drink that either. But that is as far as I can go. I feel silly about not drinking skim milk. I don't understand how this lady can be so picky and so hyper selective without having at least some sense of her own looniness and oddity. She is an odd duck, but is unaware of it. Her intense interest in milk is laughable, yet she is not laughing. She doesn't get it.
I think this is true of all snobs, and I think that is why snobs tend to seek each other out. Snobbery is an abnormality. It is weird. Wine snobs, Jazz snobs, ballet snobs, BBQ snobs, and even milk snobs are just plain goofy. It is odd to be so selective and judgmental about something mundane and trivial. So, rather than hang out with the normal crowd and feel weird, the snobs hang out with other snobs, so they can feel normal and can have someone else to talk with about the 'smokiness' and 'sultriness' of a jazz saxophonist, or about the 'zest' and 'depth of creaminess' of milk.
Snobbery is an artifact of societal luxury. If you are starving, you will eat just about anything, including frogs and snails. Hence the vast majority of French cuisine that traces its origins to the French peasantry. None of those old Gauls cared at all about the 'pep' or 'earthiness' of their meals. They were starving, and snails were easy to catch. Only later on did people start to try to become appreciative and selective about these necessities. The same is true for milk, wine, cheese, bread, cars, sub-atomic particles, opera singers, nebulae, poems, philosophy, and just about anything else you can snob about.
There is a place for everything, and just about anything that exists has a function and a purpose. When we begin to over analyse something beyond the scope of its purpose we have entered, not into the realm of refinement and culture, but into the realm of silliness and snobbery. Lets stop treating snobbery as a virtue, and start admitting that an abnormal interest in something like milk is, at very least, abnormal. Not bad or good, just odd, like Donald Trumps hair, or Australian animals.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Nero's Playing the Fiddle
I tried and tried to keep this rant to myself, but if I don't get it out before I go home, my poor dear wife is going to have to listen to me go on about it for hours.
The burr under my saddle is the whole auto industry bail-out debacle. I was listening to the news yesterday as they reported that the deal failed because the wizards at the United Auto Workers labor union refused to take immediate pay cuts down to the levels of their counterparts at plants from Toyota and Honda.
Are they serious? Let me get this straight: your company is within weeks of complete financial ruin, and has come to the United States Government (aka the American Tax Payers) to beg for a handout so it can survive another month or two. You come with only one convincing argument as to why you should be allowed to live: your employees would lose their jobs if you don't get help, and that loss of jobs would be bad for the economy at large. You come from an organization that has been mismanaged, lacks direction and vision, and builds pathetically crappy cars (except the Corvette, or course). You come essentially to beg for your survival.
What, in that scenario, could possibly allow you to think that YOU get to insist on any terms whatsoever? Beggers cannot, after all, be choosers.
And yet that is exactly what they are trying to do. The bosses at the UAW refused to accept any kind of lowering of pay or benefits for their workers until 2011. In other words, until 3 years after GM has closed its doors or declared bankruptcy! How does this make sense to anyone?
It seems to me that the UAW should have been grateful for any kind of help, as long as their workers could keep their jobs. Instead, the stubbornness and thick-headedness of the union bosses has essentially ensured that the jobs and futures of all their workers are now virtually guaranteed to be at risk.
Sure, GM has other options beside the bail-out. THere is always bankruptcy. But why on earth would the UAW prefer for their employer to go bankrupt? I am no lawyer, but I know enough about bankruptcy to know that a judge has the power to redefine contracts and obligations. That means a judge could, without even letting the UAW folks take a seat at the table, decide that GM only owes its workers 50% of the benefits they were enjoying, and drastically reduced wages for a dramatically reduced work force. A judge could do that.
I mean, I may be wrong here, but how is that preferable to taking a pay cut but keeping your job? This kind of lack of ability to compromise is precisely what killed the American auto industry in the first place. The unions do not care for the workers. They are a political party, and adhere to their party line, even when it does not serve the interests of their constituents. The UAW may have just killed GM.
If that is the case, then mayber GM needs to die, so that the membership of the UAW can finally wake up and see that their Union made them all unemployed and destitute, rather than improving their conditions, as unions are intended to do. Maybe if GM dies, the UAW will be killed allong side of it. Based on the last few actions of the UAW, it seems like that would be good riddance indeed.
The burr under my saddle is the whole auto industry bail-out debacle. I was listening to the news yesterday as they reported that the deal failed because the wizards at the United Auto Workers labor union refused to take immediate pay cuts down to the levels of their counterparts at plants from Toyota and Honda.
Are they serious? Let me get this straight: your company is within weeks of complete financial ruin, and has come to the United States Government (aka the American Tax Payers) to beg for a handout so it can survive another month or two. You come with only one convincing argument as to why you should be allowed to live: your employees would lose their jobs if you don't get help, and that loss of jobs would be bad for the economy at large. You come from an organization that has been mismanaged, lacks direction and vision, and builds pathetically crappy cars (except the Corvette, or course). You come essentially to beg for your survival.
What, in that scenario, could possibly allow you to think that YOU get to insist on any terms whatsoever? Beggers cannot, after all, be choosers.
And yet that is exactly what they are trying to do. The bosses at the UAW refused to accept any kind of lowering of pay or benefits for their workers until 2011. In other words, until 3 years after GM has closed its doors or declared bankruptcy! How does this make sense to anyone?
It seems to me that the UAW should have been grateful for any kind of help, as long as their workers could keep their jobs. Instead, the stubbornness and thick-headedness of the union bosses has essentially ensured that the jobs and futures of all their workers are now virtually guaranteed to be at risk.
Sure, GM has other options beside the bail-out. THere is always bankruptcy. But why on earth would the UAW prefer for their employer to go bankrupt? I am no lawyer, but I know enough about bankruptcy to know that a judge has the power to redefine contracts and obligations. That means a judge could, without even letting the UAW folks take a seat at the table, decide that GM only owes its workers 50% of the benefits they were enjoying, and drastically reduced wages for a dramatically reduced work force. A judge could do that.
I mean, I may be wrong here, but how is that preferable to taking a pay cut but keeping your job? This kind of lack of ability to compromise is precisely what killed the American auto industry in the first place. The unions do not care for the workers. They are a political party, and adhere to their party line, even when it does not serve the interests of their constituents. The UAW may have just killed GM.
If that is the case, then mayber GM needs to die, so that the membership of the UAW can finally wake up and see that their Union made them all unemployed and destitute, rather than improving their conditions, as unions are intended to do. Maybe if GM dies, the UAW will be killed allong side of it. Based on the last few actions of the UAW, it seems like that would be good riddance indeed.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Something Clever
I swear, I have ideas for writing on my blog ALL THE TIME, but then when I have time to write, I can't think of anything. It is like situational writer's block.
I figured it has been a while since I posted last, so I should show at least some sign of life, lest the blogosphere Search and Rescue be sent out after me.
OK, so here is what I am gonna write about - or rant about. My family.
As a general rule, my family is fantastic. I love all of my siblings, ex, half, step, inlaw and otherwise. Well, maybe not so much loving the ex-step-siblings, but I digress. Sometimes my older brother and I don't see eye to eye, but other than that, it is pretty much smooth familial sailing.
It was great to celebrate Thanksgiving with all of them (minus my big brother, who was in Chicago). We got to see our brand new nephew Koven (or Garbonzo, as he will be known to the world) and we got to spend some quality time with the folks. We would have liked more time with Jon and Chandelle and the nieces, but at least we got to see them all and celebrate the holiday together.
Somewhere in all that turkey laden bliss something completely messed up happened, and I am having a hard time fitting it into my head. While we were all celebrating our togetherness, someone snuck into the guest room and stole $80 from us! I mean, who does that? And on Thanksgiving of all days!
Of course, it pissed us off and hurt us. Its not like we have money to burn, and we spent over $200 on that Thanksgiving already. But what really cheeses me is the fact that, in my life, my family has stolen more from me than strangers have.
Let me be clear here: I don't know who took the $80. I can't even imagine who might have done it. All I know is that it was taken at a time when only family could have taken it, so deductive reasoning leaves no alternatives.
But if you go back 10 years or so, the person stealing from me was my step brother, Dusty. I mean, sure the guy is obviously mentally unstable and possibly disabled. But he stole a whole bunch of stuff from me, which he then pawned. I can only assume that he bought Meth with the money. He was not the brightest light on the Christmas tree. Yeah, it made me mad, and I no longer trusted him with 2 cents, but it was expected from him. At least I got my climbing gear back. The worst part is, that hoser has never even been man enough to apologize.
OK, so what is the point of all of this? I guess the point is that I expect better from my family. Maybe I am naive to do so, but there it is. I was not surprised when Dusty stole my stuff. He was an idiot and had impulse control issues. But nobody in my family now is an idiot. I just can't make sense of it. What could drive a decent, normal person to hurt someone they love like that? What kind of greed and selfishness could motivate someone to hurt someone else in such a callous way? It makes no sense to me. Not in my family.
And yet: yes, in my family.
I figured it has been a while since I posted last, so I should show at least some sign of life, lest the blogosphere Search and Rescue be sent out after me.
OK, so here is what I am gonna write about - or rant about. My family.
As a general rule, my family is fantastic. I love all of my siblings, ex, half, step, inlaw and otherwise. Well, maybe not so much loving the ex-step-siblings, but I digress. Sometimes my older brother and I don't see eye to eye, but other than that, it is pretty much smooth familial sailing.
It was great to celebrate Thanksgiving with all of them (minus my big brother, who was in Chicago). We got to see our brand new nephew Koven (or Garbonzo, as he will be known to the world) and we got to spend some quality time with the folks. We would have liked more time with Jon and Chandelle and the nieces, but at least we got to see them all and celebrate the holiday together.
Somewhere in all that turkey laden bliss something completely messed up happened, and I am having a hard time fitting it into my head. While we were all celebrating our togetherness, someone snuck into the guest room and stole $80 from us! I mean, who does that? And on Thanksgiving of all days!
Of course, it pissed us off and hurt us. Its not like we have money to burn, and we spent over $200 on that Thanksgiving already. But what really cheeses me is the fact that, in my life, my family has stolen more from me than strangers have.
Let me be clear here: I don't know who took the $80. I can't even imagine who might have done it. All I know is that it was taken at a time when only family could have taken it, so deductive reasoning leaves no alternatives.
But if you go back 10 years or so, the person stealing from me was my step brother, Dusty. I mean, sure the guy is obviously mentally unstable and possibly disabled. But he stole a whole bunch of stuff from me, which he then pawned. I can only assume that he bought Meth with the money. He was not the brightest light on the Christmas tree. Yeah, it made me mad, and I no longer trusted him with 2 cents, but it was expected from him. At least I got my climbing gear back. The worst part is, that hoser has never even been man enough to apologize.
OK, so what is the point of all of this? I guess the point is that I expect better from my family. Maybe I am naive to do so, but there it is. I was not surprised when Dusty stole my stuff. He was an idiot and had impulse control issues. But nobody in my family now is an idiot. I just can't make sense of it. What could drive a decent, normal person to hurt someone they love like that? What kind of greed and selfishness could motivate someone to hurt someone else in such a callous way? It makes no sense to me. Not in my family.
And yet: yes, in my family.
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