I'm joining the masses in declaring that Juno was absolutely wonderful.

Jeffrey Overstreet was worried that Christians would exploit it as a pro-life movie, rather than seeing it for the wonderful movie it was. But after seeing it, I think it's a little too far above their heads to be used in that way. Sure, it's a nice peripheral theme that can be discussed, but there are too many other things going on, I think, for it to be boiled down that much, even as hard as some Christians might try.

I, on the other hand, am worried Juno is getting labeled as a teen comedy. I assume because of Michael Cera's earlier performance in Superbad, high schools across the nation are thinking Juno is the next hilarious movie filled with penis jokes. Maybe it's the similarity in plot to Superbad's relative Knocked Up that drew them out on opening night.

Whatever the case, I was extremely surprised to be sitting in a sold out theater where the mean age was probably no higher than 20. Rarely do Erica and I feel like the OLD ones in the theater. Surely these kids are not seeing Juno because they've heard great things about the screenplay, or because they're simply huge fans of Arrested Development, or they've seen Jason Reitman's previous work and have found him to create very intelligent comedies.

I'm wondering what their reactions were. If you were looking for a teen comedy, there was very little satisfaction to be found. A lot of this, I'm guessing, went over their heads. I'm not saying they couldn't enjoy it, I'm sure they did. But I don't think the majority of them could appreciate it.

Am I sounding pretentious? Maybe.

All I'm saying is, if you were planning to pass Juno by because it's just another teen comedy: don't. It's not a teen comedy.

The screenplay is brilliant. The characters are wonderful. The soundtrack is charming. The story is heartfelt. The humor is intelligent. It's a good movie.

It felt like Little Miss Sunshine without being contrived. It felt like Junebug without the quirk. It felt like Knocked Up without the raunch.

It felt like perfection!

We went to bed around 1:30 AM.

It's 6:50 AM now, and I'm wide awake.

Do I wake up Erica by jumping up and down on the bed? Or do I sit patiently in the livingroom staring at presents, waiting for her to wake up on her own?

It's the story of my life. I'm 24 years old, but things are no different than when I was 10.

Micah 5:4-5
He will stand and shepherd his flock
in the strength of the LORD,
in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God.
And they will live securely, for then his greatness
will reach to the ends of the earth.

And he will be their peace.

---

Eph 2:13-14
But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ.

For he himself is our peace,

who has made the two one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility.

---

We throw this word peace around an awful lot, but rarely do we pause to think about what it truly means or looks like, and rarely do we truly experience it, or if we do, we aren't realizing it.

In these days, may we pause to reflect on Christ as our peace, the only source of the shalom our world is searching for, and in our own lives, may we truly sense his peace that surpasses our understanding.

And so, Erica and I wish you a very merry and meaningful Christmas!

Don't have time to listen to all 36 streamed entries over at Asthmatic Kitty like you're a teacher enjoying a Christmas vacation with all of his shopping finished already? Don't worry, I've done all the work for you. Here are the highlights you should be sure to check out...

(Go to AK website, click on AKRadio at the top of the page.)

There are three I keep coming back to:
Oh The Sun's "A New Empire is Underway..." strikes a major chord with me. All at once beautiful and quirky, awkward and charming, it made my jaw drop the first time I heard it, and then I giggled with excitement and wanted to jump around the house with joy.

I had a similar reaction to Yoyoyo Acapulco's song in a foreign tongue. Of course, the ukulele, accordion, and backup kids are surefire ways to get my attention. And his voice sounds very familiar to a French artist Erica and I discovered over the summer.

La Strada's "Noel (A Love Song)" is close to being a masterpiece. Maybe they just make me feel good because I think they might be the only ones who spent more time making their song than I did. It sounds like they've got a full orchestra in their livingroom. It's wonderful. I'm sure the odd time signatures were hard for Sufjan to ignore. He had to resist this one pretty hard. A valiant effort, indeed.

And the others that catch my attention are:
-Castledoor's "Leave it on the Sleigh" is a really great pop tune.
-The Choir at Your Door is pretty.
-Candy Claws' "Snowdrift Wish" intrigues.
-The Palace Flophouse's "Emily" works only because it's so short.
-Left with Pictures' "Where were you this Christmas?" is hip, jazzy, sassy, and loveable.
-Karli Fairbanks has a nice voice and her song has a nice beat.
-Cocoon is pretty catchy.
-Nathan Phillips has some nice subtle fretwork going on. Pretty without trying too hard.

Joel Rakes, on the other hand, thought John Mayer was running this contest. When he found out it was actually Sufjan, he thought he could still enter by adding a banjo in the background. The title to his song was the first clue. As much as I don't prefer it, it really could be a smash hit on college radio right away. Now, High, Meek & Mighty is in a similar category, but it's pulled off much more nicely, leaning more towards a Richard Swift b-side.

Mark's favorite entry, of course, is Band LeGrand's "Merry Merry Christmas." I'd be impressed if it wasn't done completely in midi. It's a nice fun song, but there isn't one real sounding instrument there!

So, when you're wrapping presents tomorrow, pull your laptop up close and stream these songs. It's interesting and laughable to notice how many people tried to win Sufjan over by using a banjo in their songs. And the whole thing, as Sufjan himself writes, is indeed a fascinating sociological project.

Much praise to AK for their continual creativity and gusto, particularly this time of year.

Fun Fact:

I picked up the 1978 edition of the Guinness Book of World Records today. I happened to notice just now that the longest recorded solo guitar playing marathon was 200 hours and 2 minutes, set by a guy in July of 1978.

Where did it happen?

Marion, Indiana.

This holiday season marked the first year I received gifts as a teacher.

My first year I received one card: a piece of white printer paper folded in half with the words "Merry Christmas" scrawled in pencil on the front. Last year that was upgraded to one real card with a precious little note written inside.

I knew Christmas gifts were part of the deal at this new school. I was even under the (not quite true) impression that it would nearly make up for the pay cut I'd be taking. So, while I was obviously excited, I don't think I was quite ready for the bizarre and overwhelming experience it would turn out to be.

After the kids left Wednesday afternoon, I packed up all the presents into three different bags. I had to go get my car and pull it up to the building, making three trips to load everything. And as soon as I got home, I opened each one.

But I call it bizarre and overwhelming because the experience brought on a full range of mixed emotions. Gratitude and greed, excitement and shame, happiness and humility, pleasure and regret.

It was truly overwhelming to be surrounded by such a large pile of presents while thinking of the kids I left last year. And while some of the "lack of presents" in years past obviously has to do with the wide economic difference between demographics, I realized as I was opening that it has just as much--if not more---to do with the importance of education in each demographic. Some of the kids I taught in previous years could have afforded presents. But the sad truth of the matter is they and their parents would never think to show gratitude to their teachers. School is not looked upon as an important and valuable opportunity, something for which to be appreciative, but rather as an inconvenient obligation, something to begrudgingly accept as a part of life for the time being.

And that is what became most overwhelming in this process of receiving, carrying, loading, unloading, and opening presents. I was humbled by the fact that these kids and their parents saw me as deserving of a token of gratitude. I was overwhelmed by the fact that I am an important and appreciated influence in the lives of over 50 children.

All of a sudden it didn't matter so much what the gifts were. How many others can say they receive gifts from 50 different people at Christmastime?

What a scary and humbling privilege and honor! And what a sad contrast to years past.

NEWSFLASH: Sufjan Stevens and AK have finally posted the results of their Christmas Contest.

Sadly, with competing against 600 other entries, none of us are mentioned anywhere. But be sure to check it out anyway!

I have yet to listen to all the 36 streamed entries, but I really am loving the winning entry. It's very very nice.

For some reason, I really liked reading this this morning...

He loved to get outside and would run barefoot through the grass. Vodka he drank in moderation, and his favourite food was simple country fare with his greatest luxury a slice of sausage in a bread roll.

You can tell a lot about a man by the way he shovels snow.

It's a snow-day of sorts, and Erica and I are both feeling a tad bit sick. We're trying to make the most of it, progressing on Christmas gifts and other projects, but things like naps and tv-on-the-internet have been stealing our attention. I really must at least get to grading a few papers. Looks like our road has been plowed now, so that gives us a little more motivation to get out.

Anyway,

Here is a nice advent reflection.

If it hasn't already come and gone from your local hole-in-the-wall indie joint, be sure to catch Lars and the Real Girl. It's worth it. It's a charming little thing that becomes a lovely little advent reflection of its own. There are a lot of similarities to other movies (Punch-Drunk Love, Stranger Than Fiction, Junebug, About Schmidt, and even this year's Dan in Real Life, I think), really any movie that stars a slightly peculiar lead character, but it has enough bizarre uniqueness to stand on its own.

Still no word from Asthmatic Kitty...but Sounds Familyre is posting their very own collection of music songs for their roster's artists. Free! It's pretty nice so far. Half-Handed Cloud is sweet as always, Dan Zimmerman is nice, and I absolutely love the Soul-Junk song.

Last night I broke out the saxophone for the youth group's 50's party. Wes Checkeye and the Drive-Ins cranked out quite a few hits, and I was glad to join them as always. I honestly cannot tell you the last time I touched that saxophone. I have no idea. It came back considerably quickly though, and boy did it feel nice to have it back in my hands.

That's all the random thoughts for now. If I can muster up the focus, I'll crank out another post or two before this snowday is through.

Asthmatic Kitty announces the winner this weekend, so we need to distribute these to all our friends before one of them becomes their property. Thanks to Jamin for hosting these mp3s; I believe if you click on them you can listen, and if you want to save them and download them, you can do that also.

I spent a lot of time this week fixing Mark's and mixing it properly. I'm pleased with the outcome, but I regret it's not the version being judged. Erica's is not completely finished, either. There's some work to be done on her's, and that's what I'll start working on next. When I finish that, I'll post the new version. That is, of course, if AK doesn't own it by then.

So here you go. Enjoy...

Mark's submission: Doc Evans and the In-Laws - The Greatest Day
Wesley's submission: Addison - Holiday Cheer
Erica's submission: Asterjoy - Christmas Toys for Everyone

Our going-on-five-year-old nephew Logan stopped by our house last night. I'm still not quite sure how the conversation got started, but we eventually told him that one of Santa's workshops
was on the third floor of our apartment building, right above our apartment. His eyes grew huge and lit up, and from there on out every sound he heard was a "waindeer" or santa himself. This was very exciting news.

And so, somewhere along the way, Logan and Taylor decided they needed to venture up to the 3rd floor. We warned them that if Santa saw us, they'd land on his naughty list for sure. But Logan was driven forward, half by Christmas magic and half by his love for Scooby Doo and curiosity of all things "spoooky." So we ventured up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Logan tip-toed all the way up to our neighbors' two doors on the 3rd floor.

Ever so quietly, he looked from me to the door, back to me and back to the door again with wide eyes and a big grin.

He tiptoed closer, leaned forward, and placed his ear against Abby's door. He looked back at me with an even bigger grin and even wider eyes.

I pointed to the old-fashioned keyhole on the door and pointed to my eye. With little hesitation, he crouched down and peered through.

Suddenly, something clicked in all four of us, where we finally realized what we were doing and the danger of it, and we sprinted loudly back down the stairs with lots of giggles.

Logan gave his parents in a full report back in our livingroom.

He saw a "wed" suit, walking across the "woom." It was SANTA. It was him. And he promises he's not lying.

And so, I told him to go home and plan a little expedition to explore Santa's workshop a bit more. I talked to his Dad a little earlier tonight, and apparently the plans are all drawn up already.

Abby, if you happen to be reading this, I hope you're not freaked out by this. We're also going to need to stage a Santa's workshop party within the next few weeks. You in?

The latest installment in Mr. Shorb's series of quotes was given today, taken from G.K. Chesterton in his introduction of Orthodoxy.

"Even a bad shot is dignified when he accepts a duel."

I let the kids interpret it and write a short reflection. They seemed to like this one a lot better than Franz Wright, and admittedly, it is a nice counterpart to that poem. They balance each other out nicely.

One girl wrote, "This is a very good quote, and I am glad to know it. G.K. Chesterton was a very clever guy."

Yes!

Besides that, the students are responsible for memorizing the lyrics to Once in Royal David's City, mostly in preparation for the upcoming Christmas concert. I had them singing along with Sufjan Steven's version this morning, and half of the them were dancing around the room.

I'll have these kids brainwashed in no time! They already enjoy working quietly with Six Parts Seven playing in the background. Next I'll show them Winged Migration and Microcosmos! Then I'll have them write screenplays to accompany songs by Explosions in the Sky! By the end of the year, I'll introduce them to Icelandic instrumental ensembles, musical saws, and theremins! Slowly but surely!

I have an uncanny knack for picking the wrong film to watch when going to the movies alone.

Erica was away at school today, and I decided to see a matinee by myself. I chose No Country For Old Men. I'm not sure what I'll need to do to detox from that one, but it's going to take a while.

I talked to Erica briefly about it, and told her how dark and depressing it was. She remembered me saying the same thing when I saw a movie alone a couple years back. It took us a while to remember which it was, but then it clicked...

Million Dollar Baby.

Yikes.

If I had to do our wedding over again, and wasn't concerned about confusing or disheartening people, I would do two things.

First, I would go through with that mewithout you quote I wanted to use, about intending to be failures in this world.

Second, I would have someone sing this ballad.


Pending Erica's approval, of course.

I'm trying to curb the unhealthy degrees of perfectionism in my classroom. It's no easy task.

And it's a laughable goal compared to what I was facing in the past. I would have killed for just one good perfectionist in just one of my classes. Was that too much to ask? And now I've got way too many of them.

So I remembered a poem a friend shared with me once. It's a short little ditty by Franz Wright.
I loved this poem the minute I saw it, how it instills a deep sense of comforting grace in its simplicity.

I decided to do an experiment, and I showed it to the class. I had them copy it down in their journals. We discussed what its meaning might be, concluding that he wasn't talking only about baseball, and settling on the familiar paraphrase, "Nobody's perfect." I saw some disconcerted looks and decided to keep asking questions. What's he trying to do here? I asked. One girl explained he was encouraging and comforting us, like when you get a bad grade on a test, it's OK because nobody's perfect.

She was getting it. But nobody else was.

Several kids protested, saying this was discouraging and depressing, and claiming Mr. Wright was destroying all dreams of perfection we've ever had. He must be a cynic! Why try, now that he's told us we can't be perfect?! What's the point?!

Since they were so adamant in believing this, I asked them to edit the poem, making their own version of the poem to improve its message.

Some kids were getting there, adding a line beforehand like, "Always try for perfection, but if you don't make it, it's ok, because..." I can approve of that.

Another kid wrote something like, "Nobody's perfect, but YOU can change that." Yikes. That one I can't approve.

An interesting experiment. I'll let you draw your own conclusions. But it's no wonder we have such a hard time accepting grace or realizing our need of it.

I just found this blast from the past on YouTube:

The past 2 days have been absolutely consumed by the Great Sufjan Xmas Xchange contest sponsored by our friends at Asthmatic Kitty.

The contest? Submit a Christmas song. If it's the winner, Asthmatic Kitty gets the rights to your song, and in return, you get the rights to a never-heard-before song by Sufjan Stevens.

Erica told me Thursday morning that she was determined to write and record a song for the contest. I got a call as I was leaving school on Thursday afternoon that my brother-in-law Mark also wanted to record a song. All of a sudden I was recruited to be the producer for two different songs to be finished in two days and submitted by midnight tonight.

Mark's song went quickly. It's a hilarious rip-roaring rocker, complete with piano, drums, bass, electric guitar, sleigh bells, and trombone.

Erica's song developed a little more slowly. It's a slightly sardonic commentary on Christmas consumerism completed with my office full of toys: guitar, bass, snare drum, sleigh bells and shaker, accordion and desk bells.

As if this job wasn't enough to fill the day, we went and got our Christmas tree this morning. Then we went to see my niece Taylor in the Nutcracker. I got home around 4:00 and haven't left the couch since. It's been, quite literally, nine hours straight.

The worst part is, neither one was completely finished. But I sent what I had as close to midnight as possible. We'll see what happens from here.

Now it's time to clean up. Instruments are strewn all across the house. The dining room table has a flute, a box of harmonicas, some brushes, and an empty accordion box nearby. The office has the bass and guitar still out of their cases, the musical saw, and a half-opened bag of percussion instruments. A cello is sitting in the corner of the living room with the djembe beside, sleigh bells and tambourine on the coffee table, accordion thrown on the couch and snare drum still near the computer.

We're not the only ones submitting. My other brother-in-law Wes made an amazingly joyful song complete with a beautiful tone chime and glockenspiel dialogue. It's gosh-darn wonderful.

If our songs aren't streamed at AK in a few weeks, I'll see what I can do about posting them somewhere where they can be retrieved.

It's been an insane way to start the holiday season. Merry Christmas.