Kinda like the time--a year ago--we showed up to a concert together and noticed pretty much the same thing.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Who Wore It Best?
So, Wes and Roshelle showed up at our house tonight with a delectable fish taco to share, but Erica and I couldn't help but notice something other than the beauty of that plate they prepared. These siblings have an uncanny ability to dress exactly like one another. Jeans rolled up, ponytails, hand on hip and all! Can you tell which is which? It's like identical twins up in here!!!!
Kinda like the time--a year ago--we showed up to a concert together and noticed pretty much the same thing.
Kinda like the time--a year ago--we showed up to a concert together and noticed pretty much the same thing.
suburbs
In case you don't know, Arcade Fire is one of the most significant bands making music today. They've put out two albums in a row that were pretty much flawless. The third is called The Suburbs and it's about to be released this week. Take note.
I've recently confessed my apathetic attitude toward show-going in my older age, but this is one band I recently vowed not to miss if I ever had the chance. Well, Monday's my chance at the Mann Center for the Performing Arts in Philadelphia with Spoon opening. Pricey tickets in hand. I'm quite excited.
If you want to know what the hype is about, well, this little band is heading up to NYC right after Philly for TWO shows at this small hole-in-the-wall called Madison Square Garden. On Thursday night, while Erica and I will be stuck on a small island without electricity let alone wifi, you can watch the show being streamed on YouTube. You know what to do.
It's not often I'm promoting a band that's this popular, so you should realize how serious this is.
more info: arcadefire.com
I've recently confessed my apathetic attitude toward show-going in my older age, but this is one band I recently vowed not to miss if I ever had the chance. Well, Monday's my chance at the Mann Center for the Performing Arts in Philadelphia with Spoon opening. Pricey tickets in hand. I'm quite excited.
If you want to know what the hype is about, well, this little band is heading up to NYC right after Philly for TWO shows at this small hole-in-the-wall called Madison Square Garden. On Thursday night, while Erica and I will be stuck on a small island without electricity let alone wifi, you can watch the show being streamed on YouTube. You know what to do.
It's not often I'm promoting a band that's this popular, so you should realize how serious this is.
more info: arcadefire.com
This is Summer.
I'm increasingly thankful that a) my wife keeps carrying the camera everywhere we go b) she remembers to take pictures and c) she takes good ones.This is the night we went to see some of my former students play lacrosse. They won the championship. And the kid found a new sport to love.
tension
I've finally settled it. What makes a good movie? A movie you can come back to again and again with always more to see and discuss?
Tension.
We watched The Visitor again with a group of people last night. The first time around I simply saw some heartwarming characters who were crossing cultural barriers in acts of kindness and compassion. I saw that again this time around, but I also saw more to the immigration issues that I tried to dismiss the first time I saw it.
Whether certain immigration laws are right or just or fair is up for debate. But as it stands, there are certain laws these characters chose to break and with those come consequences they inadvertently chose to accept. There are all sorts of typical objections: "It's not fair!" and "It's not your fault!" and "You did nothing wrong!" and "He's a good person!" And as much as your heart wants to agree, the sad fact of the matter is a law was knowingly broken.
So there's a complex tension here. Extremely endearing people enjoying life in a country that prides itself on being built by immigrants put against certain laws being broken and certain consequences coming along with them. This is a tension that anyone must wrestle with no matter where one stands on immigration law and its reform. Yes, these are beautiful people, and yes, these are people who are breaking certain laws.
And, in my mind, that's exactly what makes a rich and powerful movie.
Like Half Nelson featuring an engaging teacher who is also a drug addict.
Like Into the Wild featuring a guy who takes on the adventure we all desire but is also a self-centered brat.
Like Where the Wild Things Are with creatures who want a king and don't want a king.
Like The Wrestler showing a man who loves being in the center of the ring and hates being known only for his wrestling identity.
Like 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days that shows the atrocities of abortion and the atrocities of anti-abortion laws.
These are honest movies, responsible with their characters rather than resorting to one-dimensional stock characters, responsible with their depiction of life rather than resorting to an agenda or a story they want to tell.
Because The Visitor could have easily been an agenda film. Half Nelson could have been the story of the successful inner-city teacher that everyone loves. Into the Wild could have glorified a self-centered lifestyle of shirking responsibility. Where the Wild Things are could have been about the freedom of doing whatever you want to do. The Wrestler could have been just a beating-the-odds movie about pro-wrestling. And 4 Months could have just complained about anti-abortion laws under communism without showing the grave realities of abortion. Those movies would have been more acceptable, had wider appeal, maybe sold more tickets. But they would no longer be meaning-full or truth-full. They would no longer capture the human condition.
Because isn't the human condition a life of tension? Made in the image of a loving creator yet enslaved by the sinful effects of the fall? Life is all at once beautiful and meaningless.
So, if I had a friend who was, say, going to a masters program for screenwriting, my one request would be that he never, ever avoids tension.
Tension.
We watched The Visitor again with a group of people last night. The first time around I simply saw some heartwarming characters who were crossing cultural barriers in acts of kindness and compassion. I saw that again this time around, but I also saw more to the immigration issues that I tried to dismiss the first time I saw it.
Whether certain immigration laws are right or just or fair is up for debate. But as it stands, there are certain laws these characters chose to break and with those come consequences they inadvertently chose to accept. There are all sorts of typical objections: "It's not fair!" and "It's not your fault!" and "You did nothing wrong!" and "He's a good person!" And as much as your heart wants to agree, the sad fact of the matter is a law was knowingly broken.
So there's a complex tension here. Extremely endearing people enjoying life in a country that prides itself on being built by immigrants put against certain laws being broken and certain consequences coming along with them. This is a tension that anyone must wrestle with no matter where one stands on immigration law and its reform. Yes, these are beautiful people, and yes, these are people who are breaking certain laws.
And, in my mind, that's exactly what makes a rich and powerful movie.
Like Half Nelson featuring an engaging teacher who is also a drug addict.
Like Into the Wild featuring a guy who takes on the adventure we all desire but is also a self-centered brat.
Like Where the Wild Things Are with creatures who want a king and don't want a king.
Like The Wrestler showing a man who loves being in the center of the ring and hates being known only for his wrestling identity.
Like 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days that shows the atrocities of abortion and the atrocities of anti-abortion laws.
These are honest movies, responsible with their characters rather than resorting to one-dimensional stock characters, responsible with their depiction of life rather than resorting to an agenda or a story they want to tell.
Because The Visitor could have easily been an agenda film. Half Nelson could have been the story of the successful inner-city teacher that everyone loves. Into the Wild could have glorified a self-centered lifestyle of shirking responsibility. Where the Wild Things are could have been about the freedom of doing whatever you want to do. The Wrestler could have been just a beating-the-odds movie about pro-wrestling. And 4 Months could have just complained about anti-abortion laws under communism without showing the grave realities of abortion. Those movies would have been more acceptable, had wider appeal, maybe sold more tickets. But they would no longer be meaning-full or truth-full. They would no longer capture the human condition.
Because isn't the human condition a life of tension? Made in the image of a loving creator yet enslaved by the sinful effects of the fall? Life is all at once beautiful and meaningless.
So, if I had a friend who was, say, going to a masters program for screenwriting, my one request would be that he never, ever avoids tension.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Male Bonding
Sawteeth Peak, Adirondack Mountains.13 mile hike, 4,100 feet up.
Andy's 45th high peak out of 46.
There were some doubts at first, but we all made it.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Listening (and not listening) to Menomena
No one taught me how to treat an album with respect. But in the past few years--and it probably started in a more official, dramatic way in 2005 with Sufjan's Illinois--I've treated new CDs with the same sort of reverence audiophiles had for their brand new LPs. What I mean, I guess, is that even if I'm resorting to a digital copy--something I do very rarely and for only certain albums--I wait until the release date. Then I wait until I can get some time by myself. I find the best method of playing for the best audio quality. And I listen straight through, doing very little besides listening, maybe looking at the artwork, browsing through lyrics and liner notes.
I don't know why I do it. It's a source of pleasure, a way to truly give my attention to the music, rather than letting it be purely background music. It's also my way of giving things a fair shot, and giving some respect to the hard work musicians put into their art.
So, that's my typical habit. But when I surfed upon the treasure of Menomena's new album streaming in its entirety over at NPR, I couldn't resist. I'm ruining the whole experience by streaming it while surfing the web.
And it's very good. Very very good. (Meaning you should go listen!)
Just the other week, we listened to Friend and Foe in the car and I said to Erica, "I really really like this band." They are just so utterly creative and original, and their attention to detail is highly admirable.
All that to say, I feel kinda guilty about cheating on them. I kinda wish I was holding the packaging and artwork right now. (Meaning you should wait to listen and buy the CD!)
I don't know why I do it. It's a source of pleasure, a way to truly give my attention to the music, rather than letting it be purely background music. It's also my way of giving things a fair shot, and giving some respect to the hard work musicians put into their art.
So, that's my typical habit. But when I surfed upon the treasure of Menomena's new album streaming in its entirety over at NPR, I couldn't resist. I'm ruining the whole experience by streaming it while surfing the web.
And it's very good. Very very good. (Meaning you should go listen!)
Just the other week, we listened to Friend and Foe in the car and I said to Erica, "I really really like this band." They are just so utterly creative and original, and their attention to detail is highly admirable.
All that to say, I feel kinda guilty about cheating on them. I kinda wish I was holding the packaging and artwork right now. (Meaning you should wait to listen and buy the CD!)
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Teachable Moments
I'm late in starting, but I'd really like to keep a record of the ridiculous things fathers are forced to say in trying to teach a two year old. Some samples in recent memory, not surprisingly all revolving around the proper use of tools:
"Please take your drill out of my ear."
"No, please don't saw Papa's face."
and just today...
"No! No! No! We don't hammer the cucumbers!"
"Please take your drill out of my ear."
"No, please don't saw Papa's face."
and just today...
"No! No! No! We don't hammer the cucumbers!"
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
American Splendor
If you don't know who Harvey Pekar is, you've never watched American Splendor. Well, Harvey passed away yesterday, so now's as good a time as any to get caught up. He was a character of a man, which is why he fit so well into comic books and a movie like this one. And this film was so creatively well-done.
I realize if I want street cred I should be talking about the comic books or the stint on Letterman more than the movie. The movie is all I know, and I think it's a fine place to start.
I realize if I want street cred I should be talking about the comic books or the stint on Letterman more than the movie. The movie is all I know, and I think it's a fine place to start.
Friday, July 09, 2010
I Still Like Where the Wild Things Are
[Already said a lot of this here...but there's more.]
I was very excited about Where the Wild Things Are when it came out. I had waited a long time for it, and felt it met my high expectations. Since that first viewing, however, there have been plenty of people, professional critics and personal friends alike, who have expressed their dislike for the film.
I finally got my chance to watch it a second time last night. Two things happened: 1) I was reminded why I felt it was so powerful the first time I watched and 2) I realized just how quirky it was and why not everyone would like it.
Yes, it's a melancholy movie. Now, as one who is often nicknamed Eeyore, I know I'm a bit biased. But I feel pretty strongly that any movie accurately portraying this world is going to feel melancholy. If it doesn't, it's not being truthful, at least not completely. There is a problem in this fallen world and every human is feeling it whether they acknowledge it or not. Usually problems, especially cosmic ones, are melancholic ordeals, no?
And that's precisely why I love Wild Things. It captures the essence of the human condition, showing that it starts as a child and never really goes away. We simultaneously want a King and refuse a King, and to make it even more confusing, we want to be the King ourselves. Making sense of this is not easy, and it leads towards all sorts of selfishness, insecurity, hurt, loneliness, and sadness.
So when the Wild Things ask...
"So, you were their king...and you made everything right?"
"Well, you know, what about loneliness?"
"What he's saying is, will you keep out all the sadness?"
...I hear centuries of Old Testament wanderings and waitings. Eager and weary expectation. And I hear the hurt and pain and wanderings of every human heart even today. The human condition. Harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.
Max's promise is bold:
"I have a sadness shield, it keeps out all the sadness. It's big enough for all of us. And I can demolish loneliness."
When one Wild Thing objects, "I don't understand. He doesn't look like a king," I hear the words of Isaiah: "nothing in his appearance that we should desire him."
All this to say, Wild Things comes so close in so vividly showing the problem, our deepest desires. It points to a king that can keep out sadness and demolish loneliness, even though it's a king that doesn't meet worldly standards. But when this king turns out to be a farce and everything is just as lonely and sad and dysfunctional as before, the Wild Things conclude:
"There's no such thing as a King."
What's the answer, then? Is that it?
Perhaps simply denial and repression, like when Carol brushes off Max's concern about the sun dying: "That can't happen. You're the king, and look at me...I'm big. How could guys like us worry about a tiny thing like the sun?" That sounds familiar enough.
Maurice Sendak's answer--obsessed with the resiliency of children--might just be survival. It's all a mess, but we manage to survive anyway. (In answering about the suitability of the film for kids, he answers, "I saw the most horrendous movies that were unfit for child's eyes. So what? I managed to survive.")
If those are the answers, no wonder it's a melancholy film. But isn't there more? Another answer? Isn't there a King that can take care of loneliness and sadness? A countercultural King that doesn't fit the world's standards? A King we have an awfully hard time submitting to sometimes?
Now that I'm a father since seeing the movie the first time, it all rings even more true. When I give my son instruction, I see a tension in his eyes, not knowing if he wants to obey or not. Each time it seems to be a painful decision for him, he pauses, looks me in the eye, then looks away, as though he's saying, "I want a father, but I really wish I could do whatever I want."
I have to believe that an important part of parenting is creating a small version of the kingdom we all want. This is partly what Max was looking for and missing. Parents being kings that in some small way help with the problems of sadness and loneliness and provide the safety and structure we've always wanted in the fort of our dreams. And in so doing, moms and dads point to a greater King and a greater Kingdom.
Does answering to a King--be it a parent or God himself--take away the fun of being a Wild Thing? No--there's still plenty of room for adventure and rumpuses. But these adventures and rumpuses aren't self-serving, which end up making them a lot more fun. If you're careful, you can even have a dirt-clod fight without hurting everyone's feelings.
I was very excited about Where the Wild Things Are when it came out. I had waited a long time for it, and felt it met my high expectations. Since that first viewing, however, there have been plenty of people, professional critics and personal friends alike, who have expressed their dislike for the film.
I finally got my chance to watch it a second time last night. Two things happened: 1) I was reminded why I felt it was so powerful the first time I watched and 2) I realized just how quirky it was and why not everyone would like it.
Yes, it's a melancholy movie. Now, as one who is often nicknamed Eeyore, I know I'm a bit biased. But I feel pretty strongly that any movie accurately portraying this world is going to feel melancholy. If it doesn't, it's not being truthful, at least not completely. There is a problem in this fallen world and every human is feeling it whether they acknowledge it or not. Usually problems, especially cosmic ones, are melancholic ordeals, no?
And that's precisely why I love Wild Things. It captures the essence of the human condition, showing that it starts as a child and never really goes away. We simultaneously want a King and refuse a King, and to make it even more confusing, we want to be the King ourselves. Making sense of this is not easy, and it leads towards all sorts of selfishness, insecurity, hurt, loneliness, and sadness.
So when the Wild Things ask...
"So, you were their king...and you made everything right?"
"Well, you know, what about loneliness?"
"What he's saying is, will you keep out all the sadness?"
...I hear centuries of Old Testament wanderings and waitings. Eager and weary expectation. And I hear the hurt and pain and wanderings of every human heart even today. The human condition. Harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.
Max's promise is bold:
"I have a sadness shield, it keeps out all the sadness. It's big enough for all of us. And I can demolish loneliness."
When one Wild Thing objects, "I don't understand. He doesn't look like a king," I hear the words of Isaiah: "nothing in his appearance that we should desire him."
All this to say, Wild Things comes so close in so vividly showing the problem, our deepest desires. It points to a king that can keep out sadness and demolish loneliness, even though it's a king that doesn't meet worldly standards. But when this king turns out to be a farce and everything is just as lonely and sad and dysfunctional as before, the Wild Things conclude:
"There's no such thing as a King."
What's the answer, then? Is that it?
Perhaps simply denial and repression, like when Carol brushes off Max's concern about the sun dying: "That can't happen. You're the king, and look at me...I'm big. How could guys like us worry about a tiny thing like the sun?" That sounds familiar enough.
Maurice Sendak's answer--obsessed with the resiliency of children--might just be survival. It's all a mess, but we manage to survive anyway. (In answering about the suitability of the film for kids, he answers, "I saw the most horrendous movies that were unfit for child's eyes. So what? I managed to survive.")
If those are the answers, no wonder it's a melancholy film. But isn't there more? Another answer? Isn't there a King that can take care of loneliness and sadness? A countercultural King that doesn't fit the world's standards? A King we have an awfully hard time submitting to sometimes?
Now that I'm a father since seeing the movie the first time, it all rings even more true. When I give my son instruction, I see a tension in his eyes, not knowing if he wants to obey or not. Each time it seems to be a painful decision for him, he pauses, looks me in the eye, then looks away, as though he's saying, "I want a father, but I really wish I could do whatever I want."
I have to believe that an important part of parenting is creating a small version of the kingdom we all want. This is partly what Max was looking for and missing. Parents being kings that in some small way help with the problems of sadness and loneliness and provide the safety and structure we've always wanted in the fort of our dreams. And in so doing, moms and dads point to a greater King and a greater Kingdom.
Does answering to a King--be it a parent or God himself--take away the fun of being a Wild Thing? No--there's still plenty of room for adventure and rumpuses. But these adventures and rumpuses aren't self-serving, which end up making them a lot more fun. If you're careful, you can even have a dirt-clod fight without hurting everyone's feelings.
Colour
OK, I think I'm quitting life and joining this project tomorrow. Who's in? www.letscolourproject.com
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Thoughts on Staking Tomato Plants
During:
1) Why do I have to do this, anyway?
2) Why didn't I do this sooner?
3) Is this going to help or hurt?
After:
1) Do my hands smell good or bad?
1) Why do I have to do this, anyway?
2) Why didn't I do this sooner?
3) Is this going to help or hurt?
After:
1) Do my hands smell good or bad?
Fathers, Earthly and Heavenly
Somewhere along the way, I decided to write off Donald Miller. It could be I just didn't need Blue Like Jazz like I did my junior year in college, or I got tired of his writing style that started to seem more like a gimmick than authenticity, or maybe I began to see his theology as too fluffy and non-committal and elusive to be worth much.
I never picked up To Own a Dragon, because it sounded like it was only supposed to be for guys that grew up without fathers. While killing time in Borders today, I noticed the reissue now entitled Father Fiction, and decided to read a few chapters.
I was pleasantly surprised, today finding that he can carry a pretty good metaphor and paint a pretty compelling picture. Where most books on religion and theology are too heady and philosophical for the average person to even care, reading the chapters 'Spirituality' and 'Sex' came across as apologetics for the everyday man, for your neighbor, your roommate, for the cashier at the grocery store, your uncle who is doing the best he can to get by. Relatable and convincing. Winsome.
Spending that short time in this book made my job as a father more weighty and my response as a son adopted by a heavenly father more thoughtful.
All this to say, there are still a few idiosyncrasies that I'm not sure I'll be able to get past, but I'm not done with Donald Miller.
I never picked up To Own a Dragon, because it sounded like it was only supposed to be for guys that grew up without fathers. While killing time in Borders today, I noticed the reissue now entitled Father Fiction, and decided to read a few chapters.
I was pleasantly surprised, today finding that he can carry a pretty good metaphor and paint a pretty compelling picture. Where most books on religion and theology are too heady and philosophical for the average person to even care, reading the chapters 'Spirituality' and 'Sex' came across as apologetics for the everyday man, for your neighbor, your roommate, for the cashier at the grocery store, your uncle who is doing the best he can to get by. Relatable and convincing. Winsome.
Spending that short time in this book made my job as a father more weighty and my response as a son adopted by a heavenly father more thoughtful.
All this to say, there are still a few idiosyncrasies that I'm not sure I'll be able to get past, but I'm not done with Donald Miller.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Ready
Dreaming of Paris today. Woke up and started thinking of my Parisian birthday three years ago (turning a young 24 back then!). Unintentionally turned on Mum's "Finally We Are No One" which became the perfect walking soundtrack for mornings in St Quentin. Checked in at Take Away Shows and was introduced to Mumford and Sons and loved loved loved it. Thinking about how my new job will consist of urging souls (including my own) to wake up (and, also like Mumford, having my pronunciation corrected in the process).
Mumford & Sons - The Banjolin Song / Awake my soul - A Take Away Show #105 from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Abide
A lot of my spiritual focus (and teaching) lately has been directed towards committing yourself to the work God has for us, his mission, involvement in the body, the use of gifts, etc. It's the stage of life Erica and I are finding ourselves in, but it's also a focus because we are continually seeing the joy of the body working together by committing themselves and contributing their gifts, especially in the small church we're attending. It's also a focus because, in my opinion, too many people believe you can follow Jesus and keep living life for yourself.
But as I go though this phase of life, lately experiencing something that feels pretty close to burn out (already!?), I'm trying to take a step back and re-evaluate just a bit, and definitely realizing that message needs to be tempered and balanced quite carefully.
The story of Mary and Martha hit me quite hard recently. Martha is working hard and busying herself with good things. She is opening her home and serving her Lord in a practical way. Yet her attitude seems to show up in one small comment: "I'm doing all the work! Can I get a little help around here?" Her focus is entirely on the work, and it seems quite likely that there's even a touch of self-righteousness and pride thrown in there.
Mary, on the other hand, is sitting at Jesus' feet with no other cares in the world. And he calls this "the one thing that is needed...the thing that is better." It's a picture of peace, rest, focus, priorities, fellowship, communion, stillness, freedom from worry, a slowing down long enough to be taught. To use a word that John loved to use to sum up a relationship with Christ, it's a picture of abiding.
Yes, following Jesus will involve service--sometimes service that in certain seasons will keep you busy and even at times push you to your limits. But our priority absolutely must be on abiding. In Jesus' own words, it's more important and it's what is needed. It will keep you sane and keep your service pure and effective.
And so here's the scary thought that really got me: those times I am asked to serve in some way and I really feel I should say no? There's a very good chance it's not Satan tempting me to live life for myself. It could very well be the Holy Spirit calling me to abide.
But as I go though this phase of life, lately experiencing something that feels pretty close to burn out (already!?), I'm trying to take a step back and re-evaluate just a bit, and definitely realizing that message needs to be tempered and balanced quite carefully.
The story of Mary and Martha hit me quite hard recently. Martha is working hard and busying herself with good things. She is opening her home and serving her Lord in a practical way. Yet her attitude seems to show up in one small comment: "I'm doing all the work! Can I get a little help around here?" Her focus is entirely on the work, and it seems quite likely that there's even a touch of self-righteousness and pride thrown in there.
Mary, on the other hand, is sitting at Jesus' feet with no other cares in the world. And he calls this "the one thing that is needed...the thing that is better." It's a picture of peace, rest, focus, priorities, fellowship, communion, stillness, freedom from worry, a slowing down long enough to be taught. To use a word that John loved to use to sum up a relationship with Christ, it's a picture of abiding.
Yes, following Jesus will involve service--sometimes service that in certain seasons will keep you busy and even at times push you to your limits. But our priority absolutely must be on abiding. In Jesus' own words, it's more important and it's what is needed. It will keep you sane and keep your service pure and effective.
And so here's the scary thought that really got me: those times I am asked to serve in some way and I really feel I should say no? There's a very good chance it's not Satan tempting me to live life for myself. It could very well be the Holy Spirit calling me to abide.
Penn's Woods
We drove the three hundred some miles across Pennsylvania in the middle of the night last night. The first several hours were spent looking out each window in the car to catch fireworks from all directions, above farms and small towns and baseball fields. The last several hours were spent watching a huge rust-orange half moon rise above the horizon and continuing lifting, shrinking, whitening as we went. And there were lightning bugs lighting the way above the turnpike, too. Something about it all provided for a rare moment where I was particularly grateful to live in this state, in this country.
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