Popeye, my first childhood hero, was more right than he knew: Spinach to power green computers, phones
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There really is a Potted Meat Museum, apparently, as I read in Greg Haymes’ Times Union column. Sarge, this is VERY disturbing.
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As a black church-going man, I was VERY fascinated with the Washington Post article How Today’s Church Is Failing Black Men, by John W. Fountain,
Journalism Professor and Former Post Reporter. If this article disappears, please let me know; I have the full-text in an e-mail sent to me.
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Top 10 Driving Songs, from About.com: “Drivers who are singing along to favorite music are likely to concentrate more on their driving and are less likely to fall asleep.” So this will not only entertain you, it may save somebody’s life, maybe even your own.
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Conversely, some of these folks, “winners” of the Darwin Awards lacked the capacity for self-preservation.
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I know you I’m sure all you erudite computer maven types know this, but as librarian, I get queried on a wide range of things not as commonly known as you might think. I was asked recently if the fact that you type in the URL and nothing comes up means that the website is available. I said, no. Actually, I said, “NO!” I directed them to a couple websites such as Whois Source or InterNIC. I suggested they buzz around the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers website, for even more info.
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Which American City Provides The Best Consumer Test Market? If your from these parts, you know, it’s Albany, NY. Or more specifically, “the Albany, NY Metropolitan Statistical Area (MSA) has a consumer life stage profile that correlates almost perfectly with the consumer life stage profile of the whole U.S., with a correlation score of .90904 (A score of 1 would be a perfect correlation.)” Where does your MSA rate? Check here. Albany, New York: the epitome of America. This came out last year, but I had need to look it up this month, and pass it on to you lucky folks. (Also, I didn’t blog last year.)
Category: church
"What have you learned, Dorothy?"
This month:
I’ve learned that this blogging thing can be very addicting. I’ve learned when I don’t have Internet access to posting, I get quite verklempt.
I’ve learned that creating an outline of what I want to address on specific dates is a double-edged sword. I can have a piece done two weeks early for one date (but inevitably, I always tweak it one more time), or I can have nothing planned for the next day and hope for divine inspiration. I KNOW (I believe) what I’m going to write about for 7 of the 8 days between June 14 and June 21, and also July 10, August 10, and August 28, but not for June 3.
I’ve learned that I can prepare something for a date, then bump it for something that’s more urgent, or intriguing, or whimsical. (I’ve bumped one completed piece thrice, another twice.)
I’ve learned that a kernel of an idea can lead to a (less than satisfying) one paragraph, or it can surprise me by expanding into directions I didn’t expect. (The May 20 Gilmore Girls was one of the latter – that piece, BTW, bumped a completed piece.)
I’ve learned that I don’t know what it means when one sister writes about my blog, “INTERESTING” in 24-point type.
I’ve learned that my story on Lydia’s name (May 22) was probably the most popular piece of the month. It hit some sort of universal nerve. Lydia, BTW, is all well now (May 7).
I’ve learned that there are actually people who want to read about the JEOPARDY! and FantaCo stories. One must accede to the public in these matters.
I’ve learned that Comic Book Galaxy has a link to my blog.
I’ve learned that when someone tells me that Greenland is part of Europe, I have to check to prove that, in fact, Greenland is part of North America, it is, it is, just as I thought. (Actually, I’ve known for a long time that I have the “need to know” -it’s a librarian disease.)
I’ve learned that the new Stevie Wonder CD (May 13 entry) is apparently delayed until this month, but that my wife will get it for me for our anniversary when it comes out.
(And speaking of my wife’s and my anniversary, I wrote in my May 15 entry about the NC pastor who had forced out the Kerry-supporting parishioners. Well, the pastor in my parallel story is still there, and I’ve learned that he is expected to be there for another three years.
The Pastor Parish Relations Committee chair in that story received a rude awakening. When she retired from her career job, she served as secretary of the church. She was astonished to find that the pastor, who she considered a friend, would treat her as badly as he had done with previous secretaries. I learned that she moved to Florida.
And the Hispanic pastor who had been booted out was embraced by the Troy Conference of the United Methodist Church, and is most definitely in a better place.)
I’ve learned that it’s interesting to me to keep up with Methodist stuff. It’s like being an expatriate in the United States who becomes a citizen, but still keeps up with the goings-on in the old country.
I’ve learned that when I listen to some mixed Hembeck mixed tape, there’s invariably a song with which I’m not that familiar, but that seems to be appropriate for my state of mind.
The more we learn, the less we believe to be true.
The more we prove, the more remains to be proved.
We’ve gotta be strong men and follow a path again.
We’ve got to have faith in something bigger,
Faith in something bigger,
Faith in something big inside ourself, inside ourself.
I own The Who’s Odds and Sods on vinyl, but I’ve learned that I can hear an old song for the first time. I’ve learned that I can ignore bad grammar in pop songs…sometimes.
I’ve learned that the hardest part of these pieces is the ending.
Community
I live in the Pine Hills section of Albany, NY. But I’m also part of a work community, the librarian community, and now, a bloggers’ community, among many others. One I’ve valued a great deal is the church community.
Carol and I got married in the largest Methodist church in Albany on May 15, 1999. Little did we know that we would be leaving that community less than two years later.
I’ll try not to get too arcane here. In January 2000, the Pastor Parish Relations Committee suspended the choir, the fact that the PPRC had no authority to do that in Methodist polity notwithstanding. At about the same time, the pastor of Spanish-speaking part of the congregation was squeezed out.
For the next couple weeks, Carol and I attended worship in the cold, inaccessible basement of the other Methodist church where the Spanish-speakers found themselves. (By “cold”, I mean that my feet got numb, even with my boots on. By “inaccessible”, I mean that I helped carry a man downstairs in his wheelchair.)
There was a meeting of the PPRC chair and the choir in March. The choir members had hoped that this would have been an opportunity to clarify the issues, and to create an atmosphere of reconciliation. Instead, it was, unfortunately, a lecture by the PPRC chair, with no real chance to respond to the mostly baseless accusations. There was a suggestion that the choir could come back if the members signed a loyalty oath to the pastor. A loyalty oath! After the meeting, the chair seemed pleased with the outcome; I told her it was b*******.
Even before this meeting, I had started singing in the choir of the church around the corner. But, ultimately, Carol & I left our old church, not just because of these events, but because the governance of church had been changed so that there was little redress. (The opposition to this change in governance, labeled as obstructionist, was the primary “crime” of many in the choir.)
We still have friends at our old church where I was member for a decade and a half, where Carol was member for nearly a decade, where we met, where we wed, but we changed our membership three years ago.
The story about the folks getting kicked out of their church for their voting patterns resonated with me, and even more if you see it on
video. (You may need to download software.) They were forced out and we left voluntarily, but the sense of sadness, loss, abandonment, and perhaps a touch of anger still lingers. In any case, we feel grateful that we have found another community in which we can participate in the church around the corner.
Not a very romantic piece for our 6th anniversary, is it? Still, I believe the experience strengthened my bond with Carol. And with Lydia, we have a (small) community of our own.
Happy anniversary, Carol. I love you.