March rambling #1: Platypus Controlling Me

The Toxic Attraction Between An Empath And A Narcissist


What Is Your Name? Where Are We? Who Is President? Oh God

Trump(Doesn’t)Care cartoon

Poor People Need BETTER Health Insurance than the Rest of Us, Not Worse

The lessons we fail to learn: Warren G. Harding

American ‘Christianity’ Has Failed and I don’t want to preach a faith that can be so easily adapted to self-hatred and self-harm

How the baby boomers destroyed everything

The 1862 Binghamton (NY) Race Riot – something I did not know about my hometown

After Slavery, Searching For Loved Ones In Wanted Ads

Coins of the Rebellion: The Civil War currency of Albany merchants

Jobs, Income, and the Future

A brief history of men getting credit for women’s accomplishments

The Weight of The Last Straw

7 Lies About Welfare That Many People Believe Are Fact

Albany, NY Plane Crashes Into Houses On Landing Attempt, March 1972

Contractor sues for $2 million in unpaid bills on Drumpf’s D.C. hotel

Kellyanne Conway’s interview tricks, explained, and her boss’s 10 steps for turning lies into half-truths

A college course on calling out scientific crap

The adult children of him will ditch Secret Service protection once he leaves office

Sen. Gillibrand Has Perfect Response To Regime Misspelling Her Name

‘Where I come from’ we claim universal generalities as our peculiar virtues

Some ‘snowflakes’ can take the heat

The biggest threat facing middle-age men isn’t smoking or obesity, it’s loneliness

About Robert Osborne

Amy Biancolli: woman walks into a sandwich shop

The Toxic Attraction Between An Empath And A Narcissist

You May Want to Marry My Husband

This 75-Year Harvard Study Found the 1 Secret to Leading a Fulfilling Life

David Kalish: I am my dog’s seeing-eye person

Coke: Global ad campaign celebrates inclusion and diversity

Alphabetizing Books

Ruben Bolling won the 2017 Herblock Prize

Now I Know: The Boy Who Captured the Wind and How to Claim Antarctica and The Park at the Bottom of the Lake

MEET APRIL THE GIRAFFE, formerly from Catskill Game Farm!

Sammy Davis Jr. Oscar blunder

Cush Jumbo

Lawyer’s Pants Catch Fire During Closing Argument

Garter snakes can be super deadly

Music

Divenire – Composer Ludovico Einaudi

There’s a Platypus Controlling Me (from Phineus and Ferb)

What are the songs that best capture our moment?

K-Chuck Radio: A dose of Northern Soul

Don’t Let Me Down – The Beatles

10 Beatles Covers You Really Need to Hear

Songs about the moon

Agent Orange versus my optimism/pessimism

The Trump adult male scions – THEM I need a name for; any ideas?

Arthur could hardly find any questions at all to ask me for Ask Roger Anything:

What the hell should we call the Orange Guy? I personally don’t want to use his surname, title, or anything else that would indicate respect for him that I don’t have. What’s the alternative(s) without being too childish?

I think this is a personal decision. I’ve seen Drumpf (based on the family name) which carries over to the proto-Nazi activities such as vilifying the press, and I briefly used that, but it’s a pain to spell. Others drop the T from the surname and refer to him as Rump because he’s such an ass.

I was quite taken by Hair Furor, but it works better in writing than in spoken word, because it sounds exactly as it’s SUPPOSED to sound.

Currently, I’ve settled on Agent Orange, a defoliant used during the Vietnam war to destroy the enemy’s plant life but which managed to harm or kill innocent civilians and American troops, because I find him toxic. A guy named Michael who I knew for only a short time died from it in the early 1980s. I’m not married to that term, but it’ll do for now.

All things considered—interpret that as you want—are you optimistic or pessimistic about the future? If pessimistic, what are a couple things that if they changed might make you more optimistic? And if you’re optimistic, what’s your secret?!

Yes. I mean I’m optimistic because my faith requires it. I don’t mean this in a doctrinaire way, but rather how I take being a Christian. I believe, honestly, that people can change, that we all have a shot at redemption. I’m pessimistic because, despite my faith, that’s what I tend to default to, from painful experience.

Melancholy gets in the way too, and it’s not just me: Americans who voted against AO are feeling unprecedented dread and despair.

I’d be more optimistic if I thought we were all dealing with the same facts. There was this story about the Trump adult male scions – THEM I need a name for; any ideas? – involved in some unsavory pay-for-play scheme, for the second time since the election.

Someone, who I know personally, chimed in and said it was “Fake news. Fake news. Fake news.” And she said, “Research it.” I said, I did. And she said, “Please, check with Trump sources,” by which time the boys were backpedaling, not knowing HOW their names showed up on the invitation.

I wrote, “They realize they’ve been caught doing something egregiously wrong and try to change the narrative, to be kind. You do not seem to understand the definition of ‘fake news,’ which [contains] articles that are false, written to deceive. These are mainstream news sources [TIME, the Wall Street Journal] playing the appropriate role as the fourth estate, ignoring a politician’s spin…”

I also cited Mark Evanier, who noted: “You get the feeling we’re facing four years where the response to every single criticism of the Trump presidency will be that it’s a lie, the evidence is phony and even it were true, we don’t care what anyone says.”

And it went on from there.

John Ziegler, conservative radio host: “Over the years, we’ve effectively brainwashed the core of our audience to distrust anything that they disagree with.” The quote was in a New York Times story about how conservatives are now using the term “fake news” for anything they disagree with. And even educated people are buying into it.

We can’t fight climate changeGLOBAL WARMING if we can’t agree it’s happening. Plus the nominees for Cabinet positions under Agent Orange are anti-environment, anti-labor, anti-education, et al. How optimistic do you want me to be? Still, we try.

Only slightly off topic: NO one should ever use the phrase “Do your research” on social media without a link to the research THEY are referring to. As a librarian, I need to know WHAT sources someone is quoting that I need to investigate. I’m sure I’ve written that before, but after the aforementioned incident, I feel the need to reiterate it.

Jaquandor asks a similar question:

Is it just wishful thinking that I increasingly see Trump as the somewhat accidental victory of a dying worldview?

I find in AO’s victory, and some right-wingers in Europe, including the Brexit vote, a return to tribalism. When the world is scary, with bombings and shootings and stabbings and trucks being used as weapons, I suspect that there will be a certain desire for a “good old days” that doesn’t exist, that closing the borders ultimately won’t fix.

I would like to think of it as a dying worldview, but I’m not convinced I’m right.

I think things are likely to get pretty cruddy short-term

Now THAT I agree with!

The family saw a production of Camelot at the Capitol Rep in downtown Albany on Christmas Eve afternoon. It was EXTRAORDINARILY good, with knights and ladies and even the leading lady doubling as instrumentalists. But in the end, I was incredibly sad.

That ideal of working things out under the rules of law, and brainpower, lost! War won out. And this was a day or two after Agent Orange called for a nuclear arms race.

…but I remain optimistic long-term. Am I dumb to think that?

Well, no, you’re not dumb. Without hope, what is there?

At our most recent Christmas Eve service, I read aloud Isaiah 11: 4a, 5-9, which contains the familiar, albeit misremembered, passage about the wolf and the lamb. Either it is a prophecy, or it is an entreating that we help make it happen. Either way, I am not without hope.

 

The return to church

I found a Coptic (Egyptian Orthodox) service in Albany.

trinityalbanyAfter my rebaptism event, I was surprised to find that I felt no particular need to start going back to church. But I got a girlfriend in the fall of 1978, and Susan attended the Unitarian Church in Schenectady. I tried it, and it didn’t “take.” I was in the choir briefly, though the music never connected with me.

More to the point, it seemed that some of the policy discussions were silly, such as whether candles were “papist,” undoubtedly the concern of some lapsed Roman Catholics. Candles are CANDLES! I went to church on Christmas eve, either that year or the next, at a Catholic church, as I recall.

It wasn’t until my maternal grandmother’s funeral in 1982 that I got to seriously thinking about church. She had died in Charlotte, NC on Super Bowl Sunday, but it was her wish to be buried in her hometown of Binghamton, NY. She was cremated in Charlotte, but her remains were brought back to Binghamton in May for a service at the church in which I grew up, Trinity A.M.E. Zion.

My father, sister Leslie, and I all sat in the choir. My goodness, I’m sitting in the choir! And it hit me, “I need to be sitting in a church choir.”

Thus began the Great Church Shopping Expedition. Susan, with whom I had broken up, and then had recently gotten back together with, and I went to at least a dozen churches. What I/we were looking for, I couldn’t say.

An early contender was Trinity United Methodist Church, which shares part of its name with my home church. Moreover, and it may have been my first day there, but the minister, Stan Moore, a great guy, albeit with a crushing handshake, gave a sermon. During his remarks, he had mentioned in a positive light the massive anti-nuke rally the day before in New York City, which Susan and I had attended.

It wasn’t until December, though, when Gray Taylor, one of the tenors in the Trinity choir, came down from the loft to the front of the sanctuary to note that the choir was seeking members that I decided to come to that church regularly.

Late in 1984, I joined the church. While I was at Trinity, I got involved in the governance of the church, including chairing the Administrative Board and later chairing the Council on Ministries, which dealt with aspects of church life, worship, education, and the like.

There’s a whole lot about this period I could share, but I’m saving it for the roman à clef that I will never write.

One useful exercise, in 1995-96, was a thirty-four-week Bible study called Disciple, generally held at the home of my then ex-girlfriend, and now wife. It coincided with the third, and last time I read the Bible from cover to cover.

One of the Disciple exercises was to go to a faith community different from one’s own. I found a Coptic (Egyptian Orthodox) service on Madison Avenue in Albany. I was about five minutes late, but I needn’t have worried, as the service went on for three hours, mostly in Arabic. Afterward, there was a luncheon, and I had this lovely conversation with one young man, in English. When he found out about my Protestant membership, he said most pleasantly, “You DO know you are going to hell, don’t you?”

My departure in 2000 from Trinity UMC wasn’t about a couple of incidents, but rather the fact that the pastor (not Rev. Moore) had goaded the membership into abolishing the Administrative Board and the Council on Ministries. The subsequent system was more “efficient”, in that it was a cabal run mostly by the pastor. Thus, when conflict arose, there was no recourse.

During the discussion about the change three years earlier, one choir member, who had also been a pastor, asked the reasonable question, “Where are the checks and balances?” But “efficiency” won out; efficiency in a church policy structure is highly overrated.

October rambling #1: Thoughts and Prayers App

Ronald McDonald Is Laying Low

trumpish-indianExplaining Progressive Christianity (Otherwise Known as “Christianity”)

He was tortured by the U.S. and held without charge. Suleiman Abdullah Salim is still haunted by the prison he calls “The Darkness”

Misogyny defied: Michelle Obama’s New Hampshire speech (start at 25:00) and Dear Men from Amy Biancolli

Time to Own the Legacies of Others

Five myths about Russia

John Oliver: Police Accountability

Racist Social Media Users Have A New Code To Avoid Censorship

Yes, Preschool Teachers Really Do Treat Black And White Children Totally Differently

Confessions of a former neo-Confederate – Who believes slavery wasn’t really that bad? I did

6 million citizens blocked from voting because of felonies

The ‘Green Book’ Was a Travel Guide Just for Black Motorists, which I wrote about here, plus a PDF of the 1949 iteration

How Evan McMullin Could Win Utah And The Presidency – It’s unlikely, but far from impossible

Robin Williams’ Widow Writes A Devastating Account Of His Final Year

The Ross Perot myth

Thoughts and Prayers App

Elena Ferrante published her books anonymously, but recently, the NY Review of Books published a piece that exposed her true identity. As friend Dan notes: “None of it was relevant; I would go so far as to say it was unnecessary.” One of many critics of the unmasking

950th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings

Bill Warren, R.I.P.

NOT a parody: Ronald McDonald Is Laying Low Until the Clown Craze Is Over

Racer disqualified for using ChapStick?

Professor and student interaction

All Of America’s Science Nobel Prizes This Year Were Won By Immigrants

PBS’ American Experience: Tesla premieres October 18

THE FANTASTIC URSULA K. LE GUIN – The literary mainstream once relegated her work to the margins. Then she transformed the mainstream.

How to memorize scripts, part 1 and part 2

Learning YouTube tricks

Now I Know: Baby, Not Bored

Audrey Munson, the first supermodel

Tank top

Why I Stopped Wanting to Make Serious Art Films and Came to Believe Movies Should Be Fun

Extra Gum ad: The Story of Sarah & Juan

Would you pull a Coke can off the head of a skunk?

Arthur, about me asking about his blogging, or somesuch

Music

Sir Neville Marriner obit and music

Sviatoslav Richter plays Handel keyboard suite in G minor, no.9

1812 Overture

Coverville 1142: 20 fantastic Sting and Police covers

No Man’s Land -Glass Hammer

Sara Rose Wheeler: Soundtrack of my life

K-Chuck Radio: More forgotten 60’s pop music

It’s Too Late To Apologize – New Republic with lyrics

Coverville 1144: 20 Simon & Garfunkel and Paul Simon solo covers for Rhymin’ Simon’s 75th

Duke Ellington – East St. Louis Toodle-Oo

Let’s Have A Party Albany (1986)

Robert Morse sings “I Believe In You”

“Fan” Star Trek Original Series Clip to “Common People” by William Shatner

The World Map of Nobel Prize in Literature, including Bob Dylan

Reggie Harris music

Baptized again

I knew saying “yes” would have been the easier tactic.

baptismContinuing on my theological journey:

After I left NYC, and my sister’s sofa, I spent a few months in the fall of 1977 back in New Paltz on yet another davenport. I was making far too little money tutoring political science students, most of whom were having difficulty because 1) they hadn’t read the books, and 2) because they lacked the fundamental understanding of civics.

Around Christmas, I went to visit and ended up crashing with, my friend Mark and his then-wife Peggy in Schenectady, a city in the Albany metro. Starting in February 1978, I got a job as a teller in the Albany Savings Bank in downtown Albany, where Peggy worked. It was in the very building I work in presently, which now has a Citizens Bank and a Starbucks.

I worked there only a month, before quitting, partly because I really hated the job, and mostly because I got a job at the Schenectady Arts Council as a bookkeeper that I not only enjoyed more but made more money ($8200 v. $6000/year). At the bank, I had more cash in my drawer than I made annually, before taxes.

As I was leaving ASB, I had asked out a coworker, one of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen in person, a mixture of Brazilian, and something else. I hadn’t gone out with ANYONE from mid-1975 through the end of 1977. But being reasonably employed had emboldened me. She never replied in the brief time I was there.

After I got my new job, though, she contacted me and asked me if I wanted to go to church with her. Hmm. Well, she WAS a nice woman, and did I mention she was beautiful?

One early Sunday afternoon in March, I was picked up by some church folks in some vehicle – sardines have more room – and we traveled to a church in Troy, another city in the Albany metro.

Martin Luther King Jr. had talked about Sunday morning being the most segregated time of the week in America. That critique did not apply to this non-denominational (I think) church. It was a LONG service with much talking and LOTS of music, some of it spontaneous, very much in the black church tradition.

At some point, the pastor went around to every person in the congregation and asked if he or she had been saved; he said it more eloquently than that, but that was the gist. And the answer was either “Yes, praise Jesus!” or “Thank you.” Now I had my born-again experience about 15 years earlier, and I had come from a tradition that said, “Once saved, always saved.” Also, I knew saying “yes” would have been the easier tactic.

I said, “thank you.”

After he’d spoken to well over 200 people in the congregation, he called upon the three or four of us to come forward. A bunch of people, including the beautiful woman, lay hands on me, and the others, and said, “GEE-zus.” Actually it more like:

GEEEE-zus!

One of us heathens started blathering something or other, and they whisked him away. Likewise with another one.

Then my lips started moving, saying things I did not initiate, in a language (or gibberish) that I did not understand. “HALLELUJAH!” the congregants all shouted. And they took me downstairs from the sanctuary, gave me essentially a large sheet to change into, I took off my outerwear, put on the sheet, and experienced a full-immersion baptism in a large tub.

I got a ride back to Mark and Peggy’s house, and they said I’d hear from them. But I never did. The next day, a large block of ice smashed the roof of Peggy’s VW bug. Life went on, as though this….thing…hadn’t happened. Whatever it was that happened.

Some years later, I gave a sermonette at the Methodist church I belonged to, and I told this story, probably with less emphasis on the pretty young woman. The message was about follow-through, and calling back or reaching out somehow when folks express interest.

Was I speaking in tongues? Maybe. Possibly. I have no idea. But It’s interesting how little lasting impact it had on my theological development.

And just a few weeks ago, without looking for it, I came across the baptismal certificate.

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