I just finished watching "Bobby". At the conclusion of the film, after Senetor Kennedy is shot, they play his entire speech, "On the Mindless Menace of Violence". It really makes me long for leaders, followers, and people everywhere to have greater visions like this again.
This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.
It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.
Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.
No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.
Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.
"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs."
Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.
Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.
Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.
For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.
This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.
I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.
We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.
Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.
We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.
Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.
But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.
Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Hello, Mr.Allen
I watched my first Woody Allen movie today. I started with "Manhattan", which I now hear is one of his best. I have to say, I really really like it. I mean, it has Diane Keaton in it, so that's always a good place to start with me.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
the getting away
It’s near midnight I believe. As we have no reception out here, (and through the years I have fallen prey to only using my cellphone to tell the time) I’m generally unaware of the hour for a few days. My church’s “getaway” is this weekend and we’re at Camp NaCoMe located near the middle of nowhere. Note: If you’re wondering what NaCoMe means in the respective Native American languate it may be taken from, I regretfully inform you that it is actually just a combination of the three cities that triangulate around the camp: Nashville, Columbia, and Memphis. I know. Dissapointing.)
It takes a lot to get me to things like this nowadays. Namely because I can choose not to, and usually do. When we’re children, we’re generally made to do things that we don’t want to. We may had rather stay up until midnight and eat twinkies, but our parents knew we’d be tired an malnourished…so we didn’t. We don’t have that now, but sometimes I think we need it.
Anyway, the weekend is designed to actually spend time and get to know the people you are in this church community with, talk about what the church is and what it’s doing. There’s a lot of Q & A, and a lot of play time to really just spend time with people. I was a camp couselor for years, but I never really outgrew a general hesitation towards things like this. I feel silly going around and everyone saying their names. As we actually did this this first night here, Cari leaned over and articulated exactly what I was thinking, “this is why I don’t come to stuff like this.” But, I should.
More and more we can live on our own terms and participate or engage when we’d like or is convenient, but generally find a myriad of excuses not to do what we don’t’ want to do. I could have gone to this last year. I was in town. And it’s not a matter of being busy. I’m busy this week. It’s just that I didn’t want to go. There are unknowns (this is a huge one), plus you have to DO things with other people…just generally out of most comfort zones I have.
But, often even if my intentions are askew (which they always prove to be), their continually redeemed. When I go because I think I should or that it’s the “right” thing to do, God trumps my legalism and reveals himself to be who he really is. Kevin said something tonight that, as per usual, articulates it much more directly than I ever could, “We are called to submit ourselves to something greater than what we want at that moment.” Someone earlier in the service had said, “if you feel comfortable, share something that you have to be thankful for” (or something to that extent. Kevin’s response (after clarifying he meant no offense) was that it doesn’t really matter if you feel comfortable. That’s not the goal. If anything, it’s often a hindrance or a sign that I’m not really letting the gospel transform my heart. Without realizing it, I set my course to one chasing after personal satisfaction, independence, stability, happiness, rather than run towards the maker of all these things. I have an idea of what would be good for my life. May God continually dismantle the houses I build for myself and may he, instead, fulfill his promise of lavishing on us more blessings than we con conceive.
It takes a lot to get me to things like this nowadays. Namely because I can choose not to, and usually do. When we’re children, we’re generally made to do things that we don’t want to. We may had rather stay up until midnight and eat twinkies, but our parents knew we’d be tired an malnourished…so we didn’t. We don’t have that now, but sometimes I think we need it.
Anyway, the weekend is designed to actually spend time and get to know the people you are in this church community with, talk about what the church is and what it’s doing. There’s a lot of Q & A, and a lot of play time to really just spend time with people. I was a camp couselor for years, but I never really outgrew a general hesitation towards things like this. I feel silly going around and everyone saying their names. As we actually did this this first night here, Cari leaned over and articulated exactly what I was thinking, “this is why I don’t come to stuff like this.” But, I should.
More and more we can live on our own terms and participate or engage when we’d like or is convenient, but generally find a myriad of excuses not to do what we don’t’ want to do. I could have gone to this last year. I was in town. And it’s not a matter of being busy. I’m busy this week. It’s just that I didn’t want to go. There are unknowns (this is a huge one), plus you have to DO things with other people…just generally out of most comfort zones I have.
But, often even if my intentions are askew (which they always prove to be), their continually redeemed. When I go because I think I should or that it’s the “right” thing to do, God trumps my legalism and reveals himself to be who he really is. Kevin said something tonight that, as per usual, articulates it much more directly than I ever could, “We are called to submit ourselves to something greater than what we want at that moment.” Someone earlier in the service had said, “if you feel comfortable, share something that you have to be thankful for” (or something to that extent. Kevin’s response (after clarifying he meant no offense) was that it doesn’t really matter if you feel comfortable. That’s not the goal. If anything, it’s often a hindrance or a sign that I’m not really letting the gospel transform my heart. Without realizing it, I set my course to one chasing after personal satisfaction, independence, stability, happiness, rather than run towards the maker of all these things. I have an idea of what would be good for my life. May God continually dismantle the houses I build for myself and may he, instead, fulfill his promise of lavishing on us more blessings than we con conceive.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
the important tax report...
Jordan's Tax Report:
Taxes blow.
In other news, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers are crazy good. Mike Campbell. Mmmm.
back to taxes.
(if you drive a car, car;) - I’ll tax the street;
(if you try to sit, sit;) - I’ll tax your seat;
(if you get too cold, cold;) - I’ll tax the heat;
(if you take a walk, walk;) - I'll tax your feet.
Taxes blow.
In other news, Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers are crazy good. Mike Campbell. Mmmm.
back to taxes.
(if you drive a car, car;) - I’ll tax the street;
(if you try to sit, sit;) - I’ll tax your seat;
(if you get too cold, cold;) - I’ll tax the heat;
(if you take a walk, walk;) - I'll tax your feet.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
i love you, compy
so, i got a mac book yesterday. well, it arrived yesterday. i have to say, i'm oh so totally excited about it. i'm working hella-faster than i ever thought was possible, but secretly dreamed someday i could. my two thoughts on this afternoon are:
1. do i really need a remote for my computer? i mean, i'm sitting there using it, aren't i?
2. how freakin cool do i feel that i have a remote for my computer??
1. do i really need a remote for my computer? i mean, i'm sitting there using it, aren't i?
2. how freakin cool do i feel that i have a remote for my computer??
Friday, March 16, 2007
life on this day
another too late night of working. Surely there's a break coming up soon. after starting the work day at 6:30, 1am feels a little later than it used to. I actually had the thought tonight, "I'm getting too old for this". I'm not sure if it was the exhaustion or if that's true, but it feels like a little of both on this night. It's been a roller coaster month, week, day. the highs were glorious and lofty and the lows were at sedimentary levels.
One such lofty day was tracking on Steve's new record. We needed to get a little group together for some good ole group bgv's and it just turned out to be the perfect combination of people for some reason. Judd & Maggie, me, Ryan Greenawalt and an alternating wing men/women/persons of Jeremy Casella and Mandy Mann. The stuff they had for us to sing was just great and we really went crazy with it. very theatrical, but in the best of ways. we all just walked away (obviously STILL) talking about how much fun it was and how excited we all were about people making good records again... making the record that is in them, whether it's 3min and 30 seconds with a target market or not. ..and probably not. That's just where the good stuff is, i think. Make the record you're meant to make...whatever it is that's in you, drag it out and work on it. It makes me think of that story Jonatha Brooke once told in an interview about the 4 min outro with that amazing piano solo on "Inconsolable". The powers that be told her it had to go if she ever wanted them to get behind a single. she thought about it, and eventually thought to herself, "like i'm ever going to have an f-ing single." She just remembered who she was and what she was doing and kept the solo. It is incidentally maybe my favorite Jonatha Brooke song and would be less so without that outro. I'm just sayin.
On the way back from picking up our newly screened screens (mmmm), Patty Griffin's song, "Christina" (that she wrote about Christina O'nasis) came on. I went to change it, then I heard my favorite line of the song, which happens to be the first one. That doesn't happen very often, it seems. Anyway... here's a song for the evening...
If you had the real thing how would you tell
Liars can say it all just as well
Every single word you've heard in vain
Baubles of gold, stars in your hair
Reflections that told that they were not there
And the diamonds on your cheeks have turned to flames
And up in the air they would write your name there
But love would fall to pieces in the rain
Who would know better than you
A hundred love letters and none of them true
Christina, Christina
It's a wondrous world of ridiculous things
With nothing so rare as the love that it brings
In the silence of a smile that understands
A piece of the action, pieces of gold
Everyone's paid well and does what they're told
For the simple daughter of a simple man
And up in the air they would write your name there
Their love will fall to pieces in the rain
Who would know better than you
A hundred love letters and none of them true
One such lofty day was tracking on Steve's new record. We needed to get a little group together for some good ole group bgv's and it just turned out to be the perfect combination of people for some reason. Judd & Maggie, me, Ryan Greenawalt and an alternating wing men/women/persons of Jeremy Casella and Mandy Mann. The stuff they had for us to sing was just great and we really went crazy with it. very theatrical, but in the best of ways. we all just walked away (obviously STILL) talking about how much fun it was and how excited we all were about people making good records again... making the record that is in them, whether it's 3min and 30 seconds with a target market or not. ..and probably not. That's just where the good stuff is, i think. Make the record you're meant to make...whatever it is that's in you, drag it out and work on it. It makes me think of that story Jonatha Brooke once told in an interview about the 4 min outro with that amazing piano solo on "Inconsolable". The powers that be told her it had to go if she ever wanted them to get behind a single. she thought about it, and eventually thought to herself, "like i'm ever going to have an f-ing single." She just remembered who she was and what she was doing and kept the solo. It is incidentally maybe my favorite Jonatha Brooke song and would be less so without that outro. I'm just sayin.
On the way back from picking up our newly screened screens (mmmm), Patty Griffin's song, "Christina" (that she wrote about Christina O'nasis) came on. I went to change it, then I heard my favorite line of the song, which happens to be the first one. That doesn't happen very often, it seems. Anyway... here's a song for the evening...
If you had the real thing how would you tell
Liars can say it all just as well
Every single word you've heard in vain
Baubles of gold, stars in your hair
Reflections that told that they were not there
And the diamonds on your cheeks have turned to flames
And up in the air they would write your name there
But love would fall to pieces in the rain
Who would know better than you
A hundred love letters and none of them true
Christina, Christina
It's a wondrous world of ridiculous things
With nothing so rare as the love that it brings
In the silence of a smile that understands
A piece of the action, pieces of gold
Everyone's paid well and does what they're told
For the simple daughter of a simple man
And up in the air they would write your name there
Their love will fall to pieces in the rain
Who would know better than you
A hundred love letters and none of them true
Saturday, February 24, 2007
No, you can't hide from the turning of the tide.
After a long day of working, then working on the garage a lot, I went to my friend Julia Patton's wedding. Running on fumes, I barely made it on time. I walked in just as they were seating the grandmothers. classy. It was a very traditional, formal and beautiful wedding at Scaritt Bennet. (or as anyone who has had to shoot a wedding in this gorgeous, but very dark chapel calls it...Scary Bennet.) Alice came in just a bit after me, and we held down the back-ish row with the other tardy guests. There was a moment of pause just as the wedding party had finished their procession. The doors closed...and we waited. Just when you begin to wonder, the doors flew open and a bagpiper began sounding the procession. I was so overwhelmed with the moment. He was heralding the bride's arrival...his playing was impossible to ignore; engulfing even. But it wasn't the point. Just then, Julia walked in, looking beautiful and teary.
As one who has shot approximately 47 more weddings than I ever thought I would, I've thought a lot about the matter. But, as with music, it changes when it's your work. After being around only musicians playing or talking about only music for an extended period of time, sometimes talking to someone about growing squash (or something equally as "normal") is refreshing. All this to say, I often think it odd when I'm shooting (or more often assisting) someone's wedding whom I have never met, how I'm regaurding thier wedding day. I may wake up a little late, throw on some compfy clothes that are often just dressy enough to not feel socially inappropriate. Shoot the wedding, be polite, hopefully eat some good food (because by this point you're starving), and call it a night. In the right months, you could be doing this a every weekend, often multiple times in a weekend if business is good. At almost every wedding, at some point I stop and think, "this is one of the most important days in this person's life", and wonder if I shouldn't revere that more.
Tonight I was not with out reverence. After the many many weddings that I've been to/in that Kevin Twit has pastored, I know a great deal of Kevin's wedding sermon. You would think I would have put some of that wisdom to use by now. But as Martin Luther knew before I...I needed to hear it again...because I live as though I've forgotten it.
After the reception, I went to my friend and former bandmate, Jason Harris' going away party. Jason's moving to Bloomington, IN to "see about a girl". Some of my favorite memories in this life thus far have included Jason and I'm going to miss him, but here's hoping for many more of those memories yet to come. I feel like I'm making a toast or something. ;)
Well, I'm getting sleepy. Consider this my Shabbat . (Subnote: Marva Dawn changed the way I think about the Sabbath. I don't always keep it with the dilligence I should, but now I love Sunday, and look forward to it like Christmas. Even more so when I'm so busy. You can feel the purpose of the day in all it's richness. sigh. I can't wait.)
I shall leave you with some pictures Rachel took of The Analogue Trust's first two completed shirt orders. (oh. yeah. LT and I started a print company for screenprinting tshirts and posters for those musician type friends in town. we call it 'The Analogue Trust') Good times. More to come.
As one who has shot approximately 47 more weddings than I ever thought I would, I've thought a lot about the matter. But, as with music, it changes when it's your work. After being around only musicians playing or talking about only music for an extended period of time, sometimes talking to someone about growing squash (or something equally as "normal") is refreshing. All this to say, I often think it odd when I'm shooting (or more often assisting) someone's wedding whom I have never met, how I'm regaurding thier wedding day. I may wake up a little late, throw on some compfy clothes that are often just dressy enough to not feel socially inappropriate. Shoot the wedding, be polite, hopefully eat some good food (because by this point you're starving), and call it a night. In the right months, you could be doing this a every weekend, often multiple times in a weekend if business is good. At almost every wedding, at some point I stop and think, "this is one of the most important days in this person's life", and wonder if I shouldn't revere that more.
Tonight I was not with out reverence. After the many many weddings that I've been to/in that Kevin Twit has pastored, I know a great deal of Kevin's wedding sermon. You would think I would have put some of that wisdom to use by now. But as Martin Luther knew before I...I needed to hear it again...because I live as though I've forgotten it.
After the reception, I went to my friend and former bandmate, Jason Harris' going away party. Jason's moving to Bloomington, IN to "see about a girl". Some of my favorite memories in this life thus far have included Jason and I'm going to miss him, but here's hoping for many more of those memories yet to come. I feel like I'm making a toast or something. ;)
Well, I'm getting sleepy. Consider this my Shabbat . (Subnote: Marva Dawn changed the way I think about the Sabbath. I don't always keep it with the dilligence I should, but now I love Sunday, and look forward to it like Christmas. Even more so when I'm so busy. You can feel the purpose of the day in all it's richness. sigh. I can't wait.)
I shall leave you with some pictures Rachel took of The Analogue Trust's first two completed shirt orders. (oh. yeah. LT and I started a print company for screenprinting tshirts and posters for those musician type friends in town. we call it 'The Analogue Trust') Good times. More to come.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Caught between the longing for love and the struggle for the legal tender.
Well, I've officially entered a new season....having nothing to do with the snow currently falling outside my window. Starting around December, things on the work front began to hit a slow spell. After turning down a 9 to 5 job right before Christmas, I mentally overcompensated and went into crazy mode wanting to connect with projects i believed in (or at least avoid the ones i feel generally led to rally against no matter how tempting their salary and/or insurance looks). Well, I guess I'm making up for lost time now. The last 3 or 4 nights have yielded time for about 4 hours of sleep per night.
At some point in my childhood, I remember a teacher commenting on my always being busy, and telling me that her students that were most busy stayed the most on top of their school work. That somehow when these students knew they had no other way to get everything done than to always stay on task and focused, they actually got their tasks accomplished. On the other hand, students who had a great deal of time on their hands, generally procrastinated because they knew they'd have time to do it later. This often resulted in them procrastinating their way through all their their free time until the project's due date was upon them and they were screwed. you know... classic ant & grasshopper tale. This is the story of my life. I'm the anthopper.
I'm starting to remember the downside of that. Yeah, the ant had food and whatnot, but probably no friends, no patience and a diminished appreciation for the best things in life. At least that's my hunch based on the experiment currently in progress.
After much debate, i finally decided to a take a break last night and watch Grey's Anatomy with Butterfly, Heidi, LT, Dawson & Bob. Butterfly's song "Bitter Song" was featured in the episode and it was so fun to watch with everyone there. I even found some red fabric and made a red carpet leading to the door. It's a great song and I'm glad many peoples heard it....even though they should be able to hear the whole freakin record by now. aaaanyway.
It's 5am and LT and I are just now finishing the new shirts for MPJ. I'm not even sure what I'm typing anymore. But I know this... I love "The Pretender" by Jackson Browne. I could listen to it at all times. It's a song that borders on perfection.
night, kids.
"The Pretender" - j. browne
Im going to rent myself a house
In the shade of the freeway
Im going to pack my lunch in the morning
And go to work each day
And when the evening rolls around
Ill go on home and lay my body down
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Ill get up and do it again
Amen
Say it again
Amen
I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening
Ive been aware of the time going by
They say in the end its the wink of an eye
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Youll get up and do it again
Amen
Caught between the longing for love
And the struggle for the legal tender
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender
Where the veterans dream of the fight
Fast asleep at the traffic light
And the children solemnly wait
For the ice cream vendor
Out into the cool of the evening
Strolls the pretender
He knows that all his hopes and dreams
Begin and end there
Ah the laughter of the lovers
As they run through the night
Leaving nothing for the others
But to choose off and fight
And tear at the world with all their might
While the ships bearing their dreams
Sail out of sight
Im going to find myself a girl
Who can show me what laughter means
And well fill in the missing colors
In each others paint-by-number dreams
And then well put out dark glasses on
And well make love until our strength is gone
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Well get up and do it again
Get it up again
Im going to be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
Thought true love could have been a contender
Are you there?
Say a prayer for the pretender
Who started out so young and strong
Only to surrender
At some point in my childhood, I remember a teacher commenting on my always being busy, and telling me that her students that were most busy stayed the most on top of their school work. That somehow when these students knew they had no other way to get everything done than to always stay on task and focused, they actually got their tasks accomplished. On the other hand, students who had a great deal of time on their hands, generally procrastinated because they knew they'd have time to do it later. This often resulted in them procrastinating their way through all their their free time until the project's due date was upon them and they were screwed. you know... classic ant & grasshopper tale. This is the story of my life. I'm the anthopper.
I'm starting to remember the downside of that. Yeah, the ant had food and whatnot, but probably no friends, no patience and a diminished appreciation for the best things in life. At least that's my hunch based on the experiment currently in progress.
After much debate, i finally decided to a take a break last night and watch Grey's Anatomy with Butterfly, Heidi, LT, Dawson & Bob. Butterfly's song "Bitter Song" was featured in the episode and it was so fun to watch with everyone there. I even found some red fabric and made a red carpet leading to the door. It's a great song and I'm glad many peoples heard it....even though they should be able to hear the whole freakin record by now. aaaanyway.
It's 5am and LT and I are just now finishing the new shirts for MPJ. I'm not even sure what I'm typing anymore. But I know this... I love "The Pretender" by Jackson Browne. I could listen to it at all times. It's a song that borders on perfection.
night, kids.
"The Pretender" - j. browne
Im going to rent myself a house
In the shade of the freeway
Im going to pack my lunch in the morning
And go to work each day
And when the evening rolls around
Ill go on home and lay my body down
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Ill get up and do it again
Amen
Say it again
Amen
I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening
Ive been aware of the time going by
They say in the end its the wink of an eye
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Youll get up and do it again
Amen
Caught between the longing for love
And the struggle for the legal tender
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender
Where the veterans dream of the fight
Fast asleep at the traffic light
And the children solemnly wait
For the ice cream vendor
Out into the cool of the evening
Strolls the pretender
He knows that all his hopes and dreams
Begin and end there
Ah the laughter of the lovers
As they run through the night
Leaving nothing for the others
But to choose off and fight
And tear at the world with all their might
While the ships bearing their dreams
Sail out of sight
Im going to find myself a girl
Who can show me what laughter means
And well fill in the missing colors
In each others paint-by-number dreams
And then well put out dark glasses on
And well make love until our strength is gone
And when the morning light comes streaming in
Well get up and do it again
Get it up again
Im going to be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
Thought true love could have been a contender
Are you there?
Say a prayer for the pretender
Who started out so young and strong
Only to surrender
Thursday, January 25, 2007
sgt. cold toes.
sweet moses it's cold. I'm currently bundled up in a very sweet, but very drafty hotel in Decatur, GA. The show tonight at Eddie's Attic was a fun one, as always. Man, I love that place. I really wasn't sure about Scott Miller at first, but now I'm growing to really really like him and his songs. It's just he and his road manager and Al.
Turning in pretty early. Life is crazy with a pregnant woman in tow. In a totally sober, frequently napping sort of crazy way. :)
Turning in pretty early. Life is crazy with a pregnant woman in tow. In a totally sober, frequently napping sort of crazy way. :)
Friday, January 19, 2007
where the city in october looks like fire...
Just got back from chattanooga where Sandra played at Rhythm & Brews tonight. It was a smokey room, but a really cool taproom. We're staying at my friend Whit's childhood home. His parents are wonderful and have been so hospitable and kind. Not to mention the huge bonus of seeing the pictures of Whit as a 5 year old modeling child's fashions in the newspaper. Sooooo worth the trip.
Monday, January 15, 2007
a wrinkle in mind.
I started getting sick last night. I laid down feeling achy and exhausted after a loooong day of running junk up from the basement to the attic all day. After not being able to sleep and starting to feel sicker, I got up and drank the rest of the NyQuil. Somewhere in my drugged waking/sleeping, I conjured up an idea for a new toy. In the dreamstate, I think I had just had them manufactured, but alas, this morning they are only existant in my imagination. I had created little army men... you know... for kids. Only, instead of army men, they were famous figures of non-violence. We placed them carefully in lines, facing each other. Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Mother Theresa stood face to face with and Rosa Parks. Needless to say, nothing much happened. And I enjoyed this for hours. http://www2.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif
I picked up Derek from the airport yesterday, fresh in from speaking and playing at the Veritas Forum. Upon his suggestion, I went searching today for the talks from the event. Apparently not posted yet, I began digging through the archives and found a couple of talks from Madeleine L'engle.
I'm listening now to her writer's workshop on searching for truth through fantasy. She has done (and continues to do) such an amazing job of letting truth spread wide into the vastness it must have to exist. She understands, perhaps, the same idea C.S. Lewis had when he wrote of the gods in "Until We Have Faces", "whatever can be said clearly about them cannont be said truly".
Some of the more resonant quotes thus far:
"Nothing happens in isolation. Everything effects everything else. You can never say, "It's my own business". It's the business of the entire cosmos. The scientists have discovered that nothing can be said objectively, because to look at something is to change it and be changed by it." And so it is. With science and with the difficult task of loving one another.
"When you write, don't think. Write."
And in honor of Martin Luther King day... one last quote from Dr. King.
"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."
I picked up Derek from the airport yesterday, fresh in from speaking and playing at the Veritas Forum. Upon his suggestion, I went searching today for the talks from the event. Apparently not posted yet, I began digging through the archives and found a couple of talks from Madeleine L'engle.
I'm listening now to her writer's workshop on searching for truth through fantasy. She has done (and continues to do) such an amazing job of letting truth spread wide into the vastness it must have to exist. She understands, perhaps, the same idea C.S. Lewis had when he wrote of the gods in "Until We Have Faces", "whatever can be said clearly about them cannont be said truly".
Some of the more resonant quotes thus far:
"Nothing happens in isolation. Everything effects everything else. You can never say, "It's my own business". It's the business of the entire cosmos. The scientists have discovered that nothing can be said objectively, because to look at something is to change it and be changed by it." And so it is. With science and with the difficult task of loving one another.
"When you write, don't think. Write."
And in honor of Martin Luther King day... one last quote from Dr. King.
"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."
Monday, January 08, 2007
you ought to be with me
01.06.07.... watched high fidelity
01.07.07.... took up mission to get some bitchin vinyl
.... mission accomplished.
01.08.07.... emailed parental units requesting permission to reclaim thier entire vinyl collection this weekend.
..... listened to the beatles, iron & wine, joni mitchell, blood, sweat & tears, and (currently) al green records.
..... damn. if anyone can make you lovesick, it's al green.
01.07.07.... took up mission to get some bitchin vinyl
.... mission accomplished.
01.08.07.... emailed parental units requesting permission to reclaim thier entire vinyl collection this weekend.
..... listened to the beatles, iron & wine, joni mitchell, blood, sweat & tears, and (currently) al green records.
..... damn. if anyone can make you lovesick, it's al green.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Dancing... Dancing.. YEAH! She's a dancing machine.
So, my friends David and Natalie are moving to New York. Tonight, a party was thrown to "send them off". It started enjoyably enough. Great food. Great drink (Homeade Sangria). Everyone chatting. I arrived fashionably late at about 8:45pm. Now, back at my own homestead, i see it is now 2:55am. The moral of the evening: Dancing brings the world together. Both Natalie and David have mean dancing streaks in them. So, as the partygoers thinned, the few that stood the test of time were handsomely rewarded with the blessing of the dance party. Around 10 or 11, Nat busted out the dance mix she had prepared on her ipod. It was a mix so totally bitching that I literally took notes on a postcard to download those songs when i got home. As my throbbing feet and calves (yes. i kept the high heels on through the whole dance party.) clearly understand, I've been dancing...and i mean DANCING for about 4 hours. At one point, about 8 or 10 women and usually about 1 guy (this was almost always David or Dawson) were giving their all on that floor. We even went Soul Train style for 3 or 4 songs; coining such dances as "The Blazer", "The Cowboy", a few indescribable moves Butterfly pulled out and "The Scarf". After cutting a rug with the same group for 4 hours, you have a certain unspoken bond. Strangers become friends on the dance floor, folks. It's true. I loved that at the end of the dance marathon, I introduced myself (or was introduced to) at least half of the same people I had been sweating to the oldies with for the entire night.
To hell with introductions. We have dancing shoes.
To hell with introductions. We have dancing shoes.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
I'm "into" books.
I’ve been listening to a book on tape. I’m normally not a fan. I just love reading books and lose a great deal when I listen to them read over an extended period of time. I lose track of where I am, get thinking about other things. I just don’t daydream as much if I’m looking at words on a page. ANYWAY. My mother is in a book club. It mainly consists of English profs at Murray State, Librarians and a few teachers. I tagged along in high school with my mom and would always really look forward to the meetings. They always have a Christmas meeting and usually at our house in Kentucky. I’ve had the great fortune of being home for these meetings two years in a row. On the drive home today, I had planned my listening schedule so that I would finish the book just as I exited off of I-24. I was thoroughly engrossed in the book, (which I just realized I’ve yet to reveal…. It’s called “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter”) and indeed finished just in time before the book club arrived to the house. However, during pre-dinner banter, I realized that I had not, as I previously thought, finshed the book at all. Rather, there were 9 discs instead of the 5 I had once thought. Something for the trip home, I suppose.
I’m actually reading two other books right now as well. I’ve never done this (excluding being forced to read at an exorbant pace in college). But, I’m listening to Barbara Kingsolver’s “The Bean Trees” and reading Wendell Berry’s “Hannah Coulter”. Wow. Three Kentucky authors. Three pieces of fiction. So much for the spice of life.
I’m actually reading two other books right now as well. I’ve never done this (excluding being forced to read at an exorbant pace in college). But, I’m listening to Barbara Kingsolver’s “The Bean Trees” and reading Wendell Berry’s “Hannah Coulter”. Wow. Three Kentucky authors. Three pieces of fiction. So much for the spice of life.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
the clarinet goes dood lee dood lee dood lee dood lee det.
If anybody's wondering what to get me for Christmas.... here's a start....
Friday, November 17, 2006
Tell me honey, what is it we do?
Bush is giving a press conference on TV as I type. I can't help but be reminded of Jonatha Brooke's "Christmas wish list" I read today that she did for Blender.com
So, I had to make a call today. A kind of important call...as calls that I make go. So, I prepped. I made sure I had all my notes there, a working pen and notebook, I used my Nettie Pot so I could get the passages open and get the most direct path for oxygen to the brain going. I made sure the phone was charged, pulled up relevant emails and websites to have in front of me and I was ready. I made the call. As with most things, it wasn't that big of a deal and more went into worrying/prepping than the actual conversation. But halfway through the conversation I looked down and thought, "I wonder if this guy realizes that I'm in pajamas with blue moose on them...or what he would think if he did have such information." Ah the habits of the self-employed. As I hung up the phone, the thought occurred to me that through the entire conversation, I was using the business voice. You know, a little too quick to the nervous laugh, overly cheery and above all, the moderately obnoxious over-annunciation. But as soon as I got off the phone, I thought how I wish I spoke like that a bit more to my friends on the phone. I mumble. I know it. As soon as I get off the phone with a few people in particular, I have that "I left the stove on" moment of remembering..."Shit. I forgot not to mumble!". One day. Don't give up hope, friends.
Speaking of being self-employed, I had a shoot with David Phelps and his band today at a rehearsal space here in town called Soundcheck. (I'll post some on the flickr site tomorrow) I got there on time which means I got to hear 3-4 songs as they were running late. (who would have guessed?) But, it was a fun time all around. Everyone was very kind and the actual taking of the pictures went fairly flawlessly, but you never know if it's what they want. Especially when there are many many parties to please. When I first pulled up today, an older gentleman who was pulling out of the space near the door rolled down his window and asked, "What are their names?" I realized then that he had seen me pull in with Levi & Scout in the backseat. We talked about dogs for a minute and he reaches into his glove box and extracts two large bones he explains that he regularly gets from a local BBQ joint and would like to give these two specimens to my pups. It was very sweet, but I then realize I'm walking into Soundcheck with two big ham bones. I shoved them in my purse and kept trucking.
There's something about tours like that coming together where a lot of the crew doesn't know each other that everyone feels the need to tell stories. It's very funny and usually entertaining. One of today's gems was told by a boisterous Brit who explained how his (insert generic relative here) was once in a Christmas pageant playing the Inn keeper. When Mary and Joseph approached the Inn keeper and asked if they might have room for them in the Inn. Silence. No response. Joseph asks again, "I'm Joseph. This is my wife Mary. She's with child and in need of a room. Would you have room for us?" Still, the Inn Keeper did not respond and finally mumbled under his breath, "I can't remember my line." Joseph finally mumbled back, "Just say something!". So, in a loud voice, the Inn Keeper proclaims, "Sure! We've got tons of room! Come on in!" bah dum dum.
Currently Listening to:
Lovers Electric - "Lovers Electric" -
This is my friend Butterfly's sister and brother-in-law's (David & Eden) band. I can't stop listening to their record and listen to the single, "Honey" more than is normal. Check out the totally sweet video here.
So, I had to make a call today. A kind of important call...as calls that I make go. So, I prepped. I made sure I had all my notes there, a working pen and notebook, I used my Nettie Pot so I could get the passages open and get the most direct path for oxygen to the brain going. I made sure the phone was charged, pulled up relevant emails and websites to have in front of me and I was ready. I made the call. As with most things, it wasn't that big of a deal and more went into worrying/prepping than the actual conversation. But halfway through the conversation I looked down and thought, "I wonder if this guy realizes that I'm in pajamas with blue moose on them...or what he would think if he did have such information." Ah the habits of the self-employed. As I hung up the phone, the thought occurred to me that through the entire conversation, I was using the business voice. You know, a little too quick to the nervous laugh, overly cheery and above all, the moderately obnoxious over-annunciation. But as soon as I got off the phone, I thought how I wish I spoke like that a bit more to my friends on the phone. I mumble. I know it. As soon as I get off the phone with a few people in particular, I have that "I left the stove on" moment of remembering..."Shit. I forgot not to mumble!". One day. Don't give up hope, friends.
Speaking of being self-employed, I had a shoot with David Phelps and his band today at a rehearsal space here in town called Soundcheck. (I'll post some on the flickr site tomorrow) I got there on time which means I got to hear 3-4 songs as they were running late. (who would have guessed?) But, it was a fun time all around. Everyone was very kind and the actual taking of the pictures went fairly flawlessly, but you never know if it's what they want. Especially when there are many many parties to please. When I first pulled up today, an older gentleman who was pulling out of the space near the door rolled down his window and asked, "What are their names?" I realized then that he had seen me pull in with Levi & Scout in the backseat. We talked about dogs for a minute and he reaches into his glove box and extracts two large bones he explains that he regularly gets from a local BBQ joint and would like to give these two specimens to my pups. It was very sweet, but I then realize I'm walking into Soundcheck with two big ham bones. I shoved them in my purse and kept trucking.
There's something about tours like that coming together where a lot of the crew doesn't know each other that everyone feels the need to tell stories. It's very funny and usually entertaining. One of today's gems was told by a boisterous Brit who explained how his (insert generic relative here) was once in a Christmas pageant playing the Inn keeper. When Mary and Joseph approached the Inn keeper and asked if they might have room for them in the Inn. Silence. No response. Joseph asks again, "I'm Joseph. This is my wife Mary. She's with child and in need of a room. Would you have room for us?" Still, the Inn Keeper did not respond and finally mumbled under his breath, "I can't remember my line." Joseph finally mumbled back, "Just say something!". So, in a loud voice, the Inn Keeper proclaims, "Sure! We've got tons of room! Come on in!" bah dum dum.
Currently Listening to:
Lovers Electric - "Lovers Electric" -
This is my friend Butterfly's sister and brother-in-law's (David & Eden) band. I can't stop listening to their record and listen to the single, "Honey" more than is normal. Check out the totally sweet video here.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
crisp autumn day. leaves are in full turn and it's gorgeous to watch. slept in a bit after the scary movie marathon with bob and peter last night. We watched the beginning of Hostel until Bob asked that we...not. Oh, those squeemish boys. I did forget how vulgar the beginning of that movie is, though. sheesh. grabbed some thai with derek then went to see judd & maggie at 12th and Porter with Andy Davis and Peter Bradley Adams. I really enjoyed J&M's set. Sometimes I forget what people do for a living...especially friends who play music for a living b/c I don't often get to see them at work. But every time I do it's almost always wonderful and complex.
if i keep saving drafts of blogs hoping to finish them, i'll never blog.
if i keep saving drafts of blogs hoping to finish them, i'll never blog.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
thoughts on this day
I usually buy a book of poetry of some sort when I travel. This trip has yielded six thus far, but four were from goodwill. I'm taking a gimme.
I finally finished "Tell We Have Faces". It was beautiful. I'm still soaking in it. The next day, I began my first attempt at Proust; "A Remembrance of Things Past: Swan's Way" to be specific. On a break, thumbing through my new poetry collection, I read "A Bookmark" by Tom Disch. He writes, "Four years ago, I started reading Proust. Although I'm past the halfway point, I still have seven hundred pages of reduced type left before I reach the end...Four years ago, by God! - and even then how I was looking forward to the day I would be able to forgive, at last, and to forget "Remembrance of Things Past." Hmm. This may be a sign.
I love traveling and long to do it more often. I love being able to schluff obligations and deadlines and... everything. Even if just for the afternoon...just for a week. We need breaks. Even from things we love. Should an independently wealthy investor want to fund my...how you say....life studies. I should keep a house in Nashville and another in Ireland. Or Scotland.... for many reasons. ...and because there's always the anticipation of the change, the chance that what is wrong is the result of where you are.
I finally finished "Tell We Have Faces". It was beautiful. I'm still soaking in it. The next day, I began my first attempt at Proust; "A Remembrance of Things Past: Swan's Way" to be specific. On a break, thumbing through my new poetry collection, I read "A Bookmark" by Tom Disch. He writes, "Four years ago, I started reading Proust. Although I'm past the halfway point, I still have seven hundred pages of reduced type left before I reach the end...Four years ago, by God! - and even then how I was looking forward to the day I would be able to forgive, at last, and to forget "Remembrance of Things Past." Hmm. This may be a sign.
I love traveling and long to do it more often. I love being able to schluff obligations and deadlines and... everything. Even if just for the afternoon...just for a week. We need breaks. Even from things we love. Should an independently wealthy investor want to fund my...how you say....life studies. I should keep a house in Nashville and another in Ireland. Or Scotland.... for many reasons. ...and because there's always the anticipation of the change, the chance that what is wrong is the result of where you are.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
just like him
Thursday night before the Indigo Girls show at the Ryman, Derek and I waited out front talking a bit with Mary Gauthier about the Sufjan Stevens show we'd seen just a week or so before. She quickly and adamantly said she couldn't accept... or "get" Sufan's song "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." Suggesting Stevens just went too far. And I totally get that. In a moment of moxie, I said that while I can completely see the irreverence of it, it's the last stanza that makes the story worth the telling. Tonight I remember why. I read a little wikipedia on John Wayne Gacy and might just have nightmares about clowns tonight. They were not previously a phobia, but that may have just changed. Gacy did some heinous things to over 30 boys whom he later buried under his house or threw in the river when he ran out of room there.
Sufjan tells his story this way:
His father was a drinker
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God
Are you one of them?
He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth
And then there's the final stanza.....
And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid
I understand that it's hard to believe we are capable of such horrible things, but I think to be able to say "I would never be capable of anything like that", brings with it ideas of labeling certain people(s) "bad". This necessarily means that you must be "good" or have within you enough good to be able to control or overcome the bad. ...In my experience, my ability to control such...um...how you say... sucks.
All I know is, I have a hard, hard heart. I can so easily betray what I know to be true for irrational reactions in anger, fear or hurt. Cold is my warmest thought.
I love so poorly.
....and yet God is a God committed relentlessly loving his rebel children.
love,
jordan
"Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness." - c.s. lewis
Sufjan tells his story this way:
His father was a drinker
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God
Are you one of them?
He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took of all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth
And then there's the final stanza.....
And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid
I understand that it's hard to believe we are capable of such horrible things, but I think to be able to say "I would never be capable of anything like that", brings with it ideas of labeling certain people(s) "bad". This necessarily means that you must be "good" or have within you enough good to be able to control or overcome the bad. ...In my experience, my ability to control such...um...how you say... sucks.
All I know is, I have a hard, hard heart. I can so easily betray what I know to be true for irrational reactions in anger, fear or hurt. Cold is my warmest thought.
I love so poorly.
....and yet God is a God committed relentlessly loving his rebel children.
love,
jordan
"Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness." - c.s. lewis
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
