In memory of his death 25 years ago today, the title/lyric comes from a John Lennon song called Remember off his first solo album. Click the title to visit his official website.
Here is a list of the Greenbay Packers Injured Team members:
Green Bay Packers
Injuries
B. Franks TE Doubtful Neck/Back
N. Diggs LB Questionable Knees
R. Thomas LB Questionable Quadricep
C. Williams DT Questionable Calf
B. Favre QB Probable Right Hand/Right Forearm
G. Jackson DT Probable Hip
M. Tauscher T Probable Foot
Here is a list of the Packers who are out for the season. Notice the bulk of offensive weapons (starters and backups) and secondary on the list.
T. Franz S IR Shoulder Starter
J. Harris RB IR Right knee #3 Running Back
J. Walker WR IR Ankle #1 Reciever
T. Murphy WR IR Neck #3 Reciever
N. Davenport RB IR Broken right ankle #2 Running Back
A. Green RB IR Knee #1 Running Back
E. Little S IR Hamstring Starter
W. Williams RB IR Hamstring #4 Running Back
J. Horton CB IR Sprained shoulder Starter
J. Thornburg S IR Separated shoulder Starter
R. Lee RB IR Ribs (Never heard of him, but he's a running back)
The Packers have scored 239 points this season.
The Packers opponents have scored 242 points this season.
The Pack has lost by 3 points or less 5 times this season and by 7 or less 7 times. They have had a chance to win every game except two, opening weekend to Detroit and against Pittsburgh.
They have a legitimate shot to win by a touchdown or more the next two weeks (Detroit and Baltimore) and probably won't get beat by much the last two weeks as Chicago doesn't have an offense and Seattle will be resting theirs. Its probable then that they will finish the season having outscored their opponents.
They will have done this largely as a team made up of no-names, practice squad call-ups, and second, third, and fourth stringers. The only pillar to their once palpable offense remains Brett Favre at QB, he has one real reciever and a running back who couldn't make any NFL team the last three years who is simply playing with heart and guts.
I get sick of people trashing Favre, saying he should retire. Did he throw two bad interceptions last week against Chicago? Yes!!! And they cost us the game, but why do you think we were even in it? While CBS showed the Colts game and Peyton Manning(a Superbowl virgin with a history of choking, a propensity to whine, and the greatest collection of offensive talent ever assembled around him) Fox was carrying the Bears-Packers game. It was an ugly game, mostly an excersise in the Bears defense's ability to stop the Packers, and their offense's ability to not screw up and kick a couple field goals. There was a play that reminded me why I became a Packer fan in the first place. (I am a recovering Cowboys bandwagon rider from the early nineties. It's been twelve years since my last cheer.) With a 2-9 record, behind against the division leader, with nothing to gain in the big picture, down by 3 in the game, the Pack called a double handoff that put Brett Favre (3-time MVP, Superbowl champ, NFL record setter in multiple categories, none more impressive than his streak of 217 consecutive starts) out in front of their eighth string running back as the primary blocker. That's right, Brett Favre was the primary blocker, and not only did he hit someone, but his block got the Pack a first down.
I live in the midst of hysteria currently, because the Colts truly are an amazing football team, and I have friends and relatives who will be pumped if they go to a Superbowl. But for me, there simply isn't any wonder about the Colts being undefeated. They ought to be. But this Sunday I watched my team, a Pack of serious underdogs with nothing left to play for and they never quit. I watched their only marquee player, at least the only one left, put his ass on the line to get a first down. That's freaking football! That's the kind of team I can be proud to root for even in a loss. Sunday Brett favre punched himself out. It'll happen again, maybe this season, hopefully for a couple more. But I'd rather have someone to cheer for willing to put it all on the line, throw into three recievers with a prayer, and get beat up and stand back up than ever cheer a team on that didn't have any heart.
I can't stand John Elway, and once, he beat the Packers in a Superbowl with sheer guts and determination. I still can't stand John Elway, but he's a champion. That can't be taken away from him and shouldn't be. Brett Favre is a champion and that shouldn't be forgotten either. He's playing with a JV team and hanging tough when a lot of other guys would have sat down already. Maybe this season Peyton Manning and the unstoppable Colts will truly be unstoppable, they'll hoist the Lombardi trophy and be called champions for the rest of their careers. But until they do...
My dad, when he was a basketball coach used to have a saying:
"To be the best you have to outwork the rest."
You also have to beat the best. The Packers, not the best. The Colts, let's see.
And let the champions be champions forever.
Dec 8, 2005
Dec 7, 2005
No more waitin', tonight I feel the light I say the prayer. I open the door, I climb the stairs... (Coming To Terms) Part II
The title is the second half of the Bruce Springsteen lyric from last post. He cannot crack the Big Three, but he can have first dibs at repeating titleship. Click the title to read a great article about The Boss from Slate online magazine.
Coming To Terms
Part Two
When I was younger and we had to take the ISTEP tests I would always test in the high ninety percetiles. I was always in Gifted and Talented classes. I was always among the leaders of whatever class I was in, whatever school I was in. I remember hundreds of conversations with my parents that included the phrase "you can be anything you want to be J.D." and I know not every kid heard that.
And I know not every parent who says that believes it, but I believe mine did.
I became an incredible slacker, half-assing high school in some uncommunicated later rationalized nonverbal protest to how incredibly easy it all was. Now I tell kids high school is what they make of it, which is as important as I can make it without feeling dishonest. I made it a good nap, some fun times, and a lot of wasted talent. I had tested in the ninety percentile and finshed my senior year the lowest ranked smart kid in the class, somewhere above the middle and below the expectation, where academically I feel most comfortable.
But the problem is I believe it too-that I could be anything I want to be.
So here, 26 years into the game, I come to a new edge of reasoning I haven't yet explored, simply stated in the question I've been asking myself lately, "What am I waiting for?"
In March in Indiana and probably other places but I've never been, basketball is an all consuming distraction from life and work and school. We used to save up hallpasses to skip class for the library to watch the day games of the NCAA tournament and now we save up vacation days for it. There was always a sense in those early round games that a 16 seed might beat a 1 one year. And frequently 13s and 14s from little schools would beat up on underachieving teams from big ones. I still remember Valporaiso putting up a fight a few years ago, Butler hanging tough when Andrew Graves was there, and ISU showing their punch in the torunament beating Oklahoma. Sure those are three Indiana schools! I'm telling you, if you don't live here, it's insane! All year long though, in almost every sport, in almost every situation I'm rooting for the underdog. It's not only something I find consisent with my upbringing, but I think its consistent with my faith as well. The least shall be greatest, the meek shall inherit the Earth, one year Creighton will beat Duke! I'm cheering for the underdog.
But I've never been the underdog. Sure I'm fat and bald, with crazy eyes and a weird complexion, but is there anyone who thinks superficaial things really limit us, or that my particular looks are a hindrance to my abundant charm?
I am white-I think we've established they aren't the underdogs throughout history.
I am male-Yep, top dogs, regardless of what's fair.
I am American-Is there any doubt we're still the most envied country?
Middle-class-for as broke as I always am I fall into this category by birthright and on my own.
Christian-By choice I belong, with plenty of reservations, to the larger religion named Christianity.
I am young, demorgraphically-They market TV and movies to 18-39 year old males so my opinion means dollar signs.
Plus I am talented. I am wise beyond my years. Accomplished for my years. Soon, I'll be educated as much as any peer, with twice the experience. I can write and I can sing and I can speak and I can think and I can lead. People listen to me and trust me and come to me for advice and wisdom. I am not an underdog. I am not an underdog and my being a slacker serves no one but my inner fear of failing-which I've never really done!
Please don't read this as an ego piece, although my ego is sizable. It is time I started fulfilling some of my earlier promise.
I need to be speaking to 20 groups a year, leading worship or retreats with kids and parents. I need to record my music. I need to fulfill the last months of my call to this church while making myself emotionally available to the next thing(s). I need to challenge this church not to take the easy way out. I need to challenge myself the same way. I need to write with some purpose other than these self absorbed rants and little moral teachings to people I know love me. I need to focus next semester, so I can be all the places I am challenging myself to be and be fully available to those people. I need to get some drugs/therapy/sleep or making out in to get me over my damn funk. I need to start putting the ideas I have together for my future. I need to be persistent AND patient simultaneously. I need to continue to put things in perspective.
Reinhold Niebuhr's famous Serneity Prayer needs to be on my mind:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
--Reinhold Niebuhr
I don't belong at the bottom of the smart pack, the middle of the whole pack, or in the backrow with the slackers. I have been given too much to waste it not doing, or feeling too sad to overcome. I believe in myself, to a fault, to the end. It is a testament to those who have raised me and taught me, and on their behalf, finally I can no longer squander the time I have nor the gifts I've been given.
What do I want to be?
A (Leader, Preacher, Father, Son, Brother, Husband, Writer, Speaker, Singer, Friend, Counselor, Director, Dreamer, Visionary) who helps people live a better life. And not just a life changed, but a changed life that makes them want to help others too. Going by that list I have accomplished exactly four of the list if I'm honest and one was handed to me at birth and another a couple years later. I've earned two. I have work to do.
I need to climb the stairs from out of this gray. I need to get to work. I need to start living the life I'm capable of. I need to start being what I was meant to be. What moral teaching is there to render from this self absorbed affirmation? We all have work to do becoming what we were meant to be. Please try. Please help me try. If you're reading this you have played a role to this point in my life. Probably your take on what I've done thus far is a little more forgiving than mine. It doesn't matter. What matters is that there are things I need to be doing and its time I started doing them.
Coming To Terms
Part Two
When I was younger and we had to take the ISTEP tests I would always test in the high ninety percetiles. I was always in Gifted and Talented classes. I was always among the leaders of whatever class I was in, whatever school I was in. I remember hundreds of conversations with my parents that included the phrase "you can be anything you want to be J.D." and I know not every kid heard that.
And I know not every parent who says that believes it, but I believe mine did.
I became an incredible slacker, half-assing high school in some uncommunicated later rationalized nonverbal protest to how incredibly easy it all was. Now I tell kids high school is what they make of it, which is as important as I can make it without feeling dishonest. I made it a good nap, some fun times, and a lot of wasted talent. I had tested in the ninety percentile and finshed my senior year the lowest ranked smart kid in the class, somewhere above the middle and below the expectation, where academically I feel most comfortable.
But the problem is I believe it too-that I could be anything I want to be.
So here, 26 years into the game, I come to a new edge of reasoning I haven't yet explored, simply stated in the question I've been asking myself lately, "What am I waiting for?"
In March in Indiana and probably other places but I've never been, basketball is an all consuming distraction from life and work and school. We used to save up hallpasses to skip class for the library to watch the day games of the NCAA tournament and now we save up vacation days for it. There was always a sense in those early round games that a 16 seed might beat a 1 one year. And frequently 13s and 14s from little schools would beat up on underachieving teams from big ones. I still remember Valporaiso putting up a fight a few years ago, Butler hanging tough when Andrew Graves was there, and ISU showing their punch in the torunament beating Oklahoma. Sure those are three Indiana schools! I'm telling you, if you don't live here, it's insane! All year long though, in almost every sport, in almost every situation I'm rooting for the underdog. It's not only something I find consisent with my upbringing, but I think its consistent with my faith as well. The least shall be greatest, the meek shall inherit the Earth, one year Creighton will beat Duke! I'm cheering for the underdog.
But I've never been the underdog. Sure I'm fat and bald, with crazy eyes and a weird complexion, but is there anyone who thinks superficaial things really limit us, or that my particular looks are a hindrance to my abundant charm?
I am white-I think we've established they aren't the underdogs throughout history.
I am male-Yep, top dogs, regardless of what's fair.
I am American-Is there any doubt we're still the most envied country?
Middle-class-for as broke as I always am I fall into this category by birthright and on my own.
Christian-By choice I belong, with plenty of reservations, to the larger religion named Christianity.
I am young, demorgraphically-They market TV and movies to 18-39 year old males so my opinion means dollar signs.
Plus I am talented. I am wise beyond my years. Accomplished for my years. Soon, I'll be educated as much as any peer, with twice the experience. I can write and I can sing and I can speak and I can think and I can lead. People listen to me and trust me and come to me for advice and wisdom. I am not an underdog. I am not an underdog and my being a slacker serves no one but my inner fear of failing-which I've never really done!
Please don't read this as an ego piece, although my ego is sizable. It is time I started fulfilling some of my earlier promise.
I need to be speaking to 20 groups a year, leading worship or retreats with kids and parents. I need to record my music. I need to fulfill the last months of my call to this church while making myself emotionally available to the next thing(s). I need to challenge this church not to take the easy way out. I need to challenge myself the same way. I need to write with some purpose other than these self absorbed rants and little moral teachings to people I know love me. I need to focus next semester, so I can be all the places I am challenging myself to be and be fully available to those people. I need to get some drugs/therapy/sleep or making out in to get me over my damn funk. I need to start putting the ideas I have together for my future. I need to be persistent AND patient simultaneously. I need to continue to put things in perspective.
Reinhold Niebuhr's famous Serneity Prayer needs to be on my mind:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
--Reinhold Niebuhr
I don't belong at the bottom of the smart pack, the middle of the whole pack, or in the backrow with the slackers. I have been given too much to waste it not doing, or feeling too sad to overcome. I believe in myself, to a fault, to the end. It is a testament to those who have raised me and taught me, and on their behalf, finally I can no longer squander the time I have nor the gifts I've been given.
What do I want to be?
A (Leader, Preacher, Father, Son, Brother, Husband, Writer, Speaker, Singer, Friend, Counselor, Director, Dreamer, Visionary) who helps people live a better life. And not just a life changed, but a changed life that makes them want to help others too. Going by that list I have accomplished exactly four of the list if I'm honest and one was handed to me at birth and another a couple years later. I've earned two. I have work to do.
I need to climb the stairs from out of this gray. I need to get to work. I need to start living the life I'm capable of. I need to start being what I was meant to be. What moral teaching is there to render from this self absorbed affirmation? We all have work to do becoming what we were meant to be. Please try. Please help me try. If you're reading this you have played a role to this point in my life. Probably your take on what I've done thus far is a little more forgiving than mine. It doesn't matter. What matters is that there are things I need to be doing and its time I started doing them.
Dec 6, 2005
I got somethin' in my heart, I been waitin' to give. I got a life I wanna start, one I been waitin' to live. (Coming To Terms) Part I
Title today comes from a Bruce Springsteen song off his latest album Devils and Dust. The song is called Leah. Bruce may be the only person I'd consider disrupting the Music Trinity I've immortalized with the links on the right. Instead he's gonna get the double quote treatment as my next post will use the second half of this lyric. Click on the title to see Bruce's pretty comprehensive page.
Coming To Terms
Part I
This funk has got to end and it needs to end right now. I can't be what I need to be to people, for people, for myself with this weight on me. So if you will indulge my rantings I will be offering up a two part self induced therapy writing/bitch session/vision forming piece in my next posts, hopefully coming to some form of conclusion about how I get over my grayness...again.
First the bitch session...
Tonight I went to a movie, that was to begin at 5:20, it began at 5:43 after 4 commercials, 6 previews for other movies, of which I will be seeing 0, and a dated dumb introduction for the movie theater I was at, as if the decals on every doorway, popcorn tub, cup, and urinal cake wasn't enough. Okay that last one is just satirical, but it made my point. I go to the movies to get away from all the BS that comes with living near other people. I don't need sold Coke or Movie Tickets while I'm at the theater drinking a Coke, and I sure don't want to be persuaded to join the National Guard when I'm clearly blowing off steam watching Herbie Rides Again. (Satire people! Which I will denote from now on with a big italicized S)If the commercials were products related to the film I think I'd be okay with it. If the Marines wanted to show that dragon slaying commercial of theirs before Jarhead, okay. Or if The Occult wanted to sell broomsticks before Harry Potter I'd be cool with that S. Why didn't the Catholic church have some commercials on before The Passion of The Christ? Or why shouldn't OUT magiazine sponsor Brokeback Mountain. For God sakes, why not just have actors wear Nascar jumpsuits with sponsorship on them within the movie? S Skittles bring you Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain...Taste The Rainbow! (If you've missed the satire to this point, stop reading. I will only be making you madder.)
But EVERYTHING is for sale and no one isn't a sellout!
And it makes me sick. Christmas is supposed to be this blessed holiday where we celbrate the Son of God coming into the world to save all mankind, and how do we celebrate the beginning of the season? How is it that we kick-off this season of peace and hope and silent nights? By kicking the snot out of eachother over toys and electronics on the day after we give thanks to God for our many blessings. Let's beat each other over a Wipe-Me Elmo. This year there were fist fights over sales priced computers at Wal-Mart. Two things. One-if you are buying a computer at Wal-Mart, can the purchase really mean that much to you? Two-get some freaking perspective. On Thanksgiving we feed our big fat faces,(and in the USA most of us are big and fat) unbuckle our pants, rollover and watch overpriced crybabies play a game that too many act like is more important than life itself (I can say this because my beloved Packers are absolutely atrocious this season, but I'm guilty), sermonize what it means to be American, why the war is justified, why the Pacers are the best team in the NBA, and why Ron Artest is not a thug, (Okay this quickly became my Grandma Rose's house on Thanksgiving...let me rebound) we nap and eat and half-ass thank the Divine for our blessings we're clearly taking for granted, except for the wisest of us, and then, fed and rested, with freshly clipped coupons we rush to the stores at the buttcrack of dawn to kick the snot out of eachother over meaningless fleeting crap that could never bring us contentment or express love. Meanwhile some kid in Iraq is just glad his dad didn't get killed on police duty, some girl in Israel is simply thankful her mother wasn't at the fruit-stand when the suicide bomber denoated her bomb, and fifteen kids in a single tent split a bowl of rice I'd have let the waiter clear from my table with T-bone from my steak. Joy To The World!?
And this holiday my greedy ass asked for a computer or at least a sizable chunk of money so I could buy one. And what will I do with that computer? Write self-indulgent songs? Self-damning blogs? On my better days. I'll probably look up topless pictures of Carla Gugino and Jessica Alba and gamble online.
I work in a church, and I'd like to tell you that at least we focus on the right things during the holidays. But I can't. We're in steep competition mode. We have got to have a Christmas Eve service and it has got to be better than last year's and we have got to have it at 11 like every year because people expect that and the children have got to sing and the bell choir has got to play and the altar colors have got to be white and we need a brass quartet and lots of special music. Guess what? When God sent his son, on the first Christmas, you know what he did? He sent a host of angels into the fields to announce the birth to some shepherds. He didn't make the sky rain fire or the Earth rumble, except for a single star there wasn't a whole lot of cosmic fanfare, and except for a few shepherds, some stinking animals, and what had to be a few days or weeks later if you use your brain some kings, Jesus' birth is kind of boring. The Savior was born where cows slept and at my church we've got to pull out all the stops to celebrate it.
And we'll sing these ridiculous hymns. Away in a Manger? Second verse-The cattle are lowing the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes. Why not? The cattle are lowing. I might be crying once I find out what lowing is. And why is it bad for Jesus to be a human baby, crying instead of some deity superaware of his surroundings? The First Noel? The First Noel, the Angels did say, Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay, In fields where they lay keeping their sheep,On a cold winter's night that was so deep. Okay. This song gets the story right, but what does so deep mean? Profound? Was the snow deep? Was it a cold winter's night in the middle of the desert? Yahoo Weather predicts December 25 to be in the 50's in Bethlehem this year, like most years. Lot of those snowy Bethlehem scenes seem kind of unifornmed don't they? Ofcourse The date of Christmas was originally a pagan holiday, but that is for another blog. I just think some of the hymns have a very Western December in Kansas take on Jesus' birth. But the hymns aren't the worst of the Christmas season's musical sins. Not at all.
Has anyone ever heard the song Christmas Shoes? Now, why does that singer grunt and groan that song, and why does the kids choir sing at all, and why do so many people fail to see how juvenile and clcihe that whole song is? I can barely go into stores these days, or banks, or offices-they all have cheesy Christmas music blaring. Overproduced cornball fluff piped over the speakers like The Tran-Siberien Orchestra is a respected group of musicians or Kenny G broke new ground with his Christmas albums. And nothing is as bad as new covers of Christmas classics. I heard some punk band do a just God-awful rendition of Silent Night, all sped up and angst ridden. For Christmas music you have almost got to go back to The Rat Pack, some Dean Martin It's Cold Outside or Frank Sinatra singiing anything to find the last time Christmas music didn't seem stale. Ironic isn't it-to find music that doesn't sound overproduced and cheesy I reccommend some of the most overproduced cheesy music ever made. But its the singers that sell it. When Dean sings a Christmas song I know he's had two or three egg nogs and he means some serious Yule-Tide business. Do you think Frank Sinatra ever went shopping at Wal-Mart and fistfought for a computer? (Striek that question...it doesn't even make sense.) Give me some Mel Torme Christmas Song or Burl Ives or hell Bing Crosby and David Bowie. I do not want to hear Avril Lavigne's version of White Christmas.
And Christmas will come and we'll all give away a little bit more of its meaning again this year. Today, Yahoo News reported that some megachurches are cancelling Sunday services on Christmas. That's right, some Christian churches think its a better idea to cancel service on Christmas so families can be together instead of worshipping. Amazingly, admittedly, I am torn on this subject. I have been to very few Christmas services that I thought had anything to do with Jesus, really. But to not try on this day of all days to celebrate Christ seems extremely hypocritical, and frankly kind of defeatest. I will be waking up on Christmas day to dig candy out of my stocking because my mom thinks its still fun to give her grown children candy and dollar store trinkets and blame it on Santa. My sister and I will trade all the stuff we don't like to eachother for stuff we do, and most of it I will give to kids in January sometime. I'll get to spend some time with my father's parents but as son as they leave I'll be sad because I never know when it'll be the last time I see them. the whatever I get, I will retreat to my room or some room to entertain myself playing with a toy or putting together something or reading. Each year, the fact that I don't have a wife and kids seems more serious than the year before, so I'll be down and the next few days I'll just be in my head waiting for New Year's Eve when I'll entertain three or four invitations, but ultimately go hang out with the friend that knows me least, because then my life seems strangely fresh, and by midnight I'll have convinced myself I am one hell of a guy and that this is my year.
After the New Year, when I'll justify getting blitzed and acting like I'm 21 instead of 26, waking up emotionally and spiritually refreshed, but physically ill, I'll watch five or six bowl games that mean nothing to me, but will dominate my week. The Tostitos Fiesta Bowl, The Nokia Sugar Bowl, The Drano Toilet Bowl! S And these five or six games, over three or four days will show my true spirit. Do you know who I'll be rooting for in every game?
The Underdog.
It is this knowledge of myself that leads me to the conclusions of my next post. I am a rooter for/supporter to/champion of the underdog. But there is no real point in acting anymore like I am one. It is time I quit complaining and seeing all the shit I can't fix and started hoping more and changing the stuff I can. It is time I truly took hold of my own promise and committed myself in a real way to what it is I am capable beyond all my peers of doing.
Coming To Terms
Part I
This funk has got to end and it needs to end right now. I can't be what I need to be to people, for people, for myself with this weight on me. So if you will indulge my rantings I will be offering up a two part self induced therapy writing/bitch session/vision forming piece in my next posts, hopefully coming to some form of conclusion about how I get over my grayness...again.
First the bitch session...
Tonight I went to a movie, that was to begin at 5:20, it began at 5:43 after 4 commercials, 6 previews for other movies, of which I will be seeing 0, and a dated dumb introduction for the movie theater I was at, as if the decals on every doorway, popcorn tub, cup, and urinal cake wasn't enough. Okay that last one is just satirical, but it made my point. I go to the movies to get away from all the BS that comes with living near other people. I don't need sold Coke or Movie Tickets while I'm at the theater drinking a Coke, and I sure don't want to be persuaded to join the National Guard when I'm clearly blowing off steam watching Herbie Rides Again. (Satire people! Which I will denote from now on with a big italicized S)If the commercials were products related to the film I think I'd be okay with it. If the Marines wanted to show that dragon slaying commercial of theirs before Jarhead, okay. Or if The Occult wanted to sell broomsticks before Harry Potter I'd be cool with that S. Why didn't the Catholic church have some commercials on before The Passion of The Christ? Or why shouldn't OUT magiazine sponsor Brokeback Mountain. For God sakes, why not just have actors wear Nascar jumpsuits with sponsorship on them within the movie? S Skittles bring you Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain...Taste The Rainbow! (If you've missed the satire to this point, stop reading. I will only be making you madder.)
But EVERYTHING is for sale and no one isn't a sellout!
And it makes me sick. Christmas is supposed to be this blessed holiday where we celbrate the Son of God coming into the world to save all mankind, and how do we celebrate the beginning of the season? How is it that we kick-off this season of peace and hope and silent nights? By kicking the snot out of eachother over toys and electronics on the day after we give thanks to God for our many blessings. Let's beat each other over a Wipe-Me Elmo. This year there were fist fights over sales priced computers at Wal-Mart. Two things. One-if you are buying a computer at Wal-Mart, can the purchase really mean that much to you? Two-get some freaking perspective. On Thanksgiving we feed our big fat faces,(and in the USA most of us are big and fat) unbuckle our pants, rollover and watch overpriced crybabies play a game that too many act like is more important than life itself (I can say this because my beloved Packers are absolutely atrocious this season, but I'm guilty), sermonize what it means to be American, why the war is justified, why the Pacers are the best team in the NBA, and why Ron Artest is not a thug, (Okay this quickly became my Grandma Rose's house on Thanksgiving...let me rebound) we nap and eat and half-ass thank the Divine for our blessings we're clearly taking for granted, except for the wisest of us, and then, fed and rested, with freshly clipped coupons we rush to the stores at the buttcrack of dawn to kick the snot out of eachother over meaningless fleeting crap that could never bring us contentment or express love. Meanwhile some kid in Iraq is just glad his dad didn't get killed on police duty, some girl in Israel is simply thankful her mother wasn't at the fruit-stand when the suicide bomber denoated her bomb, and fifteen kids in a single tent split a bowl of rice I'd have let the waiter clear from my table with T-bone from my steak. Joy To The World!?
And this holiday my greedy ass asked for a computer or at least a sizable chunk of money so I could buy one. And what will I do with that computer? Write self-indulgent songs? Self-damning blogs? On my better days. I'll probably look up topless pictures of Carla Gugino and Jessica Alba and gamble online.
I work in a church, and I'd like to tell you that at least we focus on the right things during the holidays. But I can't. We're in steep competition mode. We have got to have a Christmas Eve service and it has got to be better than last year's and we have got to have it at 11 like every year because people expect that and the children have got to sing and the bell choir has got to play and the altar colors have got to be white and we need a brass quartet and lots of special music. Guess what? When God sent his son, on the first Christmas, you know what he did? He sent a host of angels into the fields to announce the birth to some shepherds. He didn't make the sky rain fire or the Earth rumble, except for a single star there wasn't a whole lot of cosmic fanfare, and except for a few shepherds, some stinking animals, and what had to be a few days or weeks later if you use your brain some kings, Jesus' birth is kind of boring. The Savior was born where cows slept and at my church we've got to pull out all the stops to celebrate it.
And we'll sing these ridiculous hymns. Away in a Manger? Second verse-The cattle are lowing the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes. Why not? The cattle are lowing. I might be crying once I find out what lowing is. And why is it bad for Jesus to be a human baby, crying instead of some deity superaware of his surroundings? The First Noel? The First Noel, the Angels did say, Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay, In fields where they lay keeping their sheep,On a cold winter's night that was so deep. Okay. This song gets the story right, but what does so deep mean? Profound? Was the snow deep? Was it a cold winter's night in the middle of the desert? Yahoo Weather predicts December 25 to be in the 50's in Bethlehem this year, like most years. Lot of those snowy Bethlehem scenes seem kind of unifornmed don't they? Ofcourse The date of Christmas was originally a pagan holiday, but that is for another blog. I just think some of the hymns have a very Western December in Kansas take on Jesus' birth. But the hymns aren't the worst of the Christmas season's musical sins. Not at all.
Has anyone ever heard the song Christmas Shoes? Now, why does that singer grunt and groan that song, and why does the kids choir sing at all, and why do so many people fail to see how juvenile and clcihe that whole song is? I can barely go into stores these days, or banks, or offices-they all have cheesy Christmas music blaring. Overproduced cornball fluff piped over the speakers like The Tran-Siberien Orchestra is a respected group of musicians or Kenny G broke new ground with his Christmas albums. And nothing is as bad as new covers of Christmas classics. I heard some punk band do a just God-awful rendition of Silent Night, all sped up and angst ridden. For Christmas music you have almost got to go back to The Rat Pack, some Dean Martin It's Cold Outside or Frank Sinatra singiing anything to find the last time Christmas music didn't seem stale. Ironic isn't it-to find music that doesn't sound overproduced and cheesy I reccommend some of the most overproduced cheesy music ever made. But its the singers that sell it. When Dean sings a Christmas song I know he's had two or three egg nogs and he means some serious Yule-Tide business. Do you think Frank Sinatra ever went shopping at Wal-Mart and fistfought for a computer? (Striek that question...it doesn't even make sense.) Give me some Mel Torme Christmas Song or Burl Ives or hell Bing Crosby and David Bowie. I do not want to hear Avril Lavigne's version of White Christmas.
And Christmas will come and we'll all give away a little bit more of its meaning again this year. Today, Yahoo News reported that some megachurches are cancelling Sunday services on Christmas. That's right, some Christian churches think its a better idea to cancel service on Christmas so families can be together instead of worshipping. Amazingly, admittedly, I am torn on this subject. I have been to very few Christmas services that I thought had anything to do with Jesus, really. But to not try on this day of all days to celebrate Christ seems extremely hypocritical, and frankly kind of defeatest. I will be waking up on Christmas day to dig candy out of my stocking because my mom thinks its still fun to give her grown children candy and dollar store trinkets and blame it on Santa. My sister and I will trade all the stuff we don't like to eachother for stuff we do, and most of it I will give to kids in January sometime. I'll get to spend some time with my father's parents but as son as they leave I'll be sad because I never know when it'll be the last time I see them. the whatever I get, I will retreat to my room or some room to entertain myself playing with a toy or putting together something or reading. Each year, the fact that I don't have a wife and kids seems more serious than the year before, so I'll be down and the next few days I'll just be in my head waiting for New Year's Eve when I'll entertain three or four invitations, but ultimately go hang out with the friend that knows me least, because then my life seems strangely fresh, and by midnight I'll have convinced myself I am one hell of a guy and that this is my year.
After the New Year, when I'll justify getting blitzed and acting like I'm 21 instead of 26, waking up emotionally and spiritually refreshed, but physically ill, I'll watch five or six bowl games that mean nothing to me, but will dominate my week. The Tostitos Fiesta Bowl, The Nokia Sugar Bowl, The Drano Toilet Bowl! S And these five or six games, over three or four days will show my true spirit. Do you know who I'll be rooting for in every game?
The Underdog.
It is this knowledge of myself that leads me to the conclusions of my next post. I am a rooter for/supporter to/champion of the underdog. But there is no real point in acting anymore like I am one. It is time I quit complaining and seeing all the shit I can't fix and started hoping more and changing the stuff I can. It is time I truly took hold of my own promise and committed myself in a real way to what it is I am capable beyond all my peers of doing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
