Concert!

Max and Suzanna performed last night as part of the DC Festival of Lights. We were in the front row with a great view of them both. But it's a big auditorium (800? 900 seats?), I was impressed with how cool both of them were performing.

We saw Charlene with her kids, John and Jen Babcock with their whole family, a few other families from our Stake.

♪♫You Load Sixteen Tons, Whaddaya Get?♫♪♫

Thank you, Mr. Tennessee Ernie Ford.

Another year older. Yes, I know that the song's lyrics are "Another DAY older", but its contemplative tone resonates with me today.

This is the first time since I started blogging that I remember talking about something in a previous blog post. I think I said it pretty well last year. Go read that blog post!

I am glad to be living the life I have. My children are wonderful, my wife amazing. I am happy.

It has been sort of a drag being unemployed for three months. It seems like every self-observation I make needs to include an allowance for that. Things are good, even though I'm still out of work.

Christmas was great, but yeah, I'm still looking.

Having a great birthday, still applying.

Snow was fun last week, no immediate prospects.

So today, I'm grateful that my jobless status is the only big problem I'm facing. I am fortunate and blessed to be living the life I have.

Yesterday, Jenni and I took each other to see "Avatar" at the 3D Imax theater. Looked great, even though the plot was nothing new. I'm glad we saw it in a real theater.

Our great find was at the Ikea afterwards. Our favorite baby gave us a gift-card for Christmas. We've been collecting these chairs ("Urban" design, I've seen green, icy blue, white, and this color; they call it red, but it's pretty obviously orange, right?) for over two years, watching for them to show up in as is. I guess they are selling off the orange ones, because they were more than 50% off. We got three! If anyone finds any in the Ikea near them for less than $20, buy them for us? We'll get them eventually and pay you back!

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Update; In My Opinion, Finding Out Is Sometimes not Better than Being in the Dark

I got the sad letter today informing me that another candidate was selected for the job I interviewed two weeks ago.



Just letting folks know. I'll keep looking, keep hoping. Try to be cheerful and optimistic. I am grateful for good family members and friends, their encouragement is helpful, too.

Parenting the Imperfect

No, this is not a new pattern, I won't be starting every blog post off with a comic. Well, not unless I keep finding apropos comics...

Our poor house is a mess. We thought we'd have 3 days before the Christmas break to get everything clean, everything ready. Snow days have dashed that plan. There are snow clothes all over the kitchen, the front hallway, and the porch.

The cancellations have disrupted other things as well. Stewart was supposed to be wrestling tonight, and Emma was excited to finally see him in action. But with school cancelled, the meet is off! So that's sad, but now we can go carolling as a family tonight instead. We were going to try and cram it in tomorrow evening, which was the only night that we'd all be home.

This past weekend, we were signed up to help usher Max's concerts Saturday and Sunday night, but they got cancelled too. The Maryland State Boychoir held a single concert Monday night instead, and hoped that the combined crowds from the two cancellations wouldn't be too overwhelming. It was beautiful, of course.

Here are a few videos from Max's concert of the Changed Voice Choir singing Franz Biebl's Ave Maria. I know LDS teaching emphasizes not worshipping Mary, but I wonder sometimes if we shy too much from reverent appreciation on Mary's sacrifice and goodness. The adoration and affection that flows from this piece of music moves me nearly to tears every time I hear it.

Don't watch the videos for the visual quality, it's terrible. Just close your eyes and listen to the music.







Today will be a clean-up day. Our favorite baby is coming for an afternoon of overstimulation. The boys are dreading my repeated sorties into their room to battle the mountain of laundry. The pile of winter clothes is going to be banished to a closet. Perhaps I will just post some "after" pictures once it is clean

No News Is Stressful

Ten days ago, I had a great interview for the job I mentioned in my December 1st post, but haven't heard anything yet. When I think about it, my mind skitters away from dealing with the anxiety of it. It's hard to dwell on an unknown I cannot affect. There are other jobs I am applying for, one in DC that I am waiting for an interview to be scheduled. We keep praying, keep trying to be cheerful

So I focus on what I can affect.

Emma is home!



It snowed all day yesterday!You can see our front bushes slowly disappearing

No church this morning, but our Bishop gave us permission to conduct a short Sacrament service in our home. We were also asked to spend some time in service of our neighbors, and to consider it like the Elders Brigham Young directed to leave conference and go help bring home the stranded wagon trains. We agreed to go up the road to dig out one neighbor that Jennilyn is friends with (her husband is scheduled for hernia surgery). I sent Stewart ahead to get started while I finished our walk (just in case there was Seminary tomorrow).

Poor Stewart. He came back dejected about 30 minutes later. Apparently, he misunderstood the instruction, and went to the wrong house, and had finished about 2/3s of the driveway before the owner came out to ask him what he was doing. We tried to console him that service rendered is still valuable (the family has a severely handicapped son who travels in a wheelchair), but he was beside himself.

We all went back, to the right house this time. While there, our friend asked us if we could dig out the widow that lived across the street.

She has a son that cannot get up to see her very often. IT was a straight, short driveway, I knew we could do it in 20 minutes. As soon as we started on it, the husband/father in the house where Stewart had mistakenly shoveled came out and started up a snowblower. He came across the street and helped us clear out the hardest part, near the street where the plows had heaped snow in crusty chunks. I told Stewart that his help was the dividend we were receiving for his charitable (if mistaken) labor.

As we neared the front door of the widow's house, she came out and asked me how much she should pay us. I told her about our Bishop cancelling our church services, directing us instead to worship simply at home and look to our neighbors to see what help we could extend. She asked what our church was, and I told her.

"You are all fine Christians, and it is just a miracle you've come and dug me out!" I hope the kids remember that.

We are going to finish digging out from our house and walk to my parents' house to watch the Mormon Tabernacle Christmas special and have sacrament there. Probably some cinnamon rolls, too.

The kids have presents to wrap.

Max took Sam and Roxie sledding yesterday. I am sure they will be out playing again tomorrow. Today is a good day to sort through all the winter clothes and gear that we just put in a box and hid away last Spring. It is a good day.

Max's Previous Solo Experience

Someone asked about the time he sang "When You Say Nothing At All" with the North Harford Men's Chorus. Hear it here!

Busy Week, Busy Weekend

Saturday, it was cold. While Mrs. L. ran the birthday party at home and Stewart wrestled, I took the rest of the clan to Max's outdoor concert. We figured out the best way to stay warm was to huddle.


Can you see those great big awesome wintry flakes?

Because somebody wanted to know, this is what the broken table looked like while it was being fixed. So far, so good!

A highlight of the week was having a baby to play with! She was eating in the kitchen because . . . well, see the picture right above this one.

This is What "Win" Looks Like...

Our camera only records for 30 seconds, so you can see everything right up to the point where Stewart pins his opponent. Methodical, strong, and relentless. The whistle right in the middle is from a match on a nearby mat

Sorry for losing the action for a few seconds. I was watching pretty intensely.



Right after the referee slapped the mat, indicating Stewart had won the match by pinning his opponent. Stewart reached over and offered his opponent a hand up.

Woot!

When Do You Share News? Are You a Serial Sharer, or Do You Hold Off and Wait for the Whole Story?

"News". Facts. Information.

Where do you get yours? How do you share it? I feel like I constantly ask the children, when they are reporting something, to just tell me, "What did you do? What did you say? I don't want to hear your version of what someone else did, I can ask them that myself!" They know, by now, better than to under-report their own mistakes.

So many things happen. People get sick. Marriages founder. I remember going to my 15-year reunion and feeling ill from all the people who asked me about taking the bar exam.

"I'm sure you passed!"

*queasy* But what if I didn't? Part of me wished it was a secret that I had graduated from law school, so I could just wait until I knew if I had passed. How awful would it be to have everyone waiting for me to tell them good news...and I have to tell them bad news?

It's easy to understand why some people keep bad news to themselves. Why we wait, thinking to "protect" our friends and loved ones from worry. Sometimes, we are just protecting ourselves from that future embarrassment of having to follow a hopeful interim update with a sad conclusion. I don't think that's fair.

And what about news regarding other people? When you know something (or suspect something, or overhear something . . . or encounter the rumor of something, even?), who do you tell? Where does the respect for person A's privacy end, and the duty to share information begin?

If you find out your neighbor is having an affair, do you tell the spouse?

What if you found drugs in someone's gym bag?

What if you witnessed an abusive behavior by a parent, a boyfriend, a co-worker?

What if you heard about someone planning an activity that you think they'd regret tomorrow? What if you heard a friend's child planning something like that?

I'm not talking about real, legal duties to share; you have to report crimes. I'm talking about that nebulous moral zone occasioned by circumstances like those listed above. Do you have any other examples? Leave a comment with some!

For some, it might be easy to just barge in and start sharing information. I'm pretty sure that's not the best approach; we are cautioned strongly (by both scripture and etiquette manuals) against being gossips, for good reason. Unity and community are important, worthy ideals. A willingness to believe bad news about others (or the tendency to actively seek it out and share it) is destructive to trust and affection, both immediately and eternally.

It involves respect for one another, respect for privacy. If you come to know something damaging about someone else, and it wasn't that person themselves who shared the info with you, how do you handle it?

But it also entails a commitment to the truth. There is a reason hearsay isn't allowed in court. But set that aside, consider only things you know are true. Even if you come into the knowledge of a report of something, it is the fact of the report that is true, not the contents.

There are issues of curiosity, history, gossip, accuracy, all swirling in the issue. Surely nobody wants to be a rumor-monger or gossip, but hopefully, nobody really believes it's better to not know things about each other. Life and coping have their best chances to happily succeed in an environment of honesty and acceptance. Sunshine and openness.

I think we have a social, familial obligation, a duty to share information with each other, if it is information we would acquire ourselves *if* *we* *were* present. On the other hand, things that we wouldn't know about, even if we were neighbors, should be more discretionary. But I wouldn't underestimate the power of community and acceptance to be helpful even with a private struggle like that.

If someone is struggling with drug addiction, for example, or having marital problems, I think it would be a matter very much up to that person and their spouse, whether or not to share details with the family. But if someone got arrested for a drug problem, or got separated/divorced, or suffered some other public setback, then I strenuously argue that the fact of it should be shared with those people who love and care for the person. If you know, you have a duty to disclose.

What about hard feelings and prejudice? If sharing some act, comment, or behavior that is relevant, causes someone to harbor ill-feelings against the actor, shame on them. We have a duty to love, even to increase our love, especially in circumstances of trials like these. No one should feel their problems or hardships exclude them from their family, their friends, their loved ones.


Climbing back down, more to the point, when do you share something that is in process? Jenni's been gone for 8 days now. Our lovely huge dining room table broke (30 minutes before our guests were coming on Thanksgiving!), but it is almost put back together.

Should I have mentioned that the day it happened? Since it will be fixed before she gets back, should I just not mention it? Or should I wait until it is fixed and just reveal how awesome-talented I am in all things carpentastic?

(this was our on-the-fly fix)

I get asked, at least once a day (much more often if I am in a crowd), "How's the job hunt going?"

It is an act of will not to sigh dramatically before responding, "Still looking!"

Should I discuss the call-backs I get? Should I share when I am invited in for an interview?

I think so. So, to that end, I do have an interview next Tuesday, an office job with the Maryland Judiciary.

Just promise me you won't quiz me too closely on the follow-up. If I get the job, I'll let you know.

A Day in the Life of a Single, Unemployed Dad

Not "single" as in unmarried, but singular, solo. Mrs. L has gone TDY to do some painting for her family, so I'm here, coping.

That is not a plea for sympathy. Our house runs very smoothly, we've put two decades into teaching the kids how to participate in the operation, and they are fun to take care of because they really do help a lot. But it is worth noting here a scriptural fact I have mentioned often. In the story of the creation, God creates everything, names everything, and at the end of each period of creation, reviews and comments. Everything is good. Until he makes Adam. The first aspect of creation to receive a negative response, "It is not good for Man to be alone"

So we are good, but it's busy. My Dad teased me a little the week after I lost my job, suggesting that I was now, "A man of leisure." I frowned at him, telling him I wasn't sure if I was ready to joke about it yet.

But I suppose I needed the light-heartedness. It's critical to not get bogged down.

I look for work everyday. I used to do it while Jenni taught seminary, but while she's away, I'm her substitute. It takes time, at least a couple of hours, to look over all the web-sites, and then to fill out the online applications. I learned to keep a plain text, suitable for cutting-and-pasting, resume and job history open in a word processor. It gets to be a drag to have to re-type your job history a dozen times a week.

The most productive (productive-feeling; nothing I have done has produces any actual results yet...) thing I feel like I do is networking. Calling associates I knew at work, asking if they know of any openings. I've found dozens of jobs that way. But I've found several prospects via Monster and Hot Jobs, too.

Teaching seminary is exhausting and rewarding. The kids tend to be pretty subdued so early in the morning, but most of them are attentive, eager, thoughtful. They are wonderful, and I love the lightness they bring into our home.

Jennilyn has been inspirational, helping me to avoid devolving into navel-gazing mopery. When the year began, and I thought my employment was secure, we joined a health club with a year-long membership. We have been taking full advantage of that, going 4 or 5 times a week, trying to wring as much value out of the already-paid expense before it expires. I am trying out the "couch to 5K" program of running. My kids chuckle at my sore legs.

We have no TV, no netflix subscription. You would think without work taking up 10-12 hours a day, I would have a lot of free time.

But I have inserted myself into most of the home-business of getting kids to school, making dinner, cleaning. Friends and neighbors have been mindful of us, offering small one-off jobs to me, babysitting to Jennilyn. Our families have pitched in as well, hiring us to do their Fall yard work, or painting their house.

I've loved the chance to be around the kids more. Last year, I only ever got to go to one of Stewart's wrestling matches. This year, I've already tied that; he got the fastest pin at their first meet Tuesday night, an exhibition against Elkton. 59 seconds, whoo! I think the fastest over the course of the entire year last season was 20 seconds, so I am sure that record won't last. But exciting to be there and witness it.

There is more time for church work. Jenni gently reminds me that she wishes I would spend more time writing. Which I am trying to do via blogger also, another facet of our life where she is a good example, a great inspiration.

There are house projects to keep me busy (Hey Mrs L, I fixed your slow-draining sink!), but I try to limit myself to one or two a day. It is overwhelming to think of how much needs to be done, and I can't get overwhelmed. I need to stay positive and optimistic, I need to find a job. If I go from room to room, despairing at how much I don't have to spend on projects, I become tempted to just sink into a funk of denial.

There is not much I really miss about work. Certainly the sense of accomplishment in earning a living, the security of it. I miss some of my fellow employees, their light hearts and cheerful demeanors. I miss taking the train, and watching the turtles in the creek while I crossed the pedestrian bridge. I have been deliberately looking at jobs I could commute to on the train.

Even with no TV, Jennilyn and I watch a few TV shows together, but not many, really. Having been without a cable or satellite subscription for over a year and a half now has made us very choosy, very discerning. If a show is boring, or sleazy, or unentertaining, it's easy to just not watch it (especially since we have to seek shows out online or get them from the library). One strike and you are out.

It's funny how my relationship with food has changed since I lost my job. I no longer pack away single servings in the freezer; I don't take lunch anywhere. Food prep could be a simple place for self-pity, so I really try to not self-indulge. Using the extra time I have to try and eat right makes the day more pleasant.

We have appreciated the prayers and thoughts of our friends. If you have any ideas of where else I could be looking for work, let me know!

Many Things at Once

I love movies. I love being entertained, so really do enjoy a wide variety of entertainments (in my oh, so expansive free time), but movies in particular do a really good job of entertaining. Good movies do, anyway. But I have very little patience for many things associated with movies. I can barely stand going TO the movies these days; too used to closed captions. And when did they get SO expensive!?

I love the notion of the Oscar awards, but find the show tedious beyond my capacity to bear. Still, there are moments of brilliance. I saw a piece a few years ago that sticks in my mind. It was when Robert Altman got an award. Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep presented it, and they did a great bit, where they started by taking the stilted turns presenters take when they pair up for award ceremonies, obviously reading from prompters, stopping on cue for their cohort to take up the narrative, the little halts and eye-narrowing giving away the fact that it wasn't a natural speech.

But then they started to blur, talking over one another, occasionally lapsing into simultaneous agreement. How unprofessional! It was at first frustrating because such overlaps make the text of their speeches impossible to clearly understand. But then you get it; that's Robert Altman films. People talk over one another, the text gets blurred, it becomes chaotic, immediate, vibrant. They finish by reciting the line; "You leave his movies knowing that life is many things at once!"*

That sentiment resonates with me this morning. Mrs. L has been frustrated lately with the spare bed-/sewing/computer room. It is three things at once, which doesn't bother me; I see the future in the chaos. The beauty that comes later, after the indecision. I trust the patterns that I see over decades of living together. It's happened before.

When we were moving into this house, my Father asked me about the dozen doors I was stacking carefully against the garage wall. Old, dark, solid wood interior doors, many still with the old timey latches.

"Are you going to use these to replace the doors in the house?"

"Nope. They are art project material."

Dad was dubious. Clearly, he had never seen The Gates installation in New York.

I aspire to see things as they really are, which often means seeing them as more than one thing. It's not just a used door, it's a piece of wood with intense physical characteristics, its own inner beauty. And it's not a collection of beautiful wood, but a collection that creates a dynamic, offers potential in their future use.

But that's why my blog is named what it's named; I can see more than one side to things, it's sort of my gig.

Have you looked at some of the in-process photos Mrs. L puts up when she paints a room? All the furniture gets moved everywhere, we live for a day (or a week) in combined areas, eating around the kitchen island. It's disruptive, sure. But then the room is different, and Jenni is vibrant with the creation she has unleashed in our home.

I know some things in life are NOT more than one thing at once, they are binary, on or off, right or wrong. But the day-to-day living we do, where we are besieged with opportunity to choose, to labor, I suspect we do ourselves a disservice when we are impatient with the process.

Today, I admire my wife's ability to throw herself into things, to try, to do. I know that a natural consequence of that is somethings get half done, thwarted, paused, even abandoned. Don't give up, keep being flagrant, dynamic, stretching towards that aesthetically perfect everything at once room.

I'll be there to help you move the furniture back in and clean the brushes.


*If you want to see the dialog, you can watch the video here, their intro is about three minutes long.

Be wise

Be wise. My kids know, I am a never-ending (sometimes that's synonomous with "blathering") font of opinion. I wish I had been writing down all of my advice over the years. Not because it's "good" advice, just so I could remind myself I already said something, and not run the risk of repeating myself and becoming redundant, ignorable...

So here are a few collected bits, in no order, with no narrative.

Fill out the "for" blank on your checks. Write in your customer number, account number, transaction ID, whatever.

Check your bank statements OFTEN. More than monthly. The type of thing discussed in this article has happened twice to us over the years (mysterious charges showing up on our credit card statement). Catch them quick, report them, you'll get the money back and a new card issued.

We spend our days reacting and interacting with our surroundings. Don't always wait for the event, but look for indicators. Watch for brake lights 4 or 5 cars in front of you. Look in mirrors, look at shadows to see what's around the corner, who's coming. Be aware of blind corners, so you don't rush around one and make a pratfall of yourself. Forecast.

Buffet hack number 1; Chocolate Fountains; they're not just for pretzels. Look, if you have a full buffet, don't just go straight to the sweets. Have some roast, have some salmon. If there's cheese, have more of it. But when you do get to the sweet table, remember the chocolate corollary to the first law of culinary excellence; if it goes good with chocolate, it goes better with more chocolate. Those caramel pecan bars? Mmm, chocolate fountain drizzle on it is yummy. Bowl of M&Ms? Put some melted chocolate on it, and eat it with a spoon.

Park cool (front-end of the car facing out). It's safer to back in to a space than it is to back out (statistics, baby). And it's good for the quick getaway.

Synergies are efficient. Find a hobby that produces. A job that gives you food to take home.

Free, or inexpensive /= a good deal. Features you don't need can be a burden. Don't waste your time, money, or storage space on things you don't really want.


Buffet Hack number 2; I love eating at places I've never been before, and trying things that other people tell me are fabulous. I feel like I am living my life more fully, surfing the waves in front of their exeperiences. This is how I came to enjoy a Mango Lassi. My wife's sister recommended it to her, and then Jenni to me. Mmmm. There is an Indian Restaurant in Harford County with a Lunch Buffet. The Lassis are pricey, a few bucks each. But the buffet has a fruit salad which is chopped fruit in. . .mango lassi!. Sometimes, being uncouth is the price you pay for delicious. By carefully spooning out the fruit salad sauce into a bowl, I was able to refill my mango lassi drink.

Teach yourself to nap.

Know when to stop running after something. When I was taking the train, almost every morning, I saw people running to try and catch the train. But once it starts moving, it's too late.

Document everything you can. Take pictures the day you move in. Write in your journal. Scan documents, computer storage is cheap. Take a moment to sort and tag things so you can find them again. You won't regret having something tangible to go with your memories.

There are two kinds of fear, fear of harm, and fear of failing. Fear of harm is prudence. It can be the beginning of faith, the child that grows into wisdom. Fear of failing is pride. It is what makes us hide our talents, refuse to do something because it looks silly. It is the urge to refuse a course because it might be seen as cliche. Know the difference. Never ignore the first. Never heed the second.

Know all of your days that you are loved.

Be kind. I have often regretted being hasty or angry. I have never regretted being gracious.

Sworn In

It's official.

Mom was sworn in tonight.
Two year term. I am the son of a politician.

Harp Recital

Suzanna had a harp recital on Sunday that was awesome. I got a little silly with the camera, and apparently elicited like responses from the family.

Suzanna was eager for her performance to begin so I would leave her alone.

Roxie Jane started out happy and perky.


But she got tired of the perkiness and sought comfort.

Jenni was teasing Max and I about how our grumpy faces look the same. We were trying to look silly here, but I think the effect is scary; for both of us.

Grandpa let us see that it is actually our genetic destiny.

Grandma Sandy is still ready to campaign!

Jennilyn is politely warning me to knock it off soon...

Sam is glad he's sitting in the back row.

Stewart seems to be trying to use his brain to make me leave him alone.

It was a beautiful setting, with a valley below us and the leaves turning colors. When I can find a way to reduce the size of the video files I took of her performing, I will upload those as well.

All the Hues that Are Fit to Print...

For Jenni's love of Picasa's photo-editing features. :)

Every Man Should Know How to Tie a Necktie...

... especially a BOW tie.



This is the first in what will become an irregular series of posts about how to be a grown-up in today's society.

Taking Care of the Caretaker

Poor Jennilyn. She's had an earache for almost two days. Last night, she said she was going into the doctor today if it wasn't gone.

Not only did it not go, it got worse.

Diagnosis, Swimmer's Ear.

Doctor-prescribed anti-biotic ear drops and Lortabs are helping her feel more comfortable. Soup and a bagel has been comfort food today.

She does so much, it's nice to be able to take care of her once in a while.

Today I submitted myself as an applicant for another job at the nearby Army base. They hire a lot of civilians. I thought it was daunting re-drafting my resume for the first time in almost a decade, but the process was actually intuitive enough that it dissipated some of my tension. There are dozens more of these openings to sort through. Surely someone out there needs a law-talking guy of my unique skillset...

~Please Won't You Be . . . My Roommate.~

Things to do today;

• Apply for medical assistance, since my insurance is going to vanish in 3 weeks
• Help Dad get his wireless router working again
• Call the Maryland Court of Appeals and order letters of good standing for the job apps I am submitting everywhere
• Come up with a killer metaphor to explain online friction between worldviews

Years ago, I read a life-changing, worldview-shaping editorial. And dang it, I've never been able to find it again, so I can't reference the author or publication. If anyone recognizes, leave a comment!

The author (a woman) made the bold statement that all men fall into one of two categories; they are either boyfriends, or they are husbands. I'm not proposing to recreate this amazing hypothesis, though after two decades of adult experience (and far too many experiences with dysfunctional relationships), I will assert that it is very true.

The polar, binary formulation of the above editorial is appealing. It forces us to decide which we are, to defend our behaviors, to self-reflect and categorize. There are so many of these dichotomies in life, not all of them are real; I believe in gradations. Continuums of behavior. But sometimes, the either/or really is true.

Are you a "Type A" personality?
Beatles or Elvis?
Ontime or late?
Star Wars or Star Trek?*
Football or Baseball?
Dem or Repub?

So I propose another binary; I've been trying to formalize my concept of online interaction. Blog-reading, facebook-friending, message-board-messaging. We encounter folks. Leave footprints. You ever had an awkward encounter with someone else online? Maybe they were too aggressive? Or too combative? Too distant?

Some people interact with their online-folks like they were real-life neighbors. See, there's a boundary between neighbors, even if they are apartment building neighbors. Walls divide us. Everything we do outside the home is open for review, everyone knows that. It's embarrassing if you have a fight outside, because everyone hears it. Of course some people really don't care who hears or sees everything.

If that's the metaphor, than we presume everything that we do on online is going to be seen, talked about considered. I mean, maybe we are boring neighbors, and no one will notice us. But folks who are online like that, they use nicknames for their kids (or even themselves sometimes) so no one can learn things they shouldn't know). They are very circumspect about what they say and do online in the first place; you'll never get an online neighbor to admit that they watch trashy soap operas.

But some people treat their circle of online-folks like they are family. Living in the same house. There is a presumed, very real intimacy. They stick to people that they really know, aren't trying to recruit new folks. Their online life is often an extension of their "real" life.

When people from the first group encounter people from the second group, things get weird.

Person A, "Hey, new-friend, great house, cool furniture, love how you've decorated the place!"
Person B, "Dude. Why are you looking through my underwear drawer?"

How do you consider your online friends? I freely declare myself to be in the neighbor camp. When I shared the depressing news that I lost my job on Monday, half of the recommendations and job suggestions came from people I've never even met in real life. They are friends, neighbor-friends. My online life is an open book.

But I can understand that this flavor of presumed friendship can be freaky to someone that spends most of their online footprint staying in touch with family and real life friends.

How do we bridge that gap? I guess just be aware that where cultures collide, there will be friction. If you are a neighbor, don't go barging into a roommate's "house" and trash the place.

If you are a roommate, and a neighbor shows up with a plate of cookies, just try to understand that in neighbor culture, it's a gesture of friendship and welcome.

I believe in the capacity of the human heart to bridge gaps. To be friends. Friendship is an act of imagination and an exercise of will. What kind of friend are you? How do you bridge that gap?

* Note: every true SF fan, every true fan of good art knows there is only one true answer to that question; Firefly

Some Favorite Conversations (I want to remember)

"Man, this ketchup is bad. It's like it's gone rancid or something..."
"...that's cocktail sauce. It came with your fried fish."
(embarassed silence)


"So what's new?"
"Breaking news! This just in! My affection for you is at an all-time high!"


A young man, speaking with an adult acquaintance about the acquaintance's brother, "Say, aren't you two brothers?"
"You could say we are . . . distant relations."
"Someday I hope I'm distantly related to my brother, too."


"Thursday, we are going to the cannery on assignment for the church."
"What? I don't want to do canning!"
"Actually, you won't be canning, you are too young, you'll be labeling."
"What? But I want to do canning!"

Muddy Run campout, 2009

Our Scoutmaster is friends with a man who owns property right where the Muddy Run come out into the Susquehanna River in Pennsylvania. It's peaceful, muddy, tranquil. A great place to camp. Last week, we spent two nights there.


Jenni very kindly prepared some magnificent foil dinners for us. While everyone else ate their PBJs, we dined on roasted burgers with onions and zucchini.


The first morning was cool and beautiful. Max tried fishing, but caught only sunshine.

The funniest, messiest, silliest thing the boys did was have a massive seaweed fight. The goal, apparently, was to see who could get hit in the face by the biggest nastiest clump of slimey river-bottom plants. Friday afternoon, we did a float down the Muddy Run in tubes and canoes. Stewart wisely rested up before we left. It was a long float down.

Sam and I took Grandpa's canoe out for a spin around the corner. We were sad he couldn't be there (because of his torn hamstring from softball the week before).

Sam often talks about how much fun it would be to have a dog, but I'm not sure he enjoyed the neighbor's spaniel begging at breakfast...

The clouds on the second morning made the lighting really wild, almost like an eclipse. Max had fun skipping rocks.

The most boring part of any campout is the cleanup before going home. We had to deflate all of the inner tubes before we could leave.

I first saw this sign three years ago after going to this campout, and was glad that it was still up. This time I had a camera!


Stewart is the undisputed firemaster at all of our campouts. His best fire trick is using whatever he can find as a bellows.

Every Epic Love Story, Chapter Four; The First Kiss

My “move”. Ha!

I knew I had to do something. Seeing her around and not saying anything was driving me crazy. Talking to her without saying what I was thinking was driving me nuts.

Seeing her fence did something to me. Her grace and energy were beautiful. I was in love. I mean, it’s hard to look back and matter-of-factly evaluate how I really felt then. I was kid, I had no real idea what love means, the commitment, the work. At best, all I could have really been feeling then was a hint, the breezy echo of a future wind.

I knew so little about her. But things I did know, I knew very well.

She was smart. Funny. Gorgeous.

I knew most of all, that I wanted to know more of her.

Wednesday, March 26th, 1986. Kids, a history lesson. Back in the ‘80s, “home” computers were rare at best. So computer labs at universities were where students went to do their word processing. Back in the old days, rows of desks where filled with enormous desktop computers, rows of some original Macintosh computers (ah, the happy little sad-bomb screens and carrying a paper clip to eject 3 1/2 inch disks), and a few networked laser printers the size of mini-fridges. Those rooms, with the noise, the clutter of technology, must look today, to you, like the old pictures of the ENIAC machine looks to me . . .

I knew Jennilyn used a room in the Library to work on her papers, and had been paying slavish enough attention to her work-load this semester to know where she’d be Wednesday evening. Well, that’s not entirely true. I had already gone by the Leading Edge office, the annex building where she was doing ceramics. The library was the last place I had to look for her.

I found her there. She was in line, waiting to pay for some copies.

Mr. Suave here walked right up behind her and whispered something compelling, something romantic and clear.

“Uh, hey, so . . . I see you fixed your horseshoe?”

That noise? The thud you just heard? That’s the sound of my awesomeness hitting the ground like a lead balloon.

*sigh*

Remember in chapter 3, I mentioned my reference to the horseshoe on her porch? Yeah. Sly allusions to previous anonymous and nearly inscrutable secret notes is not the way to “make your move”.

I look back, and am so certain now about what I was feeling then. I wish I had possessed the basic sense to just be honest. I mean really; how hard is it to just . . . be honest? I wonder if our friends could see what was happening. My roommate knew I had a concussioned-dazed-crush on Jenni.

So I am amused now when I see young men stumbling through these opening conversations. My young friends, I feel your pain. Trust me, you just need to open your mouth and talk.

My great dumb-founding bon mot about horseshoes. Jennilyn turned around, and looked right by me, certain that it was someone else. I was far too young; couldn’t be me leaving notes.

So, I can’t believe that she took me seriously. I asked if I could walk her home. She assented.

I remember little else about that evening. We walked to her house. It was late.

Remember, this was college us, not middle-aged us. So being up to 10, 11pm at night was no big deal. We got to Jenni’s house around midnight. She could tell I was goofy for her. She offered me . . . a bowl of cereal and some grapefruit juice. We talked, I’m sure.

By the time we were saying good-night, it was later, closer to 1am. She took me home in her roommate’s truck.

I can’t remember exactly when, but at some point, gravity took over. Inertia, inevitability. We were coasting downhill. See, there’s an important lesson in this. There are choices we make, places we put ourselves, and if we persist long enough, the circumstance escapes our control. We can be attentive, we can forecast the routes that gravity will pull us down once our brakes are overwhelmed, but past a certain point, we have committed ourselves to the course by continuing in that direction. Good thing if we are going in a good direction. Disastrous if we are not.

I had been in love with Jenni, my limited, teen-aged heart’s capacity to love, for months. If I could have stepped outside and watched what was happening, I would have seen it was coming, and welcomed it.

Anxious to stretch out the evening, I invited Jenni to walk for a bit. We ambled across the street, circled the parking lot at The Pie, wandered through the empty lot of the college annex next door.

I stopped, turned to her, reached out and took her hands with mine. She raised my right hand to her face and kissed one of my fingers. I put my hands behind her head and I kissed her. I cannot recall that kiss without the decades of kissing since then coloring my memory somewhat. I know it was exciting, thrilling, chaste, and yearning, all at once.

We kissed, we talked, we kissed some more. We promised to see each other the next day. It occurs to me now, with my years of understanding how people relate to each other, there were a lot of things I didn’t know. What she expected (serious commitment? light-hearted dating? me going on a mission? was she only interested in the NCMO?). There are a lot of ways we expect things of each other, of our relationships. I would find, in about 15 hours, that I still had a lot to learn about being in love.

Look backwards at chapter 3.

Or see what happens "tomorrow" in chapter 5.