Ok – it is July 31st which means the Christmas decorations have arrived in the stores and people (like me) have once again realized that I have failed to pack the lights properly and throw away the bad ones. But enough of my mid-summer Christmas angst.

Today has been an interesting day made up primarily of not one but 8 separate car trips all over southern Manitoba. You think I gest? Well here’s a list:

Trip #1 – leave at 10 am for trip to Winnipeg to bring my sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew to the airport after a GREAT (here that other relatives?) visit.

Trip #2 – return to Morden from Winnipeg (and no moaning about how this is all part of the same trip). Stopped about 1/7th of the way home to let Itsy out so she could pee on the side of the road while I sheltered her from the view of all on-coming traffic.

Trip #3 – driving to Carman from Morden because I forgot to stop at the TD bank and deposit some money into an account.

Trip #4 – extra long return trip from Carman because I thought I’d make it interesting and take a different route home.

Trip #5 – Drive to post office to pick up long expected package of souvenirs from my sister’s visit to Ireland. Package was not there – it was still on post truck which led to a conversation with post master about why would you bring a package along on the mail delivery only to put a tag in my mailbox???? Reply – well – the postperson would have tried to see if you were home and then seeing as you were not they would have placed noticed in box.

Trip #6 – return home from post office

Trip #7 – Head back to post office. Picked up package (woohoo) and wisely chose not to pursue my issues with package delivery avoidance. Walked to bank to do some ATMing. Walked to drug store to pick up prescription. Walked back to car.

Trip #8 – Drove home and immediately opened the package of souvienirs which had some very nice pictures of Ireland for my wife and a KICK BUTT (can I say this) rugby T from the Guiness factory in Dublin. I have to tell you this is an awesome rugby T which I WILL be wearing to work on Tuesday.

Time all driving trips completed – 5 pm <wheww>

I think I will stay up and watch anime tonight (just because) – probably watch Ghost in the Shell or maybe Serial Experiment Lain.

I have also decided to dust off my complete Shakespeare and read A Winter’s Tale (just ’cause). I will report back to you if I think of it.

P.S. Note to parents of my youth (you know who you are) – you have blessed us in spectacular fashion this past Sunday and it will not be forgotten.

P.P.S. I have the best job in the world with the best cow-orkers and the best youth – period. Why do I say this here and now? Probably a small stroke but hey – it’s still true.

memory calls back

the Boy

wandering train tracks

through summer’s death

everything sleeping

but Boy walks on

He is seeking

not hiding

there are stones to be found

spikes to be kept

there is no future

                          (not yet)

and yesterday

is a million mile away dream

there is no one and nobody

and a smile on Boy

who doesn’t care

the heat is good

it never ends

may it be a place

faithful and there

when needed

one day

in a foggy old age

where Boy still walks the tracks

in the killing heat

I am reading the Gospel of Mark right now. Mark is wonderfully succinct and to the point. Not a lot of elaboration – just quick, staccato like statements about Christ. No editorializing. I am at the part where Jesus is teaching in a home in Galilee and his popularity has grown to such a degree that there is no room in and around the home – it is packed with people.

 

I am the kind of person who, when confronted with such a situation, would go home and try to see Him on a less busy day. But then Mark tells us that four men came carrying a paralyzed man on a pallet. Seeing that they could not get in through the front door so they carried him to the roof, dug a hole in it, and lowered the man in his pallet to the floor before Christ. Now – I would think this a bold intrusion but Mark says "…Jesus, seeing their faith said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven." Now when He says this it ticks off the local scribes (religious teachers) who knew that only God could forgive sins. Jesus notices their discontent and says:

 

The first thing I notice is that Christ honors the faith of these men. The kind of courageous faith that will go through the roof to get to Christ. There is no one saying "let us come back tomorrow when He is available" it is the kind of faith that seeks Christ out at all costs. Nothing will stop them from seeking His healing power. It causes me to pause and ask – do I have that kind of faith? Would I go through the roof to get to Christ? Would I seek His healing forgiveness not even for myself but for my friend?

 

The second thing I notice is that Christ does not challenge the scribes perspective – He affirms it – they say only God has the authority to forgive sins and Christ says "you are correct and this is my authority". Then – since the scribes cannot see the inner healing God’s forgiveness wroughts Jesus heals the paralytic before them all…an outward sign of an inner grace.

 

 

Miner got so used to looking for the signs

that he forgot what the real thing looked like

 

There was gold

                     and then

                                   there was

 

the evidence of gold

 

and it got so that the evidence was more exciting

then the prize it pointed to

 

till one day miner forgot all about the gold

and sought only for signs

 

and miner didn’t know why

for all the effort

 

the pocket was empty

the bank account dry

the heart a withered husk

seeking coal over diamonds

crying for the black muck

while the bright dust floated

away down stream

and sank out of sight.

 

Isabella,

who will you marry?

            – asked father

 

I shall marry you

                          of course.

 

Matthew,

who will you marry?

            – asked father

 

I shall marry mother

                               of course.

 

Caleb,

Who will you marry?

            – asked father

 

I shall marry the wind

for then she will be with me

wherever I go

                       of course.

I see you walking by

and your song comes through

like shortwave

on a hot summer night

 

sweet buried signs of life

under dark static

eyes slung low

panes of dust black

 

beaten and eaten,

                   spit to earth

you crawl to hide your pain

and take the shame

 

no one showed you

the water that cleans

it tears away claws

 

this blood won’t stain

and hate can’t contain

angel-pure new

                      transformed you

 

I see the swimming ache

the dead shoes you walk in

shameless drinking oblivion

                                 at your own wake

 

there’s no hiding

the dying that flows

from those soul-deep wounds

but your tune comes through it all

soft and away like a dream

 

dance away from those demons

your Composer doesn’t let His songs die

but…they can spin into lonely night

a bleak signal lost

                            or

                               weave into the melody

I need to confess something, it’s something everybody has likely done at one point or another but nobody ever talks about (like farting) – you know when people come to you and give you something to read/listen to/play/see? Then you say "yeah, yeah, sure – I’ll check it it out – thanks." Then you promptly forget. Sadly this is something I do more often then I should and I did it with my sister when she recommended a song for me…she told me to listen to a song by Patrick Park called Something Pretty. I was like – "yeah, sure, I’ll listen to it – no problem". I even listened to the first three seconds so I had a loophole if she asked –

 

Her – "did you listen to it?"

 

Me – "Huh?"

 

Her – "Patrick Park’s song?"

 

Me – "Oh yeah sure…great song really."

 

Her (suspicious) – "reeeaaaallly?"

 

Me – "Oh yeah – an awesome song."

Anyhow – I actually listened to it the other day…and – wow…what can I say. This is an INSPIRED song with some serious lyrics and musically you can almost hear the celtic roots that underlay all country music. This is a SWEET song.

 

Oh – and to my sister (and everyone else) – I will actually do a better job of reading/listening/playing/seeing the things you suggest I do.  (insert sheepish grin here). Here are the lyrics:

 

SOMETHING PRETTY
lyrics © 2002 Patrick Park

Here I am, where I’ve been
I’ve walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin,
And my clothes are worn & gritty.
And I know ugliness,
Now show me something pretty.
I was a dumb punk kid with nothing to lose
And too much weight for walking shoes.
I could have died from being boring.
As for loneliness,
She greets me every morning.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

Here I am, where I’ve been
I’ve walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin,
And my clothes are worn & gritty.
And I know ugliness,
Now show me something pretty.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

the nearest ones

are glass to us

transparent –

we see right through them

 

and this is love:

 

these present ghosts

content to haunt

until we care to look

and see

           we were never alone

i can walk past pain

through the worries

and the world

seeing nothing

                         but

snow on the T.V.

 

there’s a drowning

– a desperate place –

that seeks beauty

and sees

              sackcloth and ashes

whose blind eye is this
that needs spit and mud?

 

mine?