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Month: April 2020

Groomin’…On a Friday Afternoon…Doin’ Anything We Like to Do

Groomin’…On a Friday Afternoon…Doin’ Anything We Like to Do

Would You Like A Lime With That Week Seven

 

It’s Friday again, another week in “quarantine” comes to an end.

This week the focus in my house turned to appearances and what we might look like when this is all over and what we have to do to avoid that.

 

Last week I heard a story about a judge who made a plea in a letter for attorneys showing up for court hearings on Zoom, to put on some clothes and get out of bed.

Of course, this in was in Fort Lauderdale in Broward County, Florida.

Wait, wait, wait, my daughter is an attorney in Broward County, Florida.

Alexa, please tell me you were clothed and not still in bed for one of these Zoom hearings?

 

Grooming…or, not.

Things have certainly gotten a little more casual with our current situation.

Have we found the perfect hideout for our vanity in lockdowns, sheltering in place, physical or social distancing, and working from home?

Are we exhibiting paradoxical behaviors?

 

The dry cleaning pile sits ignored in a spare bedroom.

Casual business attire is now jammies and baggy sweatshirts, or less maybe, according to the judge in Florida.

 

And then there is hair.

Proverbs 16:31 says Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life.   

 

Though my wife has lived a very righteous life, she chooses to not flaunt that by making her hair blonde.  And she is very beautiful. However, lately she has been worried about her roots.

Do you ride it out?  Or do you go to Walmart or Target and do it yourself?

As a result of this root issue, this weekend I get to add beautician and coloring specialist to my “additional skills” on my resume as I will be the in charge of painting the roots.

 

Eyebrows are an issue too.

Kim wants me to wax hers.  I am thinking about drawing the line on that one. I keep having this image of Kim with one eyebrow or maybe two little ones.

Or maybe worse, third degree burns on her face.

Making her hair fall out I can live with, but disfiguring her face? Nope I ain’t doing it.

 

I am glad I don’t have to worry about all that.

Surely it’s a little bit of an exaggeration to think that  I will look like the “me” in the photo above.

But a couple of weeks ago I ran into my buddy Jim who was then sporting a full beard for the first time, taking advantage of the opportunity that working from home has allowed.

Though as an adult I have always had some level of hair on my face, never have I attempted a full beard.  I wasn’t sure I could.  I must say I was a little disappointed when it took my wife a full nine days to even notice.

But still she was encouraging.

Now that I think about it, she was very encouraging.

Hmmm…

My wife once told me a long time ago that she used to only date guys with beards.

Hey, I’m thinking maybe this could work out for me!

 

Growing up my hair was blonde and though I sure don’t know how much of a righteous life I have lived, right now I couldn’t tell you what color my hair is.  If I had to describe it, I would say gray with white highlights.

My hair is also, right now, longer than it has been since the 70’s.

“It’s getting’ kind of long,” almost like I am “letting my freak flag fly” again as David Crosby put it way back then in “Almost Cut My Hair.” 

Thankfully my “freak” days are way behind me.

 

But I don’t suppose all this is hurting anyone and I don’t have to worry about my dad yelling at me to “get a haircut!”

 

I do hope the day comes sooner than later, albeit when it is safe to do so, that those folks who rely on our hair, our eyebrows, our finger nails and toe nails, and our dry cleaning to make a living, are able to get back to work.

 

Earlier this week on a Zoom call for work we were asked what we were thankful for in this time of crisis.

The truth is I am realizing just how hectic life was for Kim and I before this pandemic forced us to slow down. I am spending quality time with my wing man once again. I’m even painting her roots.

I guess maybe that’s my paradox, finding peace and love in the midst of a crisis.

 

I will end with some more words from Crosby in the final verse of “Almost Cut My Hair;” “When I finally get myself together…And I find a place inside to laugh…I feel like I owe it to someone.”

Hopefully we will all be able to look back at this someday and find something to be thankful for and hopefully something to laugh about.   I think we are all owed that.

 

 

Post Script:

 

I did find one other Bible verse relating to hair that seemed a bit ironic and fitting:

Therefore say to them, “This is the nation that has not obeyed the Lord its God or responded to correction.  Truth has perished; it has vanished from their lips. Cut off your hair and throw it away;  take up a lament on the barren heights, for the Lord has rejected and abandoned this generation that is under his wrath.”  (Jeremiah 7:28-29)

 

I realize not everyone out there is experiencing what I am experiencing therefore:

Don’t forget to continue to keep those healthcare workers and their families in your prayers. Remember “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (Matthew 5:8)

As well as all those sick or compromised from the virus and all other health issues.

Also those non healthcare caregivers working to take care of a loved one while isolated at home.

And those families who have lost loved ones.

And those who have lost jobs and businesses.

And keep reaching out to those who may need some attention.

Got my mojo working…

 

Hello In There

Hello In There

Would You Like a Lime with That Week Six

 

“I am an old woman, named after my mother

My old man is another, child that’s grown old”

 

I am not an old woman and I don’t have an “old man.”  I didn’t write those words.

The person who wrote those lines was also not an old woman and didn’t have an old man either.

What made this person such a great songwriter was his ability to write from the perspective of the characters he created and wrote about in his songs.

John Prine passed away earlier this month, a victim of complications of the Covid-19 virus, another reminder of the times.

Those words are from the song “Angel from Montgomery,” one of my all-time favorite songs, written by Prine, made more popular by Bonnie Raitt.  It contains one of my all-time favorite lines:

 “If dreams were lightening, and thunder were desire

This old house would have burnt down a long time ago”

 

According to Jason Isbell, another singer/songwriter I have mentioned before who was a close friend of Prine’s, “John always said, when he grew up, he wanted to be an old person.”

I have always thought, when I grew up, I wanted to be a writer.  I guess for me being an old person some day was just assumed.

John Prine was a writer who just wanted the chance to grow old and proved you can’t just assume.

 

Kim and I had a nice Easter.

We got up at 6 a.m., had coffee by the fire pit while we viewed the on line Sunrise Service on Kim’s iPad.

Then we took a four-mile walk.

We planted flowers at Donny’s gravesite, now an Easter Sunday custom.

We did a Zoom call with all the kids and grandkids.

My cousin sent us a nice photo of my aunt, who along with my parents, are the last surviving members of that generation in my family.

We talked to our parents.

 

It hit home to me a little more this week, just how this virus, has impacted our older generation.

Almost a month ago now I wrote about how I wrote about “Mr. Nobody” and had read a lot of nice comments about my dad that I promised to read to him the next time I went out to see him.

When I made that promise, I thought it would be soon.

Now a month later I know I really don’t know when that will be.

And this past weekend a similar situation presented with my dad’s birthday.  Again there were many nice comments and remembrances, I promised to read them all to him.  I was thinking this time over the phone.  But there were so many, that didn’t seem practical.

So just before dinner on Easter Sunday I tried to teach my mother how to access my dad’s Facebook feed on his smart phone while trying to communicate this while on a video call over the Amazon Echo.  Understandably for an older person, trying to learn how to use a smart as well as navigate Facebook proved to be way too hard to manage.

Let’s face it, technology isn’t always an option for an older person.

After dinner, again sitting by the fire pit, I sat with my wife as she talked to her mother on the phone and towards the end of the call I listened to my mother-in-law weep as Kim assured her she would up to visit as soon as it was possible.

Then I received the photo of my Aunt Joan being wheeled out of her assisted living facility on Easter Sunday by a healthcare worker so that my cousins and their kids could see her from a safe distance.

 

And I realized, on a good day without a virus, most older folks don’t get to see their families or friends enough.

Prine had a song for that too called “Hello in There” that might make you cry if you have never heard it.

“We had an apartment in the city
Me and Loretta liked living there
Well, it’d been years since the kids had grown

A life of their own, left us alone”

Sad right?

The kids have moved on, they have a life of their own now.

 

Special days, like birthdays or Easter Sundays, are a big deal for our older family members and friends.

Maybe they get to go to church, which may be their one social outlet.

Maybe they get a visit from their family.

Maybe they get taken out to lunch or dinner.

But not now.

Some, like my dad, may not always understand that.

They are being deprived of that birthday visit, deprived of the Easter visit, deprived of being able to worship and have fellowship in church.

Instead, they have to wave to their family on a six-inch screen.

Or, from a wheelchair, with loved ones a safe distance across the street.

And they have to watch their church sermon on their cell phone or computer, using Facebook or YouTube.

Maybe.

Because, what if your older person can’t navigate a cell phone or computer; like my mother, my father, my mother in law, and my father in law.

 

Prine’s song “Hello in There” beautifully yet sadly captures the loneliness of an older couple.

“You know that old trees just grow stronger
And old rivers grow wilder every day
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say, “Hello in there, hello”

 

I understand why we have to live like this right now.

I guess the message is, if you have an older person or couple that you know is alone and isolated at this time more than ever, reach out to them.

And, if you have an older person who doesn’t have the technology or know how to use the technology, maybe once you are logged on to your online sermon or small group or happy hour Zoom group chat, call that person on the phone so they can at least listen with you.

Somehow find a way to do this:

“So if you’re walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes
please don’t just pass ’em by and stare
As if you didn’t care, say, “Hello in there, hello”

 

Say “hello in there.”

 

Post Script:

So, wanting to make sure my dad saw all those nice comments from all of you, I decided to print out hard copies of the Oceanport Centennial post and the birthday posts and mail them to him.  He received them on Wednesday and has been taking his time to read all of them.  He told me “they were great.” Thanks again to all.

The photo above is of my aunt,  Joan Christiansen, with the caption “Grandma! And the amazing healthcare worker that brought her out so we could wish her Happy Easter!”

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (Matthew 5:8)

Please continue to keep those healthcare workers and their families in your prayers.

And keep all those sick or compromised from the virus and all other health issues in your prayers.

And of course, all those families, who like the Prine family, who have lost loved ones.

The sun rising on Easter morning

And All God’s People Say…

And All God’s People Say…

Would You Like a Lime With That Week Five

 

In the darkness of the early morning, the worshipers began filling the benches of the church’s outdoor venue.  The fire was already burning, providing some helpful light as folks settled in their places, as well as a little welcomed heat on the chilly spring morning.  To the left of the fire was the cross, draped with white cloth and covered in fresh flowers now illuminated by the rising flame, creating a beautiful image to celebrate the resurrection.

As the time of the service approached the lone musician began singing songs of Easter unplugged on an acoustic guitar as the worshipers waited.

Now 6:30 a.m. the scheduled start time, and everything was perfectly in place for a beautiful Easter sunrise service; the fire, the cross, the music, the worshipers.

Yes, all the pieces were there, except for one, only one thing was missing.

The Preacher!

Six-thirty dragged on to 6:35 a.m., now approaching 6:40 a.m. while the music continued, the worshipers were starting to get antsy and whispering to each other.

I leaned over to Kim and said: “maybe I should go see where he is.”

I quickly walked into the building and found the pastor, Steve Vineyard, behind his desk hunched over his laptop working away.

I stood in the doorway of his office and the exchange went something like this:

“Hey man,” I said.

He spun around in his chair to face me and replied very cheerfully “hey Curt, how are you?”

“I am good,” I said.  “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he replied, “just reviewing my sermon, why?”

“Well,” I said, “because there are a whole lot of people outside waiting for you to come out and preach the Sunrise Service.”

He bolted straight up out of his chair and stood briefly visibly disturbed by what I had just told him.  He quickly collected his jacket, Bible, and sermon notes while muttering   “This is my worst nightmare!  I have nightmares about this kind of thing! Forgetting the service!”

We headed out the rear door towards the outdoor sanctuary and split up to not give the appearance that anything was wrong and that this was nothing more than Steve’s dramatic Sunrise Service entrance.

With the sunrise still some minutes away he hit the lectern and began the service, with surely a sigh of relief from the musician and the worshippers.

As I settled back in my seat next to my wife, in the distance I could hear sirens.

As the sirens in the background began to get louder indicating they were getting closer, once again I leaned over to Kim and whispered: “I hope they aren’t on their way here.”

Within minutes, a fire engine from the Sterling Volunteer Fire Department pulled up to our Sunrise Service.  Apparently a concerned neighbor had reported a fire at the church.   After a brief discussion with the firemen and a few laughs, we were able to finish our service with our fire intact.

At 6:54 a.m. the sun rose.

The sun was now up on Easter Sunday, April 1, 2018.  Our service ended around 7:15 a.m. The fire engine provided the necessary comic relief and the pastor being late for the service was quickly forgotten.  And Pastor Steve, it turned out, was a huge fan of fire engines. All was perfect again.

 

Twice in the last couple of weeks, I have been reminded of the events of Holy Week of 2018.

Kim was going through our Google photos one evening and said “look, here’s a picture of Steve,” as she found some photographs I had taken of the Good Friday service on March 30, 2018.

A few days later, while preparing for a presentation for this year’s Good Friday virtual  “service” I found folded up in one of my Bibles, the instructions for my role in that 2018 Good Friday service.  I was one of the eight readers assisting in the service.  I was reader number four, the eighth and final reader was Steve.

My instructions were “After you read your Scripture, each of you will be helping to ‘strip the Altar’ as the lights in the sanctuary are slowly dimmed.  We have eight items and eight readers…LEAVE THE LAST CANDLESTICK FOR STEVE TO CARRY OUT AS HE LEAVES THE SANCTUARY AFTER THE FINAL READING…Steve will read the eighth and final Scripture and carry the remaining candlestick out of the Sanctuary.

Bell Toll.

Pastor Steve stripping the final item, the candlestick, off the altar and carrying it out of the Sanctuary. Good Friday 2018

Though it was nice reliving those memories from the past, it was a hard reminder that in spite of the chaos of our current crisis that is affecting all of our church services,  Easter at my church wouldn’t have been the same anyway.  My church was broken before the disruption caused by the virus.  Maybe you know because you attend my church, maybe you remember my post from January titled The Stone,  but our pastor who delivered all our sermons for the last four Easter Sundays, Pastor Steve Vineyard, passed away unexpectedly in January of this year.

He would end all of his sermons by saying, “And all God’s people say…”

Only one of those sermons that I know of, was he late for.

Only one I can pretty much bet, featured a real fire engine.

And though all were meaningful to me, I can say, truly one of those sermons was life-changing for my family.

And so, this Easter’s diversion, this Easter’s “fire engine,” is in the form of a virus. On that Easter Sunday in 2018, it was the fire engine that helped us forget that the preacher, who for the only time in his shortened life, was late for a service he was to preach.

For my church, I hope that the arrival of this Easter’s “fire engine”, the Coronavirus, doesn’t have the same result it had two years ago, I hope it doesn’t cause us to forget.

Therefore, let us not allow this virus to help us forget what is really missing from this Easter season.

Because once again,

It’s the preacher.

Pastor Steve.

 

“And All God’s People Say…”

Amen

 

 

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (Matthew 5:8)

Please continue to keep those healthcare workers and their families in your prayers.

Happy Passover and Happy Easter to all.

By the way, the photo above was taken at 6:35 a.m. Easter morning, 2018.  The lectern located between Willis on the guitar and the fire, as you can see, was still vacant at that time.

The arrival of the fire engine.

 

Rollin’ Stone – Would You Like a Lime With That Week Four

Rollin’ Stone – Would You Like a Lime With That Week Four

According to my cool guitar calendar on the wall in my office that I have mentioned before, today is the birthday of Muddy Waters.

Wikipedia refers to Muddy Waters as the “father of modern Chicago blues“, and an important figure on the post-war blues scene. His style of playing has been described as “raining down Delta beatitude.”

A beatitude, a supreme blessedness.

Quite the compliment.

Well, my mother told my father
Just before hmmm, I was born
“I got a boy child’s comin’
He’s going to be, he’s going to be a rollin’ stone
Sure enough, he’s a rollin’ stone
Oh well he’s a, oh well he’s a, oh well he’s a…  (from Rollin’ Stone, Muddy Waters)

Featuring that classic blues chord progression, it’s a great harmonica song.

It is said that the band the Rolling Stones and the magazine Rolling Stone both took their names from this song.

 

I spoke with my brother Gary a week ago and he was prodding me about how I had to keep this corona theme going now that I had started.

I haven’t written a weekly post since 2014.

I had to make a beer run.

 

Things got worse this week.

Some people think this is the end of times.

Some people think it is all part of a grand scheme for Trump to declare Marshall Law and take over the country.

Some people think this is this generation’s 9/11.

I don’t think any of that.

It may be the end of times for some things, like values maybe.

This is a different country than what it was twenty years ago.


Gas is cheap.

But we can’t drive anywhere.

Flights to Florida are $49.

But who wants to fly to Broward County right now?

I mean I do, my little guys are there, but I can’t.

Yesterday I got the email that my June 4 Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit show with David Crosby opening at Wolf Trap Farm Park has been rescheduled to a future yet undetermined date.

That’s okay because maybe that means Kim and I can go to the Kennedy Center.

Oh, they are not open either?

 

Do you remember when guys used to carry a prophylactic in their wallets?

I am carrying a rubber glove folded up in my wallet

You can never be sure when opportunity knocks so you have to be prepared.

Hey, you could be driving down the road and on the next street corner something catches your eye.

That’s it!  I’m doing a U-turn for that one.

$1.69 a gallon?

Yup and  I’ve got my glove on!

 

And speaking of prophylactics.

Every time I see Andrew Cuomo on the TV, I think of how elated he was a little over a year ago as he was celebrating the signing of his new abortion law, and lighting up buildings in New York City pink.

87,325 dead babies in New York (the average number of abortions per year in New York) and you get so excited you light up buildings.

As of last night, New York had 5,489 Coronavirus deaths.

But no lights.

But I guess it’s different.

Well, who knows, without those 87,325 abortions he might be needing 50,000 ventilators right now.

Maybe that was part of his Emergency Preparedness Plan.

Maybe he should run for President.

 

Well, I feel, yes I feel
Feel that I could lay down oh, time isn’t long
I’m going to catch the first thing smoking
Back, back down the road, I’m going
Back down the road, I’m going
Back down the road, I’m going
Sure enough back, sure enough back (from Rollin’ Stone, Muddy Waters)

 

Got the Blues?

Read your Bible.

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday.

The day Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey, the crowds laid down palm branches before him. We begin the holiest week of the year and sadly, we will not be in church.

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”

 

So I began with a “Delta beatitude,” I will end with another beatitude.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (Matthew 5:8)

Keep those healthcare workers and their families in your prayers.

 

 

And if you want to hear a little Muddy Waters playing Rollin’ Stone at the 1960 Newport Jazz Festival, here is a link.