SUNDAY THOUGHTS: CONFRONTATION

Today, I witnessed a nuisance being handled with such wisdom and care.

It was marvelous.

Brilliant. 

Neither a hand, nor volume of voice was raised.

This voice maintained a calm, patient, understanding tone, but was in no way weak.  

It may not have been the method of choice for some people, considering the persistence of the nuisance, but it certainly proved to be the best.

 

In the midst of instruction, on what to do when one is in a desperate situation, a contrary individual decided to abruptly take center stage. 

It couldn't have been more ironic. 

Perhaps alcohol, drugs, or mental challenges were involved, that demanded a more sympathetic stance than a combative one. 

Others wanted to pounce and eject the offender. 

They quickly positioned themselves. 

Frankly, whatever physical tactics they would have employed, would have been understandable and justified. 

The interruption was crass and unruly; highly inappropriate and disrespectful. It deserved to be carried out kicking and screaming. 

As annoying as it was; as much as the nuisance tried to escalate the situation, it was not allowed to prevail. 

I thought that, perhaps, were the atmosphere not so quiet, the nuisance would have simply blended in with any acceptable noise. 

The occasional crying of a baby wasn't disruptive; it didn't hamper progress, but the nuisance was determined to make itself known. 

It was intent on drawing as much attention to itself as possible. 

It lacked finesse or grace. It was loud, profane and angry. It flew in the face of the dignity and sacredness of the situation. Perhaps it challenged it.  

A calmer spirit prevailed, however, and I had such respect for the leadership. 

He'd just stated that, sometimes, desperate situations come as a way for God to bring us back to our knees. The nuisance qualified as a desperate situation, interrupted the carefully crafted program, and inspired unscheduled prayer. 

It also forced everyone to immediately put the points of the message to work:

1. "Think back on our history with God, and recall          his goodness."

2. "Remember how he had blessed us personally."

3. "Amass the necessary resources."

4. "Believe in the power of God."

Considering the nuisance, God's power was sorely needed. Considering our lives, any one of us could have been the nuisance.

The situation was an eye opener, and, fortunately, prepared me for an eerily similar nuisance that met me at my door when I arrived back at home. 

Some people just want to be acknowledged. 

Their lives are so broken, and they don't know how to turn it around. 

Substance abuse, and its deceptive nature, keep them in a constant state of confusion. 

But then, other, supposedly sober people, simply seek to intimidate, inspire fear, bully and provoke confrontation. 

I'm wondering if, sometimes, they are not all one in the same.

 

What everyone really needs is a solid relationship with God. 

More than that, people need to see God in action. They need to see Him in us. 

It's easy to dismiss people, especially when they make a nuisance of themselves. 

It's more difficult to engage in love, when it's easier and more desirable to call 911, distance oneself, ignore, complain--or just punch someone's lights out.

Never let a nuisance fluster you. 

It only THINKS it's in charge. 

Respond incorrectly, and the consequences may be explosive. 

Handled properly, you gain respect points, maintain your composure, keep order--and maybe even win someone over to the bright side.

1 CORINTHIANS 5:8

 Rest in peace, Olivia Swinton and Vesta Williams. I'm grateful that our paths crossed.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: AN INNOCENT MAN?

A stranger is in trouble. 

The problem with most of us, is that we don't know the whole truth about him, or the situation that landed him in prison. 

We can research, and read, and listen to pundits and news reporters, but we are still a bit powerless. 

We have no idea about a person's innocence or guilt. We weren't there. 

All we can respond to, is what we have been told. 

By our opinions, we also prove our ignorance of the law. 

Our hearts and emotions speak louder than anything else. 

We want common sense to prevail. 

What seems like a simple matter is more complicated than we think it should be, and the unwillingness to make things right in our eyes, is infuriating. 

We don't know the particulars. 

We just don't like the idea of an innocent person being punished for something he or she didn't do (especially if that person is one of us --or one of "US"). 

It's not fair, or right, but it's real. 

Racism, injustice, lying, deception, racial profiling, wickedness, and anything else we can associate with the travesty of the day, do exist.

Sometimes we bank on the integrity of people who don't have any. 

Surely, the person who actually committed the crime won't just sit back and do nothing. 

They'll feel horrible, speak up and turn themselves in, won't they?

We want "somebody" to do something. 

We feel helpless. 

We take jabs at the judicial system. 

We don't see what's so difficult about a change of decision. 

We look to leaders--people we think have more clout or importance than we do. Surely, one word from THEM will make a difference, right? 

IS there a federal issue about which the President could ask for an investigation, and halt the execution of Troy Davis? 

Does the Commander-in-Chief have no more options in the matter than the rest of us? 

Is this a job for Superman?

Fact is, we can tweet, and post, and picket, and sign petitions, and call our congressmen and women all day if we like. Will what we do change anything at all? Will we wake up in the morning, shake our collective heads, and read that a man was put to death in spite of all we think we knew, yet could do nothing about?

Is it time to pray?
After He has, once again, proven Himself faithful, we, so often, stop talking to God and resume our regularly scheduled programming. I hope this time, we keep talking--even if it's not an emergency.

"...the "bias against punishment" had its roots in "the most famous of all miscarriages of justice: Christ's crucifixion." ~Alexander Volokh

"...no man, if guilty, is ever acquitted with himself as the judge, though he may have won in the courtroom..." ~Juvenal

"All guilt is punished on earth." ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"SURE it's better to let 10 guilty men go free than to convict an innocent man in the case where the man's REALLY completely innocent" ~R. Park

"If anyone is destined for captivity, to captivity he goes." ~Revelation 13:10

"Keep thee far from a false matter; and the innocent and righteous slay thou not: for I will not justify the wicked." ~Exodus 23:7

"A lamentable condition is that of an innocent man, to whom haste and procedure have found a crime.." ~Jean de La Bruyère

"It would be as pernicious to leave the guilty unpunished as to punish innocent people." ~Renward Garcia Medrano

"Nothing is more easy than thus to philosophize and act the patriot for others." ~Samuel Romilly

"...ideally, the acquittal of 10 guilty persons is exactly 10 times as great a failure of justice as the conviction of one innocent person."

"...my case is exceptional. I'm innocent! We are all exceptional cases. We all want to appeal something!..." ~Albert Camus

"A guilty man punished is an example for the rabble; an innocent man condemned is a matter for all honest people." ~Jean de La Bruyère

"What I want is justice for that one innocent man, but not a free ride for the guilty ones." ~Elsie Tu

"Most Americans would allow a considerable number of guilty persons to go free than to convict any appreciable number of innocent men." ~HJF

"It's better to turn five guilty men loose than it is to convict one innocent man. " ~Thomas Berry Bruce

"It's better for four guilty men to go free, than one innocent man to be imprisoned." ~George Raveling

"American jurisprudence is contradictory and tormented on the subject of guilty men." ~Alexander Volokh

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: BY ANY OTHER NAME

A Twitter follower asked, "What title do you prefer? Inspirational or Gospel Music? Why?"

I couldn't help but wonder. 

What gospel? 

Whose gospel? 

THE Gospel? 

One religious teacher's or lay person's interpretation of the Christian message may be lacking; contrary to God's message concerning Christ, salvation, and His kingdom. 

Linking anything to THE Gospel implies a standard that frankly, some things don't meet.

Call music "gospel", and there's a listener expectation, (a demand, even, if the listener is a churchgoer or Bible student) that reaches beyond the mere making of good music, and searches the message of the music AND the life of the artist, for adherence to Scripture. 

Artists are often given the moniker "minister", "Levite" (or deemed frauds), when it may not be fitting, merited-- or wanted.

You can't back someone into a corner, and insist that they clarify their allegiance to something if they've never taken a stand. 

Perhaps that's why some people won't.

Call music "inspirational" and it's safer. 

It may also be a more honest pronouncement than that of someone who markets something as "gospel", has a plan to use it, but no desire to truly embrace The Gospel. 

Calling music "inspirational" can be vague. 

It can be appreciated by a wider audience. 

It doesn't require a strict commitment to any religious sect, text, belief system, or an actual relationship with God. 

Anyone can say that they received a revelation and share it. 

Anyone can say that they were divinely influenced, inspired, or so moved emotionally or intellectually, that they responded by creating a musical composition. 

None of that necessarily makes the composition "good news" for everyone.

Fortunately "gospel" has a way of side stepping the motives of those who pimp/sponsor/use/misuse it, and is still reaching people all over the world.

TODAY?

September is flying by as if it desperately wants to be over. I forgot something today. I even wrote it down, and STILL it slipped my mind. No. It fell out, rolled down a hill and lodged itself between two boulders behind a large tree in tall weeds.
I declined several invitations in favor, and anticipation of what I was supposed to do today. Today's date never even registered this morning. There was no trigger at all. No phone call, no email, no text message, no reminder. I wasn't supposed to need one. Today's plan has been in the works since May. I feel horrible about it. I'm exploring all kinds of methods to make sure this never happens again, but I was pretty sure I'd done all of the necessary things to remember. Apparently not. Were there unusual factors or sequences of events about THIS time? Does my failure to remember mean that it wasn't important to me? Is my plate too full? Crying didn't help, but I had a good cry for my forgetfulness. Letting down a friend is never the plan. I imagine my name will be "mud" for a while in spite of my past record of remembering. "OMG! Did you hear what she did? She FORGOT! How could she do such a heinous thing?"

I think I'll start reading Joseph T. Hallinan's book, "Why We Make Mistakes". I can understand how this happened. I just don't want to let myself off the hook just yet.
Maybe I should stop saying I'm getting old--even in jest. YESTERDAY, I had that feeling that I should be somewhere. That feeling clearly arrived a day in advance. It should have smacked me upside the head this morning.
It's worse when you don't even have a tragic, understandable excuse. I wasn't sick, no one died, there was no flat tire, traffic, traffic accident, road closing, earthquake, fire or flood. I simply forgot, and forgetting isn't one of those things that usually gets you a sincere, "I understand". Sometimes, you just have to welcome yourself to the human race.
There's some Malcolm Gladwell philosophies at work here somewhere. You really have to consider all of the little things. I could think of all kinds of reasons and scenarios, and what-ifs. It still doesn't change the fact that I can do nothing about it now except feel very badly--and go back to my old habit of writing things down on a very large, strategically placed, and of course, ARTSY wall calendar.
*SIGH*

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: THE VILLAGE DAUGHTERS

I am appreciating and thanking God for my mother, grandmothers, aunts, female teachers--every woman who sowed positive seeds into my life--a little bit more today. 

I am applauding my daughter in such a huge way, too. 

I am so sincerely grateful for God's grace, mercy and protection. 

I am grateful for everything my daughter and I share, even if it's just a hearty laugh.

My heart aches for two moms I don't even know. Two moms who, like me, only wanted the best for their daughters. 

Two moms who worked and sacrificed. 

Two moms who probably bragged about their girls' academic achievement. 

Two moms who hoped their daughters lives would excel beyond their dreams for them; 

Two moms who, perhaps, only wanted their daughters to be able to adequately and effectively take care of themselves, and become upstanding, contributing members of society.

I feel so badly for anyone who has lost a child in ANY manner, at any age--especially to senseless violence.

The Bowie State tragedy is so troubling to me. 

Not too long ago, I too, drove away and left my child on the campus of a university. 

She, too, from time to time, had roommates. 

I don't want to imagine the dangers that were lurking, during her college days, that some responsible, alert, caring adult(s) nipped in the bud on my behalf. (Thank you, Jesus.) 

 When you send your baby to college, you imagine that he or she might not come back home because they landed some cushy, well-paying job in their college's town after graduation--not because he or she was murdered.

I looked at the twitter timelines of both young women, and had to stop. 

I was suddenly reminded, yet again, that I am definitely getting old. 

I wondered exactly when was any school work being done. 

I wondered if dorm monitors/counselors are a thing of the past. 

I wondered if there was any attempt at separating these young women. 

I wondered if there is a conflict resolution component at the university. 

I hoped and prayed that the twitter powers-that-be would take down both pages, so that their mothers wouldn't ever see them; so that news media outlets, that seem to get a lot of their news from social networking sites, would not see them and begin to quote them. 

Too late. 

I hoped that other young women would wake up and realize that their OWN online behavior--what names they choose to call themselves, how they describe themselves, what they say to represent themselves-- was equally degrading, damaging and unwise.

These days warnings and red flags are flying right in our faces, and we aren't paying attention. 

We've dismissed things as harmless; innocent fun; youthful indiscretion; free speech. 

We're afraid to confront, and hesitant to correct. 

We still haven't succeeded in educating some young people that "I'm not hurting anybody but myself" is one of the stupidest statements known to man. 

Troubled people are all around us, publicly crying out for help in varying ways, and our response is often, "Do you", murmuring, or silence. 

The trouble is no longer reserved for, or to be blamed on "da hood".

It's unfortunate when the only, appropriate response SHOULD be sadness and sympathy, but because of your OWN words and behavior, not only is sympathy replaced by suspicion, ridicule, jokes and judgment, but your own words MAY be used to help the case of the person who has done you the greatest, permanent, irrevocable harm.

I have so many random questions.

1. Is ANYONE teaching English grammar and composition,spelling, or principles of speech in schools any more?
2. When did young women become so horribly and happily vulgar and profane?
3. Are we declaring young people mature too soon?
4. Is ANYONE schooling young people of the dangers of irresponsible social networking habits?
5. Are young people aware that their resume is NOT the only thing schools and employers are perusing these days?
6. Are parents checking out, turning a blind eye and deaf ear? Are they computer illiterate?
7. If the whole online world can see your child's social networking site, why can't you, and WHY aren't you saying something?
8. If the supposed best and the brightest are wilding out in real time, at institutions of higher learning, is it time to storm elementary schools and try to reverse the tide?
9. Are we teaching our children that their actions have consequences?
10. Have ALL of us "villagers" dropped the ball?

There's nothing I can do about what has happened except feel the way I do, and pray, I suppose. 

There is something I can do today, and God willing, the rest of my days, in my own community, though. 

I have an adult child, so it may be said that I don't have a dog in the hunt, but I grew up at a time when you technically had one mother, but all of the other mothers--including total strangers-- were like surrogates; not afraid to help you stay on the right path by any means necessary. 

Our daughters have to know that they have potential; they don't have to seek attention by being loud, trifling, foul-mouthed, indiscreet, abrasive, argumentative, combative, defensive, nasty, drunken, etc.

It's one thing for someone else to deliberately try and tell your story to potentially ruin your reputation or shame your name. It's another to tell it yourself in segments of 140 words or less, and potentially mute the good and positive aspects of your own life.

TRIED AND TRUE

Shame on businesses, specifically random phone companies, that deliberately target senior citizens and lure them with promises of lower long distance rates, but respond slowly, ignorantly, or not at all when services fail, need Verizon's help to fix EVERY problem, then stick the trusting seniors with a repair bill that eats away all of the money they were SUPPOSED to have saved as a result of switching FROM Verizon in the first place.
Talk to the senior citizen in your life. Look out for shady creditors among their bills if you can. Though they may have caller ID, many seniors don't bother to check it, and then ignore numbers that most likely belong to slick telemarketers. Even the wisest of our elder family members, friends or acquaintances have been convinced to open their wallets and purses to contribute to hoax charities, or pay for poor products and services. Make sure they haven't been scammed.

I'm all for entrepreneurial spirit, and keeping an eye on monopolies, but if it's supposed to be new and better, then...well...it should be new and better. There are companies and brands that consumers have trusted for years, and new companies and brands know that. If they want your business, they have to be awfully special--provide exceptional service that trumps that to which a consumer has grown accustomed. The thought of saving a few dollars is always a good thing to plant in the mind. It would be nice if quality and good customer service don't have to be sacrificed in the quest to save a few dollars.

THURSDAY THOUGHTS: IN THE MORNING

Although I have always had an appreciation for various musical genres, (and admit I was happily present and singing along at the old Capitol Center, during the festival-style Parliament Funkadelic and Bootsy's Rubber Band concert, back in the 70's), it's official--I'm displaying the tell-tale signs of advanced age. 

My nerves are getting bad, I think. 

I'm losing hip points, and I don't care. 

This morning, if I had been close to the inconsiderate person, I may have forgotten that I am my parent's least confrontational child. 

I'm sorry. 

I have tried, and I know that "hate" is a strong word, but I hate rap. 

Okay. That's too broad. 

Let me put it this way:

I hate the rap that seems to be reserved for car stereo use. 

Whether I am on the road next TO the obviously hearing-impaired driver, as the noise curses everything within a 20 mile radius, or in my home as it miraculously penetrates brick, mortar, and glass, I detest the muffled sound of it. 

It assaults my being like the sound of a really bad automobile collision…involving several vehicles... that back up traffic for miles and hours...and explodes in a ball of fire...and yields multiple fatalities..and makes people run out of gas, so they go insane because they can't hear the person they phoned for help, because the driver in the car behind them is blasting rap. 

UGH.

People who get up in the morning, find THE worse rap music they own, and entertain the neighborhood, as they sit in their cars waiting for the light to turn from red to green, should be jailed for 10 days and forced to listen to ambient music CD's. 

They must know that they are not helping people, like me, find any redeeming quality in what they feel they must so widely share. 

It just rips through the serene morning like a pile driver through asphalt, and obliterates the songs of the birds. I hear no poetry, no rhythm, no harmony, no balance, just the too-loud, harsh, ignorant ramblings of of some seemingly drunken, profane individual(s) who clearly missed a substantial number of weeks from school--especially English, Speech, and Music classes. 

Just because you can talk (barely), and were half awake when your teacher covered rhyming words, does NOT mean you are a rapper. 

Give me Gil Scott-Heron, Curtis Blow, James Brown, even, but this disgusting noise that is masquerading for music, gets on my nerves, and in my opinion has contributed to the dumbing down of a lot of young people. 

I'm so afraid that so many people have no idea what constitutes good music, nor how to make it. 

I know. It's subjective, but still, I feel so bad for someone who chooses to fill their waking moments with vulgarity and profanity wrapped up in repetitive, poorly produced noise. 

Music, like books, reflect values. There's got to be a better way for young people to see themselves so that they don't embrace the worse, most pitifully base representations.

It's official. I am getting old.

Wait.

What’s that?
Oh, thank God. 

The birds are back.

THURSDAY THOUGHTS: USERS

The longer the intervals between its use, the more difficult it is to notice that there is a pattern- a game in play; a con even. 

When you DO see it, pay attention and, in the words of almost every church clerk, "Govern yourselves accordingly". 

Folk will use you if you let them. 

Take note of the things for which your participation is not considered, the things you're asked to do, and the things from which you are excluded. 

Take note of the times it was clear that you were valued, and the times when it was obvious you had been used.

Big or small, snakes have the same approach. 

They're hoping you don't see them, before they see you. 

Even if you do decide to engage, or befriend one, you have to remember they're still a snake.

It's amazing how people, who are very business-like about THEIR business, and demand and require that others follow proper channels when seeking THEIR services, suddenly want to send standards, practices, and costs plummeting to the ground when they seek the services of others. 

They wouldn't do anything out of the kindness of their hearts if you paid them. 

They wouldn't volunteer, or lend a hand if their lives depended on it, but they DO know how to reach out for freebies and favors if the alternative means depleting their OWN resources to the same tune of what they think THEY are worth.

After a while you'll really get sick and tired of the faces and voices of people who always seem to seek you out when they want something for nothing.

Every now and then, you just have to appreciate caller ID.

IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

I had such a pleasant time at Congress Heights Senior Wellness Center today. 

I took the bus, and was a little ashamed that I had no idea how much the fare was. The bus driver actually laughed, and looked at me as if I had just been returned to earth by space aliens. I guess it WAS funny and odd. Maybe I AM the only person in all of far SE/SW who didn't know. It has been a few years since I've taken public transportation, and although I am well aware that it is THE most convenient way to travel in DC, I will call Yellow Cab in a heartbeat. Hearing that the fare was only a dollar surprised me. I was all prepared to shell out at least $2.50.

It was a short, but nostalgic ride to the center. I'm glad that there were no taxis available--today anyway. I smiled as I passed the street where I lived as a child, and Ft. Carroll Market--the corner store that was our source for Now and Laters and Rainblow Bubble gum. 

The ride reminded me of how much I used to enjoy taking the A-8 to 10th and Pennsylvania Avenues when I was younger. It also reminded me of the shock I experienced at 18 when my parents decided to become suburban and there was no beloved Metrobus in sight. 

I HAD to learn how to drive. That's probably when my love affair with bus rides took a nose dive, I guess. 

I suppose I have CHSWC to thank for reigniting the flame. Clearly, nothing kept the seniors from getting to the center.

The ladies in the Art class were so delightful, and they were waiting patiently for me. Once we got started, they dove right in, choosing colors and deciding whether they wanted their still life to be vertically or horizontally placed. Watching them create made me smile. They're doing all the work, really. I feel like I'm just a cheerleader. 

It's good to see people still embracing skills they learned in elementary school. It's even better to be in an environment where people actually want to learn.

None of them had ever used oil pastels before, but they jumped right in, and created some of the most beautiful images. I think I'll make a Shutterfly photobook for them.

There's so much in the community that constant bad press threatens to keep people from ever knowing of, embracing, or exploring. The wellness center is a jewel in the neighborhood I've always loved, and such a wonderful resource for the seasoned citizens of Ward 8.

A late lunch at Uniontown Bar really emphasized the need to bring more attention to the positive things around us. The meal was delicious. Everything is not blighted and unwelcoming; negative or repulsive.
One just has to get out and find the good. 

It's definitely there...: )

"WE" WON?

I've heard and read examples of exuberance that, once again, reveal that some milestones are perceived as odd or exceptional. Will they ever be the rule? Will they ever just be normal, regular, matter-of-fact occurrences that certainly deserve notice, but happen all of the time? Are we still playing catch-up, not only in society, but in our own minds?
Funny. When you're suddenly celebrated in places where you were once reviled; welcomed in places where you were once banned; elevated to heights at which you were deemed too ignorant, unsuited, or not good enough to reach, for a moment you forget all about the past, hope expands, and the future seems bright. Someone or some organization has suddenly, often reluctantly decided, for whatever reason that you're okay. You can play. You can come on in. You can have a shot at that to which "they" have had easy access all along. The first misstep you make, however, is not only an indictment of you, but a reason for a sarcastic "I told you so"; a reason to revert to the historic practice of excluding you and people like you. What you don't know is that the minute you enter the game, the rules don't change, they just don't apply to you. You have a different set of rules that count on you forgetting all about integrity, positive ethics and values, and honesty. You have to remember that every elevation; every platform is not good. Some are mere experiments and the bets are against you. You have to know that, sometimes, open doors are politically, or economically motivated. It's a shame when you've been excluded so long that you become skeptical about taking a step through, or up.

A victory for one person of color, no matter where they are from, has for a long time been embraced as a victory for ALL people of color. One person does something good or newsworthy, and we all seem to own it as if we had a direct hand in it. We act as if the celebrated person is a long lost cousin. It's like we all yell, "See? We're worthy! We're beautiful! We're human!" as if we didn't know it before. We're shocked, and in complete awe when one of "our" names is called. Perhaps the shock is understandable. This is of course, America.
We don't pay attention to some things--don't even KNOW about them-- until one of us is brave enough to get involved and share information that was never actually hidden. When one of "us" wins; when one of "us" attains a coveted place, all of our eyes focus, not only on their specific ability, but their very lives. Then we watch with anxiety as the chosen one moves through the new/old territory, praying that no scandalous information surfaces. We pray they don't do anything stupid to embarrass or shame the rest of us, and send us 222 steps backward. Why is that? We raise politicians, celebrities, athletes, and people with varying talents to super human status. We then, maybe without intending to, strip them of their humanity. We have so much to prove to "them" that we heap the weight of our systematically attained poor self worth on the shoulders of anyone who seems to have achieved success. Instead of knowing ourselves that we are, and have always been capable, worthy, and valuable, we often wait to be validated by someone else who is neither the source nor the catalyst of our abilities. We have been so conditioned to believe we have not arrived until we infiltrate arenas that were once stringently reserved for others, that we fail to properly celebrate, appreciate and promote the great things that occur every single day in our communities.

A TASTY MESS

I noticed it yesterday, was a little tired and decided to tackle it today. I adjusted the temperature and lifted the ice maker arm in the meantime. Where did it come from? I started taking out the meat and vegetables. All the way in the back was an empty bottle.
I was suddenly compelled to taste a piece of the mounds of frozen slush that had accumulated all of a sudden. I plucked off one of the three long icicles that hung from the door shelf. It was slightly sweet. Citrus-y even. Yeah. I considered it, but didn't think it would be right or mature to stand at the freezer with a spoon.
Well, the good news is that the frost-free refrigerator that I wasn't at all happy about having to defrost, is in fact frost-free, and NOT in need of costly repair or replacement. The bad news is that plastics are definitely not as sturdy as they used to be. They're brittle, thin, and awfully noisy when you try to collapse them. Though the bottom of the bottle is completely cracked and could be used as a weapon, the cap and seal are still intact.
The bottle apparently burst, sending it sailing off of the shelf and shooting Sprite zero all over the freezer. Then, overnight, it slowly created a winter wonderland all over the freezer walls. I really wanted that Sprite-zero.
I probably needed water anyway.

SO MUCH TALENT

Contests are designed specifically to accommodate one winner--and even then the winning position may soon prove not be particularly worth coveting. Every presented platform/pedestal elevates, but the position is not always safe, genuine or honorable. Not everyone is admiring, applauding, encouraging or mentoring. Some are ridiculing, using, exploiting, and damaging. Be careful about what you allow yourself to be sucked into. Be careful where you allow others to put you, and whose words you embrace as expert or truth. Many people have given up doing what they love because of the discouraging, unsubstantiated or critical words of a single person who had as about as much right , authority, experience or talent to judge the work of others as a dead squirrel did.
Be more careful about where you put yourself, and what your motives are for being there.
Schemes borne out of desperate ambition or impatient desire for perceived success, have a tendency to backfire. They can also bring one back to reality. Platforms designed to profit everyone except the individual perched upon them are fragile, temporary, and potentially paralyzing and heartbreaking.
Starting over, developing patience, improving one's ability, being true to oneself, and trusting God are all very good things. Whose approval you believe you can't do without will greatly affect how, where, and when you perform. Just because the route is there doesn't mean it's the only one you can take to get where you want to go--no matter how quickly you perceive the clock to be ticking. If you DO take the road, getting misleading directions along the way doesn't mean you have to cancel the whole trip.

SOMEONE'S DAUGHTER

I had a great time recording with keyboardist and worship leader, Kim Jordan yesterday. I was feeling grateful that I have the opportunity to do what I love. 

Kim even had two little girls and a little boy to come in to record vocals. 

They were so excited. They were very polite, respectful, brimming with promise. It was delightful to watch them utilizing their talents. Someone had encouraged them; given them an opportunity; taken an interest. When they found out they would get paid for the session, they were shocked. They had just been having fun. For them, it wasn't work at all. Who knows how yesterday's experience impacted them and their choices for their future?

It was nice to get a call from my daughter while I was working with Kim, learn that she was nearby, and be able to ride home together. We stopped for a bite, chatted, and through it all I (once again) greatly appreciated the thoughtful daughter I've been blessed to have. 

We had options for the evening, but decided against them, and headed home.

It's getting cooler these days, and it was nice to be in out of the rain last night. I learned the hard way, years ago, that night air is not a friend to my voice. 

The plan was to make a nice cup of tea and watch a little TV before turning in. I hadn't long finished my meal before I heard the sound of fire engines. Something was going on outside, but I didn't make any effort to investigate. The knock on the door made it necessary to get dressed again and evacuate the building. Talk of a possible gas leak made me move a little faster than normal.

When we got outside, it occurred to me that it was the first time I'd seen all of my neighbors at the same time. Everybody shared the same sentiment of having been happy, safe, warm, and definitely in for the evening. Standing outside in the drizzle in varying stages of in-for-the-evening dress hadn't been the plan. One neighbor said that the knock on her door had cut her prayer time short. 

No one was anxious to be in public. 

As we headed down the hill to join other neighbors where the fire engines were parked, I saw a young woman leaning against the fence. I wasn't sure if she was talking on a cell phone, or just waiting for someone. She didn't have an umbrella, and wasn't dressed for the weather. My first instinct was that something was wrong, but I ignored my instinct and listened to the voice that said, "If there's a gas leak, maybe you should keep it moving."

The whole ordeal, the evacuation, waiting for Washington Gas workers, the inspections, and the heavy rain, lasted a little over an hour. Heading back inside, I noticed the young woman was still there. Everyone, including me, had ignored her; overlooked her. Maybe we all assumed she was okay. I shuddered when it occurred to me that she had been outside long before the evacuation, and fate brought her to our gate. 

Maybe she was our assignment.

I went inside and called 911. I got a blanket and went back outside. She was no longer standing, but lying in a fetal position on the sidewalk. I watched to see if her back was heaving and prayed she was alive. When the police and fire department crew arrived, it was clear that she was no stranger to some of them. They were assessing whether she was high, injured, or sick. She had no ID. She was unresponsive. She was drunk.

All I kept thinking was that she was someone's daughter. I thought about the two little girls who'd been at Kim's studio. I was so sure that at some point in her life, this young woman had been cared for by someone, too. I was so happy when the ambulance arrived and she was placed on a stretcher. She'd be warm, now, and on her way to getting help.

All day, I've wondered who she is, and if she's okay. 

All day, I've been grateful for my own daughter; for my mother; for every wise person who cared enough to pay attention to a young me. 

I don't think I'll ever forget the young woman's face, her disheveled hair, and soaking wet clothes. What happened that made her choose to drink herself in such a stupor that a cold sidewalk would be her bed for the night? 

I admired the DC Fire, Police and EMT employees for showing compassion toward her. 

I pray she's okay.

THURSDAY THOUGHTS: SOUND CHECK BLUES

Imagine singers walking into an ice cold auditorium. They're not preparing to stay very long. 

It's not the actual performance. 

It's a routine sound check. 

It should be a piece of cake.
Someone says, "They're not ready."
"They're still setting up."
"They don't have enough microphones."
"The ceiling is too high."
"The ceiling is too low."
"There aren't enough monitors."
"There's a hum somewhere."
"There's too much feedback."
"It's too loud."
"It's too low."
"Turn it up."
"Turn it down."
"It'll sound better when the room fills up."
"Who made this stuff? Fisher Price?"
"That wasn't in the rider."
"I never got the rider."
"Something is going in and out."
"It sounded fine a minute ago."
"Can you hear?"
"What happened?"
"Is this on?"
"Is there a Radio Shack nearby?"
"Keep talking."
"It's not on."
"Do they have to be so loud?"
"Are you singing? I can't hear you."
"It's cold in here."
"Are you all finished? We have to open the doors."

Somebody has to go and get some crucial piece of hardware, known only by its complicated numbered/lettered name. 

Abbreviations and sound engineer lingo is flying all over the place. 

Everybody is an expert, and knows all the fancy terms to use, and the latest technology, but the sound is still lousy. 

Everybody knows what to do, but no one is doing it. It's not even a little bit funny. 

There's lots of talking, and tuning, and yelling OVER the talking and tuning, while the cold sucks the life out of your throat, and you STILL can't hear the person standing right next to you. 

Beeeeep!!! 

Boooooop!!! 

Hummmmmmmmmm.....Silence. 

Good times. 

*Sigh*

How necessary is "sound check"--that shouldn't-take-all-day event, that so often reveals just how much some event planner/coordinator cares about the quality of the music/speaking an audience will hear? The weird, frustrating instances when the sound you hear (or DON'T hear) during a performance, is NOTHING like it was at sound check, makes you wonder if sound check is a nothing more than a colossal waste of time and energy, or an opportunity for the event photographer to capture Facebook pics, or yet another YouTube-bound video of exhausted performers wearing their street clothes.

I'm no expert, but I have ears. 

I'm beginning to think that some people just don't care. Could it be that excellent sound is simply not a priority in some places; that a SKILLED sound engineer is perceived as a bit of a threat; that not enough effort is made to enlist the help of someone who KNOWS how to fix what ails a venue's sound issues, and/or effectively train the designated volunteer engineer(s).
Is it so difficult to allow someone who knows what to do to help, so that the WHOLE thing won't suffer? 

Is it better to make excuses so that a thing won't EVER get better? 

Sometimes, it's not about what supposedly goes along with the territory, but what has been accepted as the norm, because no one will challenge or change it. 

Sometimes, people who DO challenge a thing, in an effort to make it better, right, or more effective, get thrown under the bus. 

It's infuriating to watch a competent person trying to rectify a situation, and having to deal with an insecure person who won't listen, perpetuates mediocrity, and refuses to either be taught, or get out of the way. 

God forbid someone finds out you're not doing your job as well as it CAN be done. 

Ears have been testifying for a long time:
"We know ya'll were singing. Too bad we couldn't hear you."
"The music was just too loud."
"We were right up front, and couldn't hear a thing."
"We could hear so-and-so, but that's all."
"We didn't hear anything until the second half of the program."
"It was painful, so I left."

FOR DISCUSSION:

1. Do some sound engineers see people heading for instruments and microphones, and decline to use that as a clue to at least turn the power on?
2. Is there some childish, power-tripping spirit that makes some sound engineers unbelievably rude, short tempered, impatient, and sarcastic?
3. Ever get the feeling that more attention is placed on the power and visibility of the position than the proper operation of the equipment?
4. Why do sound checks NEVER begin on time, and involve a lot of sitting around and searching for basic equipment that should be in place?
5. Why, when you leave some sound checks, do you have a funny feeling that some sound engineers have no idea what they're doing?
6. Why do people spare no expense for EVERYTHING else, but skimp on sound equipment for an event?
7. Why should an artist's first song (even second or third song) be treated like the subject of an impromptu science project?
8. Why are people who are not musical, making decisions that involve music?
9. When the regular engineer sees a guest engineer, is that a signal to throw a tantrum and sabotage the sound?
10. Is there not some tape, or a sharpie, or SOMETHING that can be used to mark the board so that time won't be spent during an entire concert playing with knobs, buttons and levers?
11. If all of the microphones are the same, is it possible NOT to hear that one sounds much better than another, and fix that?
12. Can NO ONE hear when the band is overpowering the singers so much so, that they may as well leave the stage and help the ushers?
13. Some people have mastered balance and excellence in venues large and small, on equipment expensive and not so expensive. Is it a skill that is only for a few?
14.How long are buildings going to be blamed for poor sound?

Just wondering.

Oh. One more thing--
Sometimes, a title, or self-perceived importance is not nearly as welcomed as a person's ability and attention to making sure things are as they should be.
Everyone is not familiar with the venue of choice. It's not unusual for someone to use the first door they see, especially if there's no one there to tell them otherwise. 

Event planners should really make sure the overzealous bullies they assign to the door to keep PAYING patrons out, are familiar with the guest of the evening. 

"Oh, I didn't know who you were. I'm just doing my job." is a sorry, inexcusable reply often spoken after one has been horribly rude to the performers who merely showed up for sound check.

Sound matters. Hire the competent. They DO exist.