37. Lunch Order
Sydney’s lunch order:
- Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
- apple slices
- carrots and dip
- and, if you happen to stop at McDonalds, some french fries would be nice.
Sydney’s lunch order:
I’m a relatively consistent crossfitter/P90x-er. I’m not a fundamentalist/legalist when it comes to these workouts, so I don’t really do everything exactly as prescribed or when prescribed, but I have followed Tony Horton fairly consistently (at leas the workouts–screw the diet; eating “whey” is for commies) through a couple of almost 90 day sessions. I almost never do Kenpo. I rarely do the entire YogaX workout. But I like the program and the workouts work.
I started attempting some of the named crossfit workouts last summer and fell in love the high intensity of crossfit. I’ve never fallen in love with Olympic lifting, mostly because Olympic lifting and I haven’t really had a first date. Nor do I have the equipment at home to do them.
I know crossfit is designed to be done as a community, but my problem is the crossfitters at BC crossfit right when I’m playing basketball, and the reason I would do crossfit is to maximize my enjoyment of basketball, not because I have some desire to become a superstar at the crossfit games. Excuses aside, I actually enjoy working out alone.
All that to say I did the P90x chest and back workout plus ab ripper x this morning. I wonder if I’ve done this particular workout fifty times yet? I wouldn’t be surprised. I did it for the first time back in August of 2007. I bet I’ve done it at least a dozen times a year since then. If you follow the 90-day program you do this workout five times in 90 days. I have not been through the 90 day program ten times, of course, but this is probably one of my favorite of the routines, thus my wondering about the 50 times in a little less than five years.
So what does tomorrow hold? Were I following the 90-day program, tomorrow would be Plyometrics. It’s a great workout. But I think I’m going to to a 15 minute interval set on the jump-rope and maybe some yoga and then shoot some hoops. Maybe watch an episode of the X-Files on dvr while riding the stationary bike.
See–not a legalist.
1. Someone named Adele won a bunch of Grammy awards the other night. I did not watch the show. I had never heard of this person until the next morning when they mentioned she won a bunch of awards.
2. I am a professor of English. Consider the so-called “classics” I’ve never read. This is not an exhaustive list.
Interviewer: Dostoevski, who dealt with themes accepted by most readers as universal in both scope and significance, is considered one of the world's great authors. Yet you have described him as "a cheap sensationalist, clumsy and vulgar." Why?
VN: Non-Russian readers do not realize two things: that not all Russians love Dostoevski as much as Americans do, and that most of those Russians who do, venerate him as a mystic and not as an artist. He was a prophet, a claptrap journalist and a slapdash comedian. I admit that some of his scenes, some of his tremendous, farcical rows are extraordinarily amusing. But his sensitive murderers and soulful prostitutes are not to be endured for one moment-- by this reader anyway.
I do not understand “gaming.” At all. And I don’t care.
Perhaps that’s how they–the obsessive gamers–feel about literature, sitting in the back of the classroom daydreaming about the gaming they are missing out on while they’re stuck in class.
1. Playing shortstop in a fastpitch game on a 70 degree Saturday in June.
2. Eating a giant brisket and sausage sandwich and washing it down with a monstrously huge coke.
3. Walking in the woods with Morgan–his legs restored to perfection.
Instead, I’m grading. Nothing that horrible about grading. It’s just not as much fun as the above, or about three hundred other things I could list if I didn’t need be grading.
A Meeting
by Wendell Berry
In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: “How you been?"
He grins and looks at me.
“I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees.”
One thing I appreciate about the prayer is that Merton doesn’t make bold promises to God; instead, he says “I hope."
I think I will continue to pray this prayer. I hope my student’s will, too.
My students seemed to deeply appreciate this prayer from Thomas Merton’s “Thoughts in Solitude.” It is sometimes called the “Prayer of Abandonment.” I like it, too.
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain
where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and that I think I am following your will
does not mean I am actually doing so.
But I believe
the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire
in all I am doing.
I hope
I will never do anything
apart from that desire.
And I know if I do this
you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.
I will trust you always
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear,
for you will never leave me
to face my perils alone.
If it were solely up to me, this quote would appear on all of our English department promotional literature. I realize what students and parents want to know when they consider a college major is far more utilitarian, and I can probable make some reasonable claims about the utility and uses of literature, but for me, the reason to choose an English major has far more more to do with pleasure than with anything else."My Lord Alcinous, what could be finer
Than listening to a singer of tales
Such as Demodocus, with a voice like a God's?
Nothing we do is sweeter than this--
A cheerful gathering of all the people
Sitting side by side throughout the halls,
Feasting and listening to a singer of tales,
The tables filled with food and drink,
The server drawing wine from the bowl
And bringing it around to fill our cups.
For me, this is the finest thing in the world."
-Odysseus, Odyssey Book 9
In my top ten coolest reggae songs of all time.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rb13ksYO0s&w=420&h=315]
Gosh I miss Jamaica sometimes.
At Bethel we have what are called “FYE” (Freshmen Year Experience) blocks–two courses blocked in a single time slot on Tuesday and Thursday of the fall semester that two professors teach teach. Cristian and I teach FYE together. FYE is a sort of a misnomer because it only runs the first semester. Nevertheless, since the program was begun eighteen years ago it has had a fairly dramatic impact on student retention and has enriched the overall Bethel experience. While it is not a unique program–there are many similar across the country–it is one of the things that makes the Bethel experience unique.
Often at the end of the semester our students have expressed their sadness that the block experience ends with the semester. More times than I can count, students have told me during second semester that they “miss block."
We’ve been thinking a lot about SYE (Sophomore Year Experiences) that might build upon the FYE. There are many things that could be done, but lets just say that at our institution curricular changes don’t come easy. One day driving into school I had a brainstorm about a way to “reconnect” with my block during second semester that wouldn’t require any curricular change. All it would require would be permission to meet one day per week during chapel (for chapel credit) during the second semester of sophomore year. The VP for Student Enrichment liked the idea and gave our block permission to give it a trial run.
So yesterday Cristian and our two “block mentors” (Karli and Cassie–the best FYE student mentors in the history of the program) started brainstorming together about what this thing might look like. We set a launch date, came up with a name (“B7 Reconnect”–FYE Block 7, reconnecting on many levels), talked about how to generate excitement about it, and discussed themes and topics that might be most helpful to sophomore’s in college–something in the general neighborhood of life calling or vocation and our identity in Christ without using such tired and over-used lingo as that. Anyhow, I’m looking forward to the many layers of “reconnection” that may be possible in a setting that is as “un-classlike” as possible.
I love my work. It’s the place God has called me–as Buechner says, it’s the place where (my) deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.
p.s. This song just started on my Last FM reggae station, and I’ve been singing it to my wife. :-)
[youtube www.youtube.com/watch
Free to good home: two knees afflicted with mild patelar tendonitis from years of basketball. As a bonus, I’m willing to throw in two achilles heels with chronic bursitis and two arthritic ankles. Left heel has noticable haglund’s deformity.
Sometimes in the middle of the day I have to break the monotony of checking things off my “to do” list, take a walk over to the gym, and make 150 shots.
And then I can go back to checking things off my “to do” list and it doesn’t seem so tedious anymore.
Just finished making 150 shots. Just checked “write blog entry” off my “to do” list. Next item on my “to do” list: “Make new ‘to do’ list.”
I’m considering the pros and cons of a standing desk or stand-up desk.
Pro: No more sore rear end.
Con: Potentially sore feet.
Pro: Novelty. First person in my office wing to have one.
Con: Weirdo. First person in my office wing to have one.
Pro: Apparantly standing is better for your back.
Con: My back is in relatively good shape compared with my ankles and achilles heels.
Pro: Might be able to get rid of my current really ugly desk.
Con: Current really ugly desk weighs slightly less than a dump truck.
Pro: I like to read and write standing up.
Con: I would have to purchase ($) and assemble the stupid thing.
Pro: Would have to reorganize office.
Con: Would have to reorganize office.
Decision: Undecided.
The best thing about crossfit is that you can invent your own crossfit workout and call it a crossfit workout. Here’s the one I invented and then did today.
100 rep. jump ropes
10 wall ball shots with 25# ball
10 pull-ups
10 jump-knee tucks (a move borrowed from p90x)
10 sumo high pulls with 30 pood kettlebell
As many rounds as possible (AMRAP) in 15 minutes.
Exhausting. Felt great!
I read this short story–very short story, really–by Raymond Carver yesterday, and now I can’t get it out of my head. It is quintessentially minimalist, and yet it managed to grab me at a gut level with its raw emotion. The story is called “Little Things” (read it now!!). It is getting dark outside, and inside, too–where a couple fights as he packs his bags. He wants to take the baby. She refuses him. They struggle physically, pulling at the baby, trying to pry the child from one another’s arms. The story ends ambiguously: “But he would not let go. He felt the baby slipping out of his hands and he pulled back very hard. In this manner, the issue was decided.” As I read, Carver managed to make me feel for this couple, even though I’ve no idea what “little thing” has caused them to be so furious with one another. And I felt for this little thing–this child caught in the middle, pulled two directions, somehow certainly harmed by the actions of these two wounded people.
I guess I am reminded that there are little things that, over time, become–or will become–big things.
Ya, I’m the guy who listens to “Keane” radio while he tries to think of something to blog about. At least today I’m that guy.
It’s not really working for me. In fact, all it’s really doing right now is delaying me from what I could be doing: shoveling the drive, riding the stationary bike and watching a rerun of the X-Files (ya, I’m the guy who watches reruns of the X-Files 3 or 4 times a week while riding bike), or grading some papers.
So what I’m saying is that “Keane” radio on Last FM isn’t really “muse” music–it doesn’t much inspire creativity, as you are plainly witnessing right now. Allow me to change the channel and let’s observe what happens.
There. “Elton John” radio. “Your Song.”
Kind of makes me feel like writing a blog entry called “Your Blog."
“I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind
that I put down into words
how wonderful life is
while you’re in the world."
That didn’t really inspire anything much after all, I guess. Next song…
“Maggie May” by Rod Stewart.
That reminds of a summer job I had after my freshmen year of college. I cleaned the floors at the Kroger at Broadmoor Plaza in South Bend, six nights a week from 11 p.m. - 5 a.m. I would dust mop, then scrub, then buff, then dust mop again. It didn’t take six hours, usually, but my boss wanted me to put in six hours. So I did. Once a week they would shut the store down for three hours and I would wax the floors.
One of the night cashiers there was named Maggie–maybe thirty, thin, light brown hair, pretty smile. Nice. I remember one night this song came on the radio that softly played throughout the store all night. One of the guys who stocked shelves started singing, and before long, all five of the guys who stocked shelves made their way to the front of the store, belting the song at the tops of their lungs at her, to her great embarrassment. Only two of them really knew the lyrics, and none of them could sing.
It was beautiful. I scraped stickers off the floor in the produce section, and smiled to myself. Smouched (Huck Finn’s word for “stole”) one of those ginormous gumballs from the bulk food section, and hummed along.
Thank you Last FM. I’d forgotten.
It’s “Gold Rush” time.
I’m not the biggest TV buff I know, but I do kinda dig Discovery Channel’s reality show, “Gold Rush.” Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, but each week I watch the show hoping these guys hit the motherload somewhere deep in the bowels of Quartz Creek, Alaska. Instead, I watch for an hour and discover that when it comes to gold mining, if it can break down, fall apart, or go wrong–it will. The show could be called “A Series of Frustrating Events.” So why do I like this?
I’ll never be a gold miner. I’ll never know what it is really like to rough it in the Alaskan wilderness. I’ll never drive gargantuan dump trucks, dozers, or front end loaders. But the show does give the impression that its showing us a little of what it might be like to mine gold. It’s intoxicating. It’s maddening. It’s enough to make you thankful that no matter how bad of a day you’re having, you probably didn’t have as many things go wrong as these guys did in any one hour show.
Yesterday I quoted from Rasselas. Might as well go for it again, since it seems relevant here. Prince Rasselas is bored in the Happy Valley–bored because he has everything he wants. While it might seem like happiness is getting everything you want, the prince points out that he is unhappy precisely because he has nothing to struggle for, nothing to strive after, nothing to desire. Rasselas says, “I fancy that I should be happy if I had something to pursue."
I like this TV show because these guys are relentlessly pursuing gold. I’m not all that interested in relentlessly pursuing gold, myself. But I do know that we all need something to pursue. Every week I watch them endure disappointment after disappointment, and only occasionally a small triumph or a glimmer of hope. And yet they press on. They seem happy. I think it’s because they have something to pursue. I need something to pursue, too.
So I keep on the lookout for little things that might awaken me from my contented slumber, and I pursue them. A hundred free throws in a row. Thirty unbroken pull-ups. A doctorate. A new humanities major. 350 blog entries in a year–one a day with a reasonable assumption that there will be a dozen or so days when I’m somewhere with no Internet connection. The entire Bible in 6 months. That sort of thing.
There is that inevitable let down once you’ve reached some goal. If these guys strike it rich by the end of the mining season, the show won’t be quite the same for me any more. I hope they do, but I also know that if they do, that’s the end of the show. I’ll make a hundred free throws in a row again someday soon. Then what? Do it again. Hit 50 3 pointers in a row. Who knows. I just know I’m the kind of person who is happiest struggling and striving my way towards something. Kind of like the guys on “Gold Rush,” I guess. Call it restlessness if you want, but it beats the boredom of happy valley.
"Nothing," replied the artist, "will ever be attempted, if all possible objections must first be overcome." (Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson)One my strengths--at the very least according to the StrengthsQuest assessment--is "strategy." I tend to be a visionary and a strategic thinker, I like imagining possibilities, and dreaming about what could be. But another of my strengths is "context"--meaning I "look back." I look back because that's where answers lie. I tend to see the past as something of a blueprint for life as I move forward. The past provides me with a frame of reference.
Every semester I have to come up with some new idea for a literature seminar. Every semester I agonize over this decision–over choosing a topic to spend fifteen weeks with, over finding something that I’ll be energized enough by to enjoy and to facilitate, and something that maybe a few students will find interesting enough to want to explore together. I’m not as successful in my choices as I’d like to be, and sometimes I’m surprised by the responses. There have even been times when I’ve feltl like something wasn’t going so well, but it turned out by the end of the semester the students were expressing much more appreciation than I could had sensed throughout the term.
1 small bag of doritos
4 miniature reeses peanut butter cups
1 half glass of pink lemonade
9 baby carrots with ranch dip
Two thirds of a miniature ice cream sandwich
and… some baked goldfish crackers
She has put in a request for for mama to pick her up a “slurpee” on her way home from her meeting.
Ok. So am I a good papa for insisting that she eat some carrots–as if they would counterbalance all that garbage and ease my conscience a bit? Don’t answer.
I do remember the feeling of being half starved at the end of a school day. I remember in middle and high school going home finally after a practice close to dinner time feeling woozy, grumpy, with a splitting hunger headache far too many times. I can’t imagine that as the healthiest way of existence, either. I don’t feel so bad that a famished little girl ate a bunch of junk food this afternoon. I suppose a peanut butter sandwich on whole grain bread, an organic apple, and some of those baby carrots might be a snack Dr. Oz would want my daughter eating, but I also don’t think she’s taken any years off her life today by eating all this junk. And she’s happy as a lark. :-)
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHcP4MWABGY&w=420&h=315]
I’ve seen them perform this song in concert five times, now, and every time its felt like the Kingdom was upon us.
"My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." (Mt. 26:38)
"Through the prism of my tears I have seen a suffering God. It is said of God that no one can behold his face and live. I have always thought this meant that no one can see his splendor and live. A friend said perhaps this meant that no one could see his sorrow and live. Or perhaps his sorrow is his splendor." (Nicholas Wolterstorff)Did Judas see this face in the garden that night? Not only did he see it, he kissed it. But did he truly "see" it? That's a question that haunts me. How could Judas live, gazing into the face of one overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Perhaps Judas saw the splendor of God--sorrow--and he could not live. This, of course, doesn't justify Judas' actions.