Golden Anniversary

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

~ William Shakespeare

Renewal of Vows for Marion W. & David J. Carriker
Led by our brother The Rev. Bruce L. Carriker
Someone once said that the only thing required for a marriage to work is two people too stubborn to give up on each other. Anyone who has known Dave and Marion for any length of time knows they both have a stubborn streak. And we're here tonight because, for fifty years, they've been too stubborn to give up on each other.

The 13th Chapter of Paul's 1st Epistle to the Corinithians is often read at weddings. It is a challenge and a charge to newlyweds, laying out what love requires. But, when we read it tonight, not for newlyweds, but for a couple renewing their vows after fifty years together, we read it as a testimony to their life together; an explanation for how they've made it this far:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is slow to anger and quick to forgive; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

There is a scene in the movie Parenthood where the husband, whose marriage is going through a rough patch, is talking to his grandmother; and the grandmother says this:

“You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster.
Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride! I always wanted to go again!
You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all at the same time!
Some didn't like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing to it.
I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.”

Dave and Marion will both agree that their marriage has been a lot more like a roller coaster, than merry-go-round. But, they're here tonight to say, in front of all of us, “Oh, what a ride! I want to go again!”

(Dave, Marion join hands. David first, then Marion.)

(Marion/David), 50 years ago I promised to love you, honor you, comfort you, and keep you;
To be by your side in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for the rest of our lives.
Together, we have created a family, a home, and a lifetime of shared memories.
Today, in the presence of God, our family, and our friends, I affirm to you that I love you more now than I did then; that all those promises are still true; and that I will be here for you, for the rest of my life.

Prayer: Gracious and loving God,
We give you thanks for fifty years of blessing Dave and Mation's life together; for the love, joy, strength, support and happiness they have brought to one another; and to those of us lucky enough to be their family and friends.

We ask your continued blessing on them, individually, and in the life they have built together and will continue to build together, all the days of their lives.

You May Kiss the Bride!

The Least Important Day

In observation of Groundhog Day, my childhood friend and neighbor Rebecca Sprigg provided a facebook prompt: "If you had to live one day of your life over and over again, what day would you choose, and why?"

Becky had the movie Groundhog Day in mind, but I was immediately reminded of Thornton Wilder's Our Town. This play is dear to my heart -- as you can see above from the leading quotation of this blog -- and has been ever since way back in 1973, when my brother Bruce portrayed the character of George. Bruce, of course, knew what I was talking about when I said to Becky that "This play breaks my heart every time." The was he explains it:

"This play is when I learned how to 'be in the moment.' In the scene where George goes to the graveyard to visit Emily's (Yvonne Brooks') grave, I actually cried . . . real tears."

Shortly after Emily's untimely death (at age 26, during childbirth), she is allowed to revisit Earth for a day, and she wants to choose a "happy day," but the Dead advise her "No! At least, choose an unimportant day. Choose the least important day in your life. It will be important enough."

Here are the lines, in context:
Emily: Live people don't understand, do they?

Mrs. Gibbs: No, dear, not very much.

Emily: They're sort of shut up in little boxes, aren't they? I feel as though I knew them
last a thousand years ago. . . . I never realized before how troubled and
how, how in the dark live persons are. . . . From morning till night, that's all they are, troubled. . . .
But . . . one can go back; one can go back there again, into living. I feel it. I know it. . . .

Mrs. Gibbs: Yes, of course you can.

Emily: I can go back there and live all those days over again...why not?

Mrs. Gibbs: All I can say is, Emily, don't.

Emily (To the Stage Manager): But it's true, isn't it? I can go and live, back there, again.

Stage Manager: Yes, some have tried but they soon come back here.

Mrs. Gibbs: Don't do it, Emily.

Mrs. Soames: Emily, don't. It's not what you think it'd be.

Emily: But I won't live over a sad day. I'll choose a happy one. I'll choose the day I first knew that I loved George. Why should that be painful?

Stage Manager: You not only live it but you watch yourself living it.

Emily: Yes?

Stage Manager: And as you watch it, you see the thing that they, down there, never know. You see the future. You know what's going to happen afterwards.

Emily: But is that -- painful? Why?

Mrs. Gibbs: That's not the only reason why you shouldn't do it, Emily. When you've been here longer you'll see that our life here is to forget all that and think only of what's ahead and be ready for what's ahead. When you've been here longer you'll understand.

Emily: But, Mother Gibbs, how can I ever forget that life? It's all I know. It's all I had.

Mrs. Soames: Oh, Emily. It isn't wise. Really, it isn't.

Emily: But it's a thing I must know for myself. I'll choose a happy day, anyway.

Mrs. Gibbs: No! At least, choose an unimportant day. Choose the least important day in your life. It will be important enough.

Emily: . . . I can choose a birthday at least, can't I? I choose my twelfth birthday.

Stage Manager: All right. February 11th, 1899. A Tuesday. Do you want any special time of
day?

Emily: Oh, I want the whole day.

But, as it turns out, she can't bear the whole day.
After only an hour or so, she cries out to the Stage Manager:
Emily: I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. . . . I didn't realize. . . . Take me back -- up the hill -- to my grave. But first: Wait! One more look.

Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners -- Mama and Papa. Goodby to clocks ticking…and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you.

Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it -- every, every minute?

Stage Manager: No. The saints and poets, maybe—they do some.

************************
So, to make a short story long, this poignant scene is what came to mind when I read Becky's question about repeatedly reliving a day from the past.

Reading over the responses to the Becky's prompt, I was interested to see that some commenters had interpreted living "one day of your life over and over again," as a good day that they would like to experience perpetually; but others had interpreted it as a do - over day that they would like to improve upon or change.

I asked Becky which she preferred, and she explained what she had in mind originally:

"Yesterday I was thinking about the movie Groundhog Day, but had forgotten the plot. Living that day over and over again was not a good thing for the character Bill Murray played. He only got out of that vicious cycle by slowly changing, realizing his mistakes, doing things for others and being a nice guy. So my initial thought was that people would share a blissful day that they wouldn't mind re-living.

In that vein, I love the touching memories my friends and family have shared. However, equally touching are the do-over stories. I appreciate the bravery of those willing to share about their losses (none shared here related to any personal failings) that evoke regret. Everyone has them. Sharing them seems to me a path to peace with our past. This is a long way to get to your answer, but please feel free to share either a happy day or a do-over day."

I had to brood about all these options for awhile, but finally I decided to go with the first day of 2nd grade at Eugene Field Elementary School (Neosho, Missouri, Fall 1964). Here's why, not so much because I want to relive it over and over; and not because it requires a do - over, but out of curiosity:

For as long as I can remember, I have had this memory that my grandparents -- my mother's parents Paul & Rovilla Lindsey -- drove me to school on the first day of 2nd grade. But could that really be true? It seems unlikely, but in my memory, I had stayed with them until the very last day of summer vacation, and they drove me back home either the evening before school started or that very morning (they lived about 2 hours away from Neosho, in Caney, Kansas). I can see it so clearly -- their car pulling up to the school (the door by the kindergarten side of the building), me wearing a plaid dress, jumping out of the car, running up the steps, and turning to wave to them. But where are my close - in - age siblings, Bruce and Diane? Aaron was too little for school; and David and Peggy were at high school. But it was also the first day at Field School for Bruce and Di, so they should have been there with me, jumping out of the car and running up the steps. Yet, I can see only myself.

If I could go back and live that day again, I could confirm whether or not or how much of this memory really happened or if I somehow just made it up because that's how I wanted the summer to be. She died of breast cancer in June 1966, and during her last 2 summers -- 1964 and 1965, Bruce and I spent a lot of time at their house, so maybe we really did stay that year until the very last day.
Mystery Solved!
Choosing this day (if it really happened) would also allow me to hear my grandmother's voice once again. I was only 9 when she died, and sadly the memory of her voice is nearly lost to me. How I would love to hear it once again!

In conclusion, here is a contemporary passage -- written in 2016, describing the summer of 1938. It is so in keeping with the tone of Our Town written in 1938, describing the years from 1901 - 1913; and with my own childhood memories of sitting out on the front porch rocking chairs with my grandparents, as the light faded, night after night, summer after summer, 1960 - 1966:

“She watched her nieces commencing their nightly rite of selecting chairs. They were young and they didn’t understand. They believed that one chair was better than another. They believed that it was important to make distinctions, to choose, to discern particulars. Like crows, they picked out bits from each evening and lugged them around, thinking they were hoarding treasure. They remembered the jokes, or the games or the stories, not knowing that it was all one, that each tiny vibration of difference would be sanded, over the course of years, into sameness. It doesn’t matter, Jottie assured herself. They'll get to it. Later, they’ll understand that the sameness is the important part" (47 - 48).

from the novel The Truth According to Us
by American editor and author, Annie Barrows (b 1962)

Tea sets, here and above, on display
at the Art Institute of Chicago

Magi and Fruitcake

My brother Bruce sent me this cartoon
~ perfect for Epiphany ~
along with the suggestion for those
who fell behind in their baking this year:
"You don't have to wait for next Christmas.
Make a Valentines fruitcake,
or a St. Patrick's Day fruitcake!"

. . . but no one would turn away my fruitcake,
made with orange slice gumdrops!

Orange Slice Gumdrop Cake
Recipe from Midwest Living Magazine, December 1992

1/2 lb orange slice candy, cut up (1 1/2 cups) -- mixed with 1/4 cup flour

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup buttermilk

3/4 cup chopped dates
1 1/4 cups flaked coconut
1 cup chopped nuts pecans or almonds

Bring butter and eggs to room temperature; then beat butter, sugar, and eggs in large bowl.

Add the 1 1/2 cups flour and buttermilk alternately to egg mixture, beating after each addition.

Fold in dates, coconut and nuts; then gumdrops.

Grease and flour 1 regular sized loaf pan (or use baking spray) and spread batter evenly.

Bake at 300°F for about 1 hour and 40 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Or you can use 3 medium - small loaf pans (not tiny) and bake for a slightly shorter period.

If you want to glaze the cake(s), stir together 1 cup of powdered sugar and 1/4 cup orange juice until smooth, and pour over the hot cakes. (I never do this step; unglazed is fine with me.)

Cool in pans on wire racks for 20 minutes, remove from pans, cool completely.

Wrap each cake in plastic wrap or decorative holiday ziplock baggie.

Store in refrigerator for up to 4 weeks, or eat right away. Serve at room temperature.

****************

And now, an epiphanic poem on the serious side:
Will Peace Come Forever?

We traveled together.
It took me two weeks to understand
what Ahmad was saying.
We studied the stars. Forever I
love the desert sky at night.
The stars, so strong, so guiding,
so, yes so bright, tonight and last night,
so bright.

To Bethlehem we agreed.
I saw an angel in my sleep last night.
He said that people will talk of
this trip for thousands of years.
I asked if the King we seek is really
that great. He smiled and muttered in
an angel's way.
Tears flowed down
his cheeks.

I love sinking my feet into the sand
knowing that each step takes me
closer
to the King. I watch the star; we all watch
the star.
Luand is tall and he smells of his gift
frankincense. He glides along,
praying, praying that we will not
die in the dessert.
But Ahmad, the star seeker, the star
reader knows we will not.
And a thousand years from now,
who knows,
maybe someone will wonder where the
myrrh came from.

But oh I am happy, so happy to
follow this star and pray and
laugh in the night.

Catherine DeLong ~ writer ~ reader ~ friend
2004 Christmas

Some additional Magi / Epiphany Poems
to take a look at in greater detail when time allows:

Elizabeth Coatsworth

T. S. Eliot

Christopher Pilling

Muriel Spark

Sara Teasdale

Evelyn Waugh

The Final Exam & The Road Ahead

With graduation season upon us, I took a moment
to look through my old scrap book and came across
the above photo (sorry so fuzzy) of my twin brother Bruce
speaking at our high school graduation in 1975
and these poems, saved from back in the day:
****************
A Graduate's Prayer

Like a final exam,
Life stands before me.
I am frightened.
I face it with my pen lost
And my pencil broken.
I look at the questions with blurred eyes;
Facts drift in a senseless clutter
Down the corridors of my mind.
I am prepared with easy answers.
I have crammed with dates and details
That suddenly have no value.
I have skimmed and scanned and copied;
But the questions are essay
And not objective, as I had assumed.
God,
You are the Text I have persistently ignored.
You are the Passages carefully underlined,
And never understood.
Grant me the time to understand Your plan
Before I write the final answer
And my only answer book
Lies permanently closed.

Charles A. Waugaman (1932 - 2010)
American poet and artist

****************
The Road Ahead

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 the fact that I think that I am following
your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. ~Amen.

Thomas Merton (1915 – 1968)
American Trappist monk of the Abbey of Gethsemani, Kentucky
mystic, poet, social activist, theologian

****************

and
from The Eden Express
by Mark Vonnegut (b. 1947)
American writer, pediatrician, son of Kurt

Vonnegut begins this memoir of his post - college
years with the unforgettable anecdote:

"June 1969: Swarthmore Graduation.
The night before, someone had taken white paint and painted
"Commence What?" on the front of the stage."

****************

Rebecca Sprigg, Salutatorian
Lafayette High School ~ Ballwin, Missouri
Becky says:
"Somehow they let me send off the Class of 1976.
Hope my words inspired and encouraged!"

Magical Typing

A few days ago, one of my brothers posted an article whose title asks, "Should you feel sad about the demise of the handwritten letter?" In response, Dave comments:

Dave: I have lamented this trend for many years now. Its especially tough because I used to be both prolific and skilled in this lost art.

Bruce: I set out on a mission a couple of years ago to write at least one handwritten letter a week. I think I made it about two months. Maybe it's time to try again.

Kit: I'll take a birthday card!

It's true -- a simple card with handwritten signature would be great! One or two lines are just as welcome to me as one or two pages. In fact, I gladly receive, read, and respond to letters of any length -- hand - written, type - written, or conveyed electronically. Of course we value calligraphy, chirography, and longhand; however, technology not only facilitates communication but has its own artistry and even magic.

As a coincidental complement to this discussion, just a day after my brother's facebook post, I started a new book and encountered this tribute to typing. I like the connection he makes between typewriter and piano:

" . . . teaching me slowly and patiently how each letter represented a sound . . . On [my father's] typewriter I learned the whole alphabet, the numbers and all the punctuation marks, which may explain why a keyboard -- much more than a pencil or pen -- is for me the truest representation of the act of writing. That way of going along pressing sounds as on a piano, to convert ideas into letters and words, seemed to me from the start -- and still seems to me -- one of the most extraordinary acts of magic in the world."

from Oblivion: A Memoir, p 13
by Hector Abad (see also "Judging Time Aright")

No Quandary

Wearing my sterling silver "Duke" earrings,
except today they stand for "Democrat." Thanks Ben

On "America's Choosing Day,"
everyone should read Walt Whitman & Robert Frost.
How to decide?

First of all, I do not think of Hillary Clinton as the "lesser of two evils." I think Donald Trump is vile (an anagram of evil). Hillary Clinton is neither of those things. No contest in my mind. However, even if one is of the "lesser of two evils" position, what is the quandary? Has there ever been any nobility in choosing the greater of two evils?

Second, as adults, every day, our lives are filled with a series of choices for lesser evil. (E.g., killing all the ants on the kitchen floor feels kind of evil, but allowing them to continue living there seems even worse.) Many of our beloved and well respected Presidents have made choices for lesser evil when presented with two or more imperfect choices.

Except in the world of cartoons, we are rarely granted the luxury of a choice for perfectly good vs pure evil. In real life, and even in good fiction, the choices and conflicts are always more complicated and problematic than that.

My well - respected brother,
The Rev. Bruce Carriker, agrees:
So, here's the decision some people are still wrestling with:

A distrusted, dislikable individual who, despite some really questionable judgment, has been cleared not once but twice of wrongdoing by the FBI; and has been investigated eight times by her political opponents in Congress for her actions as Secretary of State, without a single charge being filed;

or

A serial adulterer; racist, misogynist bully who threatens to jail his opponents; banishes the press from his campaign events if he doesn't like their coverage; admires political despots in other countries; says he may turn his back on our allies; wants to cut taxes for his rich friends; doesn't pay taxes himself; boasts about what certainly sounds like sexual assault; mocks the disabled; operates a fraudulent "charitable foundation" for his own personal gain; bribes at least two states attorneys general to drop investigations of his fraudulent "university"; says the judge in his "university" fraud case is unqualified simply because of his race; questions the patriotism of Gold Star parents because of their religious faith; calls Latinos rapists and murderers; and wonders, if we have nuclear weapons, why don't we use them?

How this is even a decision seemingly reasonable people have to think about is simply beyond me. [Click for further thoughts]

And if you don't believe us,
how about Hadley Freeman,
writing for the Guardian:
" . . . the media promoted false equivalencies throughout this campaign to a degree never before seen.

On Tuesday, the Times headlined its editorial about the election “Tough Choice”, as if the decision between a woman who used the wrong email server and a racist, sexist, tax-dodging bully wasn’t, in fact, the easiest choice in the world. Clinton’s private email server was covered more ferociously than Trump’s misogyny. That Clinton had talked at Goldman Sachs was reported as a financial flaw somehow analogous to his non-payment of tax. However much people want to blame the Democrats, their voters or Clinton herself, the result of this election is due at least as much to anyone who pushed the narrative that Clinton and Trump were equally or even similarly “bad”.

Shame on them. The most qualified candidate in a generation was defeated by the least qualified of all time. That is what misogyny looks like, and, like all bigotries, it will end up dragging us all down."

A Vision for Election Day!

Thanks for the bulletin page Good Shepherd ~
Chapel of the Good Shepherd!

"And the Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision,
and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it."

Habakkuk 2:2, KJV

Pride was not made for men, nor furious anger for them that are born of a woman. They that fear the Lord are a sure seed, and they that love him an honourable plant: they that regard not the law are a dishonourable seed; they that transgress the commandments are a deceivable seed. Among brethren he that is chief is honorable; so are they that fear the Lord in his eyes. The fear of the Lord goeth before the obtaining of authority: but roughness and pride is the losing thereof.

Ecclesiasticus 10: 18 - 21, KJV

Losing Daylight Time

The Hampton Court Astronomical Clock appears briefly in the background in The Tudors. My brother Bruce and I noticed it when we were watching binge watching the first coupple of seasons, and we had to rewind -- the movie, not the clock, haha! -- so that I could get a closer look!

Equally amazing is the world's oldest working astronomical clock (in Prague, dating from 1410). My friend Mimi says, "I'm always amazed when these things have continued to function after so much time! Wonderful!"

[And More!]

I know there's really no such thing as gaining an hour or losing an hour. Time doesn't really slip away. It merely gets rearranged temporarily or manipulated to suit our temporal purposes, as will be happening tomorrow when we "fall back." The sad thing about the return to standard time is that even though we seem to gain an hour's sleep, we also lose the evening light. But not to worry, in a few months we'll spring forward and the light will return.

In the meantime, in observation of the time change, here is a sad and lovely passage from last year's Pulitzer Prize winning novel:

"For all of Marie-Laure's four years in Saint-Malo, the bells at St. Vincent's have marked the hours. But now the bells have ceased. She does not know how long she has been trapped in the attic or even if it is day or night. Time is a slippery thing: lose hold of it once, and its string might sail out of your hands forever" (376).

from All the Light We Cannot See
by Anthony Doerr
And a couple of favorites from Storypeople
Just right for the end of Daylight Savings Time

Cubs

Cardinals Fans Aaron & Pam

World Series Thoughts from my brother Aaron, "A True Statesman"
With Responses from my brother Bruce
Aaron: I'll probably catch hell from many in Cardinals' Nation for saying this, but Go Cubs!! Congratulations to Cubs fans, the city of Chicago and the Cubs organization for making it to your first World Series in 71 years!!! As a life-long Cardinals fan I can't imagine how they must be feeling right now. I mean, an entire generation of Cubs fans have come and gone just waiting and hoping for this day to come. As Cardinals fans we've become spoiled with play-off baseball and World Series appearances (and victories!!), so when they don't make it, it doesn't seem right. The worst drought they've experienced in my lifetime was the 1970s. Actually a little longer; 1969-1981 with no post-season baseball. So at 55 years old, I can't imagine what it would be like to have never seen the Cardinals play in a World Series game. Unfathomable!!! So Congratulations & Go Cubs!!!!

Well, whether they beat the Indians or not, I'm happy for them.

After thinking about it, the Cardinals' longest World Series appearance drought in the past 55 years was 15 years; 1988-2003. They made it into the post-season four times, but not to the World Series. Still, it doesn't compare to 71 years!!!

I wouldn't go so far as to start putting Cubs stickers all over, but since the Cardinals didn't make the playoffs this year, yeah, I'll root for the Cubs.

Bruce: Five years ago I had just witnessed the fifth Cardinals' World Series championship of my lifetime. This was the last paragraph of my five-year FB memory this morning:

"The older I get...the more seasons that pass without the Cubs winning a pennant...the more I realize that this could easily be the last Cardinals' World Series win I ever see. And if that happens, I can't be sad or upset. I'm just grateful that somehow, for whatever reason, fate allowed me to be a Cardinal fan. My life as a baseball fan has truly been blessed, and I consider myself very fortunate."

go cubs

Lower case to denote lack of heartfelt enthusiasm for the sentiment, though intellectually I'm in agreement.

go cubs

For my friends who are Cubs fans: The first loaf-at-a-time bread slicing machine wasn't built until 1912. So, if you're a Cubs fan, winning this World Series really would be the best thing since sliced bread!

Dave: I saw my first Cubs game in the early spring of 1968. I had been back from Vietnam about six months and TET was upon us (ancient battle). I was in desperate need of something to occupy my mind. A fellow at work gave me a ticket to watch the Cubs and after clearing it with my SgtMaj I caught the "El" and went to my first professional ball game.

It was a very interesting experience. I had almost no idea of how the game was played but I could still see the symmetry and grace of how it was played. In the next two years I went to probably four or five games. Somehow, their message of "never give up" and "wait til next year" infused me and I took it for my own. In many ways, it was similar to learning how to become a Marine.

I have never regretted adopting The Cubs as MY team.

"Beautiful and terrible things . . . "

~ Autumn Trees, Shadows, Reflections ~

“The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party* wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you.” ~ Frederick Buechner

*Guess what? When Buechner says party, he does not mean political party! Our current and recent thoughts, however, are of politics; thus I offer the following:
~ Pre - Election Reflection ~

From Guest Blogger Bruce L. Carriker

@ The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker:
A Fortnightly [every 14th & 28th] Literary Blog of
Connection & Coincidence; Custom & Ceremony

Previous guest commentary includes:

Eulogy for our Brother - in - Law Ron

Lives, Fortunes, Sacred Honor

Pearl Harbor Day

A Break From Politics

October, Baseball, and Cats

(also on facebook: A Note About The Cardinals)

Thanks Dave!

Happy Birthday to My Twin Brother Bruce

What To Do?

On the Road Again

At the conclusion of our recent family reunion, my twin brother Bruce was within moments of jumping into his car and heading home. Everything was packed for his drive halfway across the country. Only his computer remained on the countertop, ready for checking the weather, looking at maps, and sending a few last - minute messages. No sooner had he completed these tasks than the computer started updating itself. Surprise!

"What do you think?" my brother asked me. "Do you really think any harm will come to my computer if I shut it down and hit the road? Or should I wait?"

Luckily, I knew precisely how to answer his questions. I picked up the latest book of poetry by my friend Len and read aloud the following:

Desperate Times

I can do something unexpected, even
a little wild and risky; I could leave my
back - up travel alarm clock home next time
I go on a trip. I could get rid of my emergency
hairbrush that I keep in my office desk
in case violent winds, the hot simoom,
come roaring down the river as I cross
the parking lot, I might just get rid of it.
When someone asks for a volunteer
from the audience, why, I might go onstage,
just to picture your wide-eyed expression
when they lock me in one of those boxes
they run through with four - foot swords.
I might try the calamari, the kim chi,
order that Thai dish with five peppers
printed next to it in the menu. I could
leave my car in a loading zone when
I am not actually loading, and I could
enter the crosswalk after the red hand
has started blinking. When the screen says
Please wait until the computer shuts down,
I might not wait. Anything's possible.

by Leonard Orr
from A Floating Woman

Christmas Shomily

1961: Boo, Kit holding Di, Peg holding A, Dave
[Look how Little Di is patting me on the knee ~ I just love that!]

1967: Bruce, David, Aaron, Diane, Peggy, Kitti
On Christmas Evening, my twin brother posted on facebook:

"Sorry-- no Christmas shomily (short homily) this year. But, to all of you who make my life better by being a part of it, Merry Christmas!"

But, actually, he was just being modest. For, in fact, earlier in the day, he had emailed the family with this perfect "shomily":

"Merry Christmas, sibs! I was thinking last night about what an unlikely, eclectic mix we are; what each one of us brings to that mix; and how it just wouldn't work if any one of us weren't part of that mix. I love you all very much, and hope you all have a wonderful Christmas."

To which my older brother Dave replied with a "shomily" of his own:

"A very Merry Christmas from the David J. Carriker household. I agree with what Bruce had to say. Our branch of the clan is far and away the most unusual and had no chance of being otherwise. Our various life experiences have created an entity that is both blunt instrument and surgical tool."

Some Christmas Pictures:
Us Four Little Kids ~ 1967

A New Bike for Aaron ~ 1970 (best guess)

See also my
Haiku For the Family

Meaning of Christmas

See also "Season's Cheatings"
by Duo Dickinson at Saved By Design

Last month, my brother Bruce posted an insightful explanation of not only the meaning of Christmas but also the meaning of the so - called War on Christmas.

I had to agree with our friend Mitzi who replied to Bruce, who usually has the last word on everything: "This was so good, you could have written it."

In this case, however, I also want to add my own "two cents worth":

I think the message of Christmas is "Be nice to pregnant women no matter who the father of the baby is and regardless of their legal marital status; and to babies no matter who their parents are. Remember: ". . . When you kiss your little baby, you've kissed the face of God . . . "

And this from The Reverend Nancy Rockwell in her article "No More Lying About Mary":

The Greek word Luke uses for virgin is an unusual one, a very specific word that means she has not yet born a child. Its precise meaning does not indicate sexual innocence. So let’s be clear: the focus is on her uterus. The state of her hymen is not at issue here. . . .

Mary is unmarried when the angel comes. The angel’s invitation and her independent decision tell us Mary does not need permission of clergy – or her parents – to become pregnant. God knows Mary owns her own body. And there is no shame in her decision. Mary is good news for unwed mothers everywhere.

Mary, wanted by God, according to the angel, for her bold, independent, adventuresome spirit, decides to bear a holy child – for a bold agenda: to bring the mighty down from their thrones; to scatter the proud in the imagination of their hearts, to fill the hungry with good things and send the rich empty away. This is Mary: well-spoken, wise, gritty.

from the poem Christmas Carols
by Margaret Atwood

Children do not always mean
hope. To some they mean despair. . . .
Think twice then
before you worship turned furrows, or pay
lip service to some full belly
or other, or single out one girl to play
the magic mother, in blue
& white, up on that pedestal,
perfect & intact, distinct
from those who aren't. Which means
everyone else. It's a matter
of food & available blood. If mother-
hood is sacred, put
your money where your mouth is. Only
then can you expect the coming
down to the wrecked & shimmering earth
of that miracle you sing
about, the day
when every child is a holy birth.

Virgin Mary on Amazon
See also:
Why Christmas is Weird for Girls

Road Trip

"Once again it was jolly autumn weather,
and the road was quiet, with few cars passing.
The air was like sweetbriar . . .
We two seemed the only tramps on the road."

~ from Down and Out in Paris and London (177)
George Orwell (1903 - 50)
English writer and social critic

"On the old highway maps of America, the main routes were red and the back roads blue. Now even the colors are changing. But in those brevities just before dawn and a little after dusk - times neither day nor night - the old roads return to the sky some of its color. Then, in truth, they carry a mysterious cast of blue, and it's that time when the pull of the blue highway is strongest, when the open road is a beckoning, a strangeness, a place where you can lose yourself."

~ from Blue Highways: A Journey into America
William Least Heat Moon (b 1939)
American travel writer and historian

"And when I'd seen all the sights,
there was the moon so round
Go home, said the man in the moon, go home
Go home, said the man in the moon, go home
Because it's getting sorta late, and I'll soon put out my light
So go home, said the man in the moon, go home

We didn't know who we were, we didn't know what we did
We were just on the road"

~ from "On the Road"
Sung by Michael Johnson (b 1944)
American singer, song - writer, guitarist

*****************

Recent travels with my twin brother:
Frederick & Baltimore, Maryland
Neosho, Missouri
Coffeyville & Caney, Kansas
Bartlesville, Oklahoma
Blue Springs & Kansas City, Missouri
Where to next?

Vienna Waits

"Whoever wants to know something about me
- as an artist which alone is significant -
they should look attentively at my pictures
and there seek to recognise
what I am and what I want."
Gustav Klimt
This past week, I was lucky enough to spend 2 1/2 days in Vienna, arriving on Tuesday afternoon and staying 'til dawn on Friday. Gerry was busy working, except for dinner one night, so I tried to see as much as I could, keeping in mind that I had "so much to do and and only / So many hours in a day"!
Click here for my tourist photos in the facebook album:

~ A Couple of Days in Vienna ~
Thanks to my brother Bruce for posting the link to this old favorite -- now with new meaning:

Vienna Waits For You
[Click for slideshow & following]

Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me,
Why are you still so afraid? (mmmmm)

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day (ay)

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through (oooh)
When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight)

Too bad, but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right (you're right)

You got your passion, you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true (oooh)
When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh)
When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

And you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through (oooh)
Why don't you realize... Vienna waits for you?

When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

Music and lyrics by Billy Joel

Bearing witness at the art museums . . .
so much to choose from . . .
but I couldn't miss these classic treasures:

The Kiss
Gustav Klimt, 1862 - 1918

The Art of Painting
Jan Vermeer, 1632 - 1675

Sleeping Woman With Flowers
Marc Chagall, 1887 - 1985

***************************
Of the three museums I visited ~ Albertina, Belvedere, Kunsthistorisches ~ I enjoyed the Belvedere most and wish I had spent more time there. It consists of two Palaces, both filled with art, and I only took time to do one -- the Upper Belvedere, where the Klimts are. If it's a nice day, you can spend an hour walking around outside, taking photos, and enjoying the walk down to the Lower Belvedere (or vice versa, depending on which end you enter).

My problem was that after doing the Upper, I walked briskly through the garden and didn't stay to visit the Lower. I also noticed a really cute local color restaurant / pub near the Lower entrance / exit, called the Salm Brau, that I wish I could have gone back to later with Gerry, but we didn't have time.

All three museums are within walking distance of each other if you don't mind a long walk (though for the hardy, this may even seem like a short walk)!

Kunsthistorisches = #20
Albertina = #23
Belvedere = lower right corner
The Lower Belvedere and the Albertina are both open late on Wednesdays, so if you are in Vienna on a Wednesday and your day is full, you could save one of these locations until evening. A user friendly tip about the Albertina is that you can ride up the outdoor escalator to the foyer and have access to the very safe and tidy public restrooms in the basement before going thru the official entrance and purchasing your ticket. Needless to say, after discovering this, I availed myself of the facilities several times, whenever I found myself in the vicinity! The posters (see photos) of all the previous Albertina exhibits are displayed on the stairwell walls leading down to the restrooms (I think they might actually be there for students, but no one questioned).

Gerry and I did the Albertina on Wednesday evening -- it's a smaller museum, so I don't think we missed much. We peeked in at the restaurant, but it looked very modern, New York - style, which is nice, but seemed like something we could more easily find in the USA, so we wandered out onto the street and picked a touristy outdoor cafe instead.

This is also the best area for walking / wandering around randomly, if you like doing that -- starting at the Albertina / Opera House area and heading inward toward St. Stephen's Church & St. Peter's Church. The streets seem to have everything -- from tiny quaint shops to large world department stores, and buidlings from every decade / century, so you can get a real sense of the city. And even if you feel lost, you eventually end up back on the main ring road.

All the large public buildings are a bit further away, but the first ones you come to are the Art History Museum (Kunsthistorisches) and Natural History Museum. So I walked that far, but no farther. I spent a couple of hours doing one floor of the Kunsthistorisches -- where the Vermeer was, and some Brueghels. There was so much more -- ancient artifacts and coins (kind of British - museum style) in the basement, but I just ran out of steam.

The Kunsthistorisches is open late on Thursday, so if your stay includes a Thursday night, you can visit this museum in the late afternoon and then stay on for dinner. The restaurant was very ornate and fabulous - looking, right in the center rotunda! This would have been my and Gerry's choice, except that the conference dinner was on Thursday night, so we weren't free. I also noticed that the Kunsthistorisches had nice big couches all around, in sunny spots, so if you allowed yourself to visit at a more leisurely pace, you could do one floor then sit and relax, then do another exhibit, then sit in a different spot, and so forth. That's what I would have done if I had not been rushing myself.

Our hotel was right near the Stadtpark, also a very pretty place just to walk around and take pictures. We weren't in Vienna long enough to look into musical events, but there seems to be one every night at the Stadtpark in the Kursalon (see photos). The Thursday night conference dinner was held in the Stadtpark at the Restaurant Steirereck. From the outside, where the back of the restaurant faces the park (in my photos) it looks very quaint. From the front & inside & on the menu it is very contemporary. Elegant and highly rated, but wouldn't have been my first choice for local color.

Still, no complaints! You can only do so much in 2 or 3 days, so have fun picking and choosing! Whatever you do will be great, and you'll surely return home thinking of all the things you'll do next time, if you ever make it back again!

Previous Travels
Berlin
Berlin vs Philly
Hanover
Paris

Lives, Fortunes, Sacred Honor

"In these days of difficulty, we Americans everywhere
must and shall choose a path of social justice...
The path of faith, the path of hope,
and the path of love toward our fellow man. . . .
I never forget that I live in a house owned by all the American people
and that I have been given their trust."
~~ FDR ~~

Photograph: Purdue University, 11 September 2012
A guest blog from my brother,
Bruce L. Carriker, political scientist:

Last week I was in Philadelphia. I stood in the room where a collection of radicals voted to declare independence from England. Though I've been there many times, it is always a moving experience to stand in that place.

Today, I visited the National Archives. I saw the finished product of their efforts, worn and faded, nearly illegible. Fortunately, there are multiple, fully legible reproductions nearby.

Thinking about those giants and what they did -- reading the words they chose to express the will of a new nation -- I was ashamed and embarrassed for what passes as a Congress today. Certainly there were disagreements -- strong disagreements -- over the issue of independence, and the form a new nation would take. They disagreed over a strong federal government, or sovereign states with little more than a figurehead national government. They disagreed over slavery. Some of the men who signed the Declaration of Independence disagreed on independence. But, when it was all said and done, they pledged to one another their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

Can anyone, for one second, imagine Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, John Boehner, Mitch McConnell and Eric Cantor pledging to one another their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor?

Embarrassed and ashamed. That pretty much sums it up.

Pearl Harbor Day

Around this time last year, I asked my politically astute brother Bruce if he would share a few wise words with us on the solemn 70th Anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day.

He balked at first: "Since when do I take requests?"

I implored . . .

Then he relented: "Okay, I'll see what I can do . . ."

And I saved his response until today . . .

Bruce's Pearl Harbor Thoughts
Unable to shed her college professor instincts, my sister felt compelled to give me a homework assignment: Write something about Pearl Harbor. So, I tried. Sadly, when I looked online, most of today's articles and editorials about Pearl Harbor quickly degenerate into misguided attempts to support our military misadventures in Iraq and Afghanistan; or exercises in justifying US jingoism.

Why DO we remember Pearl Harbor? Why not remember May 7 (VE Day) or August 14 (VJ Day) instead? Why remember the beginning of a national tragedy, rather than the end of the nightmare? I'm not sure I can answer that question, but I know what I'd LIKE the answer to be.

On December 7, 1941 [the 2nd Sunday of Advent] the Japanese bombed US military installations on Oahu, the biggest of which was Pearl Harbor. On December 8, the US declared war on Japan, thus entering World War II. The vote in the Senate was 88-0; in the House it was 388-1. (Jeanette Rankin of Montana voted no, saying, “As a woman I cannot fight in a war, and I refuse to send anyone else. She lost her seat in 1942.) Can you imagine any vote today, on any issue of importance, that would receive unanimous support in the Senate, and only one dissenting vote in the House?

Author Studs Terkel called World War II “the last good war.” In fact, it is our last war to date, period. Since World War II, we have not bothered to declare war on anyone before actually engaging in war. In any case, it is the only war in our history (not counting the Civil War, when we went to war with ourselves) when THE NATION went to war. It is the only war in our history when the civilian population at home played such an extensive roll. It is the only foreign war in our history when the entire country made real sacrifices – endured rationing of staple food items, couldn't buy a new car or major appliance because our full industrial capacity was focused on winning the war, paid higher taxes to fund the war.

Maybe THAT is what we ought to remember on the 70th Anniversary of Pearl Harbor. It was a day that united all Americans, unlike any other in our history...even July 4, 1776. An entire nation came together and focused on one mission – winning the war – and making whatever sacrifices were necessary to bring about that end, as quickly as possible. It is the last time...the ONLY time...that AMERICA went to war. Before and since, we have sent our military forces to war. But, the country has not gone to war with them. Maybe THAT is what makes Pearl Harbor worthy of our remembrance: We should never again send our young men and women to die in combat, if all of AMERICA...rich and poor, military and civilians...is not prepared to go to war with them.

Post Script 7 December 2012: Reading this a year later, I am struck by this idea: The ONLY REASON...the ONLY ONE...that the war in Afghanistan has lasted eleven years is because THE COUNTRY is not at war. With the exception of the few families (as a percentage of our population) who have sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers fighting and DYING over there, the war is background noise. Many nights it's not even mentioned on the evening news. How can this be? HOW CAN THIS BE?

If no one had been able to buy a new car for eleven years, you can bet that war would be over. If no one had been able to buy a new refrigerator or a new washer and dryer or a new 84" television set, you can bet that war would be over. If the people who voted to send us to war had also voted to PAY FOR THE WAR by raising our taxes, you can bet that war would be over. If there was a draft, instead of an all-volunteer force, and the children, siblings, and parents of the 1% (or even the 20%) were fighting and dying and coming home maimed, you can bet that war would be over.

As a nation, we should be ashamed. Our politicians should be ashamed, and we should turn them out of office - EVERY ONE! We have sent the best of the next generation to fight and die, and then forgotten them - pulling them out for use as props, to score political points or elicit emotional support for some cause, then forgetting them as soon as WE'RE finished with them.

BUT, WHAT ABOUT THEM? When do THEY get to be FINISHED? When do THEY get to stop dying? When do THEY get to come home? When do we DEMAND that our leaders either SEND THIS COUNTRY TO WAR...ALL OF IT...or bring those kids home NOW!!!

Because, if it's not worth sending THE WHOLE COUNTRY to war, then it's not worth sending ANYONE!

from The Rev. Bruce L. Carriker

Previous guest commentary includes:

A Break From Politics

October, Baseball, and Cats

(also on facebook: A Note About The Cardinals)

Thanks Dave!

Happy Birthday to My Twin Brother Bruce

City Wonderland

"For the heart of man's a palace,
And his dreams are as the sunlight.
They burn away the darkness as they warm the freezing cold.
. . . the diamond star shines down upon the pathway to the soul." *
~ as sung by Peter, Paul & Mary ~

Plaza Lights at Sunset
Kansas City, MO ~ Sunday 2 December 2012
Thanks to my brother Bruce Carriker
for sending me this magical photo by Eric Bowers
Bruce said: "While I enjoyed my 17 years in the KC area, I really love rural south-central Pennsylvania. But THIS, I miss . . . a lot. . . .
What's even cooler is that you don't need to be in a helicopter
or anything special to see that view.
You can just go up on the high ground east of the Plaza
and this is exactly what it looks like!"

As my friend Burnetta said,
Cities can be so alluring . . .
especially at Christmastime!

At left are a couple of shots I took last week on Michigan Avenue in Chicago.

Looks like the North Pole, doesn't it?

And the Crate & Barrel Store looks like Santa's Workshop, inside and out!

I also found some lovely
snow scenes from Quebec City
[click here]
set to music from the
Home Alone Soundtrack.

Happy December!





*The Magi: The Heart of Man's A Palace
Oh the magi were the prophets
And they wandered through the desert,
And they saw the star above them
And they knew they'd find their way.
Through the valley of the shadow
With the hope of human kindness,
They were strengthened by the vision
Of a new and brighter day.

Chorus:
And the wisemen spoke of peace on earth,
Of harmony and struggle.
Know you now a cycle's gone and a new one is revealed
In the weaving of your fingers,
In the whisper of a love that's born again,
In the weaving of your fingers,
In the promise that we made that never ends.

Well now each man is a pilgrim,
Yes, we all must make the journey.
And it seems that time is telling us to be all that we can,
To help lift up the fallen, we must sow the seeds of goodness.
The torch is passed among us now to light the way of man.

For the heart of man's a palace,
And his dreams are as the sunlight.
They burn away the darkness as they warm the freezing cold
As an eagle flying higher, as a river through the canyon,
The diamond star shines down upon the pathway to the soul

(Chorus)

In the promise that we made that never ends.
In the promise that we made that never ends.

lyrics by Joe Henry & Peter Yarrow