Babies R Wee

First off, a momentary diversion:



Secondly, if anyone knows of a way to make money off of dirty diapers, clue me in. If last night's trash run is any indicator, we should be able to pay cash for a house and put the kids through college on any money we could harvest from dirty diapers.

And now, a pun

It was the fifth day of the second month in Alluria, and by tradition the great and generous Tarm would be visiting each village, bringing gifts of food and clothing. The watchmen were in the towers, waiting to give the signals to open the gates, and the peasants were waiting with bated breath. The atmosphere was one of excitement and gaity.

Suddenly, the watch bell chimed, a resounding GLAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNGGGGG, and the crowds excitedly thronged the main street, eager to catch a glimpse of the great and generous Tarm. Breaths were held, and voices hushed in anticipation, all except one, that of an old man from somewhere in the back of the crowd, obstinately saying, "It ain't him yet!" The old man was shushed, and the crowd waited, until the gates opened to reveal...a merchant and his entourage, coming to trade his wares at the next market day.

The crowd dispersed quietly, and the old man sat in his chair, rocking and muttering quietly to himself.

Moments later, the watch bell chimed out again, GLAAAAAAANNNNNNGGGGG and the peasants again flocked to the main street, expectantly waiting. Again the old man's voice piped up from the back of the crowd: "It ain't him! It ain't him, it ain't him!" Again he was shushed, and the crowd waited, as the gates were opened to reveal...a messenger from a neighboring village asking if the Tarm had yet passed this way. He was sent on his way with a negative response, and the crowds began to disperse.

As the people wandered away, they heard the old man saying, "Don't wander too far now, he'll be here in a few minutes." Some gave him no heed, and others swore at him under their breath, but a few hung around to see if he was right.

Almost an hour passed before the bell chimed out again, GLAAAAAAAAANNNNNNGGGGG! Once more the crowds gathered, with a slightly subdued air, and this time, from the back of the crowd the old man was heard cackling, "He's here! He's here!" He was once more shushed, and the crowd stood waiting while the gates were dragged open for the third time, to reveal...the great and generous Tarm!

The crowds cheered, hats were thrown, money was tossed to the waiting crowds, and the air of revelry increased threefold.

As impromptu parade wound its was to the heart of town, the old man sat on his chair and chuckled to himself. One onlooker paused briefly and asked, "How did you know it was him?"

"I tell people every year! When it comes to gettin' a parade together, the third chime's a Tarm!"

The Liturgical Tradition - Pt 2: Why I stayed

My decision to start attending a liturgical church was not by any means the end of my journey toward accepting the liturgical format as the best way to worship. That journey is still going on. But there was one thing that I and my friends - who were new to this whole thing - could agree on: it has something that our previous worship experiences had been lacking.

The easiest way to describe this would be to say that liturgy provides a skeleton for the flesh of the worship. If worship were dance, liturgy would be the music to which you dance.

Before, my experience with church - not to mention my 'personal worship', for lack of a better term - had always felt fairly amoebic. The church service may have had a program and order to it, but that order was inconsistent, intangible and (as far as I could tell) purposeless. The prayers, while not heretical or even banal, had a very 'inspirational' feeling to them, like you could almost hear the person offering the prayer searching for inspiration.

Maybe that's what it was: it felt like the whole point of the service was to inspire me. Many of the songs were of either the happy 'Jesus is my friend' variety, or of the 'I'm happy to be Christian' variety, and while both of those are true (more at some times than others) they are not always what should be said. They either assume I am in a mood in which I might not be, or they seem to attempt to get me into a certain mood. They came across as being patho-centric.

What I found with liturgy was a service that took nothing for granted about the state of the person entering into it. Instead, it invites you in and engages your mind, rather than your emotions. And the eventual result is that your emotions begin to follow. Lewis must have been Anglican.

Now, instead of a nebulous experience awaiting me, I have a structure waiting for me that invites me into the worship, and helps me to quiet my mind and calm my heart. Instead of a bright, 'friendly' auditorium, I enter a quiet (if I get there on time), holy place, where I am obviously not the most important person there and neither is the person at the front of the stage.

Now, instead of being invited to 'take a moment for silent reflection and repentance', I join those around me in asking God for His forgiveness, and as I repeat the words I am forced to remind myself that I am an evil person who needs repentance and forgiveness. It is a good message to hear in this age of affirmation.

Instead of sitting quietly and awarkwardly waiting for communion to start, half of the service is dedicated to reminding us what exactly communion is all about, and preparing for communion.

And when, at the end of mass, the celebrant exhorts us to "Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord," I can enthusiastically exclaim, "Thanks be to God!", knowing that my mind, heart and spirit have been nourished and refreshed, rather than feeling as though I have been watching a show for the past couple hours.

Movie Recommendation: Enchanted - 3 sneezes

Well, we had a rare opportunity to go to a real movie at a real theatre this weekend, and at Jess' recommendation we went to see the new release Enchanted, and at this point I think I can wholeheartedly recommend the movie.

Story: 2 Sneezes - a little predictable, but not to bad regardless
Technical Details: 2 Sneezes - good music, good visual effects
Acting: 3 Sneezes - excellent role-playing by the fairytale characters
Humor: 3 Sneezes - several good laugh out loud moments
Family Friendly: 2 Sneezes - Good morals, good parenting

It begins in a perfect spoof of any Disney fairy tale movie, right down to the 2d, hand-drawn animation, and the princess-to-be in her woodland house with her woodland animal friends singing about love. But 15 minutes into the movie, the princess is thrown down an enchanted well and ends up in live-action New York City. The plot unfolds as the prince attempts to rescue her, and the people she meets in NYC try to help who they think is a very nice nutjob.

High points of the movie include:
- Acting: Amy Adams (Giselle) and James Marsden (Prince Edward, also played Cyclops in X-Men) do an excellent job of wholeheartedly throwing themselves into the roles of a fairlytale princess and prince in real life. And Patrick Dempsey does a good job of playing the skeptical New Yorker who is trying to be nice while still being a good dad.
- Morals: In true classic Disney form, no one sleeps with anyone else in the movie, and it does a decent job in handling divorce and even the idea of "happily ever after". The dad character is actually portrayed as a good father and a worthy hero. SPOILER:Even though the guy from NY is dating someone while he falls in love with the princess, they are not engaged, so there aren't even any vows broken END SPOILER
- The film does a good job of making evil evil and good good.

I'm suppose I should caveat that the ending might be a little scary for little kids, since the evil queen turns into a dragon, but children over the age of five would probably be okay, since there is nothing particularly grotesque about it (she is a very pretty evil magic dragon).

Strike out!

Anyone who watches tv knows about the big strike going on between the Writers[sic] Guild of America and the big production companies. Most people don't quite understand what the strike is all about, and many of those who do don't seem to care too much. So I'm not going to delve into that today.

My question is: If this goes on long enough, do you think there's any chance that it will revitalize America's capacity for creativity? I mean, if all that's on tv is the same old reruns, how long do you think it will take for people to start getting fed up and, oh, I dunno, read a book? Or do a puzzle? Or even - heavens forfend! - go outside and play ball?

I doubt that this is an impending event, but I can't help being excited about it anyway. Maybe when we go for walks in the evenings, we'll actually start passing some of our neighbors?

The Liturgical Tradition - Pt1: How I got hooked

For some time I have been wanting to consolidate some thoughts that have been rolling around in my head regarding church tradition, liturgy, and forms of worship. What follows is the first part of what I hope will become a series.

I was raised in the non-denominational church. Partially out of necessity (growing up overseas in a Muslim country means you take whatever you can get) but even when we moved back to TX, we started attending a non-denominational church. I think it was just habit by then. I'm not really sure.

My first experience with the liturgical tradition was after I moved out to CA. I wasn't really actively 'shopping' for a church, but I wasn't particularly thrilled with the one I was attending. I was basically riding Mom's coattails to a single parents group at a large NDC here. Occasionally I would go to the college group, but I didn't know anyone, and have never been great at making friends on my own initiative, so I would mostly stand in a corner and juggle until things got started, and then I would sit in the corner and more or less participate.

Anyway, my brother's girlfriend (at the time, now his wife) had been raised Episcopal, and during their semester in Oxford he had fallen in love with TLCs, so they had found a good, solid, orthodox Episcopal church in the area that they were attending, and one week he invited me to go with them, and I said yes.

The church was fairly small (seating about 150 people fully packed) and had stained glass windows and statues and crufixes, and all the bells and whistles (literally). I spent most of the service trying to figure out when to kneel, what page of the little black book we were on, and how to best pretend to sing along to the plainchant songs/prayers. I believe my overall impression at the end of the service was, "Well, that was interesting. I don't think I'll ever do that again." I had a few questions, but for the most part I didn't care enough to ask about most of what was going on. Besides, I prefer to appear to know what I'm doing at all times.

A few months later, my brother mentioned to me that the rector of the church was also a blackbelt in karate, and taught classes through the church for a free-will-donation fee. We decided that it would be a fun thing to do together, so we started going. Looking back, it strikes me that that first day in karate class was far more awkward than that first visit to a TLC - I still didn't really know much of what was going on, didn't know when to kneel or stand, and spent most of the time watching others out of the corners (or middles) of my eyes. Plus, I kept wanting to address the Sensei as "Dr. so-and-so" instead of "Fr. so-and-so", due to my previous sublimation in the academic world.

But after a couple of months going to the church twice a week for karate, and as I got more familiar with some of the people in the karate class who were also members of the church, and - most importantly - the cute girl I had a crush on started attending the church, I began to think more about giving liturgy another chance. So I hooked a ride with some friends and never looked back.

Random Acts of Monday: Crusty, just the way I like 'em

Boogers.

Few things have quite the same potential for grossness, satisfaction, and entertainment as the little greenish nose nuggets. Farts might be one of them. But we're talking about boogers right now.

Most people who are honest and who are not incredibly over-socialized will admit to the joy of picking one's nose. The feeling of at last being able to breathe clearly. The satisfaction of dislodging a booger that has been encroaching on your nasal passages for the past week. It's almost as good as sneezing.

I discovered this weekend that, if you have the right person in mind, picking someone else's nose can be almost as satisfying. Take, for example, a one-and-a-half-year-old who has no concept of clear nostrils, and who has had a cold for a while. A rather patient one-and-a-half-year-old at that, who will, for the most part, hold still and let you decrust his nose in line at the Little Caesar's. It feels like I must have removed a pound and a half of crust from his nostrils, which helped pass the time waiting rather well.

Just don't eat what you find. And beware of balrogs.

Random Acts of Monday: Making the most of those Toddler years

So far, I can unequivocably say that the most fun part of being a father is toddlerhood. The kid is mostly mobile, fairly obedient, and - the best part - starting to say things. Thus it is that we discover one of the perks of parenthood: Teaching your child to say Cool Stuff.

Being raised in Texas, there were a few key phrases that were missing in my vocabulary until I moved out to SoCal. For example, we learning to say things like "Sheeeooooot Daaang!" and "Yeeeeehaaw!", but I didn't learn to say 'like' and 'totally' until I moved here. Now that my children are growing up in good ol' Sunnyseventytwo, I feel I would be remiss not to teach them some of the finer points of SoCal vocab.

Few things are as cool as listening to your 1.5y/o son saying things like "Duuude! Whooah!" in a little, lispy toddler voice. And of course, what refined girl's vocab would be complete without such compliments as "Simply SMASHING, Daahling!"?