Lift Up Your Hearts!

We are the Folk Song Army
Everyone of us cares.
We all hate poverty, war and injustice,
Unlike the rest of you squares.
(Tom Lehrer, 1965 or earlier)

With all the publicity given to the Kony 2012 social media campaign, this looks like a good time to bring back Tom Lehrer's wonderful Folk Song Army. (Brief, mild, visual grandchild warning at the very beginning.)

Seriously, there is good reason to worry that this popular campaign will do more harm than good.  As this Guardian article explains,

There is no question that the LRA has been one of the most horrifying armed forces in the past half century. But while the video urges spreading the word, signing a pledge, buying an action kit of Kony 2012 bracelets and posters, and of course donating to [advocacy group] Invisible Children, it's hard to understand how this will aid the current slow chase of Kony and his forces through some of the most intractable terrain in the world.

US military advisers have been helping the Ugandan army track the LRA since October, and Invisible Children wants to keep pressure on the US to maintain or improve that assistance. But as there has not been a whisper of possibly withdrawing this support, raising it as the reason for urgency seems slightly odd.

...

The arc of the video tells you that before, no one cared but, thanks to technology and Invisible Children, everyone can now take the necessary action to earn Kony the infamy and arrest or death he deserves.

But since Invisible Children as an organisation began with a few north Americans stumbling into a conflict they didn't know existed and then resolving to help the child victims by making a movie, the base level of great white saviourdom is already high. Implying that finally now, by getting the word out about Kony via celebrities, bracelets and social media, can the LRA be ended plays into this narrative of white rescuers coming to help poor Africans and totally ignores the efforts, good and bad, by Ugandans to fight the LRA for 25 years. I belong to a discussion group of hundreds of Ugandan journalists, and so far only one has been willing to stand up and say this campaign is a good thing (and mainly because it might help more people find Uganda on a map). Nearly everyone else finds Kony 2012 self-aggrandising, patronising and oversimplified.

Remember the war against Franco,
That's the kind where each of us belongs.
Though he may have won all the battles,
We had all the good songs!

So join in the Folk Song Army,
Guitars are the weapons we bring
To the fight against poverty, war, and injustice.
Ready, aim, sing!

The following headlines were presented as the top three on my Orlando Sentinel news feed this morning:

Transgender woman denied drinks during  ladies night

Florida suspect accused of eating brain due in court

Mom accused of strangling 2-year-old with bra returns to court

The Sentinel is a mainstream, respected newspaper, with several Pulitzer prizes to its credit.  Apparently, supermarket tabloid fare has become the new normal.

Which is worse, losing your technical edge, or losing your technical edge and pretending you didn't?

When I was young, "Made in Japan" implied useless, cheap, junky.  I'm thrilled that it now means quite the opposite.  Excellence is a good thing, and I see no reason to mourn when other countries compete at our level or even best us in some areas.  A little competition keeps us on our toes.

But why does it take innovations from Japan so long to cross the Pacific?

When Janet lived and worked in Japan for a year, she noted that home computers were much less common than in America.  I was surprised this was the case for such an advanced nation, but then again, most people don't have clothes dryers there, either.  What did surprise me was to learn that in this Japan was not behind America, but ahead.  Most Japanese did not need personal computers because they did nearly everything they wanted to on their mobile phones.  They accessed the Internet; they paid their bills; they read and composed their e-mails.  This was in 2005, years before smartphones took America by storm.

Then there were the toilets.  Ever since we visited Janet in Japan I have been wondering why Home Depot doesn't sell Japanese toilets.  Now, finally, the National Association of Home Builders includes one in this years showcase home.  But why does this review from the Orlando Sentinel pretend it's a new, American invention?

I cannot get the toilet in the master bath out of my mind. Kohler clearly has some smart woman on its design team, because, ladies, this commode is for you.

At the touch of a wall-mounted LED pad that looks like an iPhone, you can auto-magically raise and lower the lid without touching it. That right there is better than a European vacation. And you can heat the seat (men, you will never understand), and play music. Not only that, this smart piece of plumbing sprays, dries and has adjustable flushing. From what I can tell, this toilet of tomorrow does everything but send a urine sample to the lab.

I"m glad American companies are catching on.  But what took them so long?  And why do we pretend things are new and amazing when they've been around elsewhere for years?

Still famous after all these years.  Check out the news about the light a copy sheds on da Vinci's masterpiece.  (Just a quick post for those interested in art.  Those interested in Joseph & Vivienne updates will have to wait, sorry.)  (Thanks, Aunt Karen.)

We interrupt the Life with Joseph series to bring you this very important post from the Occasional CEO:  Lowell on the Yangtze.

Whenever I read about the Industrial Revolution—or watch a movie like How Green Was My Valley, I can't help thinking that it could have been done better.  Couldn't we have had automation and factories without all that dislocation, degradation and filth?

Of course we could have.  Raping the landscape, tearing families apart, and keeping workers in virtual slavery are not essential to production—if businesses are willing to take a little less profit, and consumers to pay a little more for the product.  But that's not how it happened. (More)

Do e-mail, SMS, Facebook, Skype, and other quick-and-easy forms of communication, in an increasingly non-literate society, spell doom for the U.S. Postal Service?  We'd better hope not, especially those of us who like to send and receive packages.  If you think mailing a package overseas is outrageously expensive—and I do, except for the great Priority Mail Large Video Box—try using one of the other parcel services.  

I never thought I'd be saying this, but I think one problem the U.S. Postal Service has is that the prices are too low. It costs our daughter twice as much to send a letter from Switzerland as it costs us to write back. (Though they do get to design and print their own stamps for no additional charge!  There's nothing like getting a letter with a picture of your grandchild on it.) And this is what one Canadian eBay seller has to say:

Although I live in Canada, in Winnipeg, I make the 150 mile round-trip to Neche, North Dakota, to mail most parcels ... this allows me to pass on the savings in postage from USPS, which is a lot cheaper than Canada Post (and faster). In fact, it is even cheaper to ship books back to Canada from the USA, [than] it is to ship them in Canada, unless they are very thin!

I don't like the upcoming postal increase any more than the next person, but I'll happily pay more if that reflects the true cost of the service.  Let's continue to expect the best from our postal service, and give them the resources needed to do the job right.

[I know most of you are waiting for Baby News, but as that has not yet been forthcoming, I have to improvise.]

A series of experiments at Notre Dame sheds light on on the perennial "Why did I come into this room?" question.  Here are some excerpts from the Scientific American article, Why Walking through a Doorway Makes You Forget.  Most of the experiments were done in a video-game context, but the same effect was seen in real-life versions as well.

[Participants played a video game in which] they would walk up to a table with a colored geometric solid sitting on it. Their task was to pick up the object and take it to another table, where they would put the object down and pick up a new one. Whichever object they were currently carrying was invisible to them, as if it were in a virtual backpack.  Sometimes, to get to the next object the participant simply walked across the room. Other times, they had to walk the same distance, but through a door into a new room. From time to time, the researchers gave them a pop quiz, asking which object was currently in their backpack.  The quiz was timed so that when they walked through a doorway, they were tested right afterwards.  Their responses were both slower and less accurate when they'd walked through a doorway into a new room than when they'd walked the same distance within the same room.

Usually, returning to the room I started from will remind me of why I left in the first place.  But the researchers did not find that to be the case in their experiments.

[P]articipants sometimes picked up an object, walked through a door, and then walked through a second door that brought them either to a new room or back to the first room.  If matching the context is what counts, then walking back to the old room should boost recall. It did not.

The doorway effect suggests that there's more to the remembering than just what you paid attention to, when it happened, and how hard you tried.  Instead, some forms of memory seem to be optimized to keep information ready-to-hand until its shelf life expires, and then purge that information in favor of new stuff. ... [W]alking through a doorway is a good time to purge your event models because whatever happened in the old room is likely to become less relevant now that you have changed venues. ... Other changes may induce a purge as well:  A friend knocks on the door, you finish the task you were working on, or your computer battery runs down and you have to plug in to recharge.

Why would we have a memory system set up to forget things as soon as we finish one thing and move on to another?  Because we can’t keep everything ready-to-hand, and most of the time the system functions beautifully.

Take heart, distracted mothers!  That which frustrates you so badly was apparently designed to help with the rapid context-switching essential to your vocation.

— 1 —

Don't forget NORAD Tracks Santa!  (I see they have some new videos this year.)  As I write this, Santa is at the International Space Station.  I'd love to see what a reindeer wears for a space suit.

— 2 —

This is for our children, who never considered themselves Disney fans as the world knows Disney, but who grew up in Mickey's backyard.  Happy memories! (H/T Richard S. and the GGGAMB)

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!

— 1 —

This will be my last 7 Quick Takes Friday, at least on a regular basis.  It's been fun thinking in this way, and I have enjoyed reading other people's Quick Takes.  But it takes a lot of time (it's not "quick" for the writer, at least not for me), and if I spread the work out over the week, well, why not publish immediately rather than wait till Friday?  I think getting seven posts all at once overwhelms some of my readers, too.  Perhaps I'll do more 7 Quick Thanks posts, or gradually collect short posts around a theme for an occasional 7 Quick Takes.

It's probably due more to the season than to my joining the 7 Quick Takes gang, but I've been overwhelmed with spam comments since commencing.  I wonder if it will drop off now (whether due to my dropping out or to the end of the infamous Shopping Season), or if that door has been opened never to close.

Any real, human readers who stopped by via the 7 Quick Takes program are welcome to come here directly.  :)

— 2 —

Requiem Aeternam Dona Ei, Domine.   One of my strongest memories from 1968 is the feeling of desolation as Soviet tanks rolled into Czechoslovakia. RIP Václav Havel.

"Truth and love must prevail over lies and hate."

— 3 —

Steven E. Landsburg was a math classmate of mine at the University of Rochester.  I remember him chiefly for his brilliance and for his decision to forgo a bachelor's degree in favor of a master's because the master's program had no physical education and language requirements.  (The link in his name takes you to the Wikipedia article on Steve, which has, as far as I can tell, at least one error—I believe it was his bachelor's degree, not his master's, that he received after becoming a professor of economics at the U of R.  The University of Chicago would hardly have accepted him into its PhD program with no degree at all.)  Steve appeared in the Wall Street Journal last month with this article:  A Short Econ Quiz for the Super Committee.  Here's how it ends:

The government's chief asset—in fact, pretty much its only asset—is its ability to tax people, now and in the future. The taxpayers are the government's ATM. Make a withdrawal today, and there's less available tomorrow.

Now the ability to tax is a pretty huge asset and the government has not (yet!) come close to depleting it. In that sense, there's a lot of money in the bank. But no matter how much you've got in the bank, a policy of ever-increasing withdrawals is nothing at all like a decision to earn more income. It's important to get the analogy right. And it's clear from the blogs and the op-ed pages that not everybody gets this.

Instead, the notion persists that an extra trillion in federal spending can be converted from "irresponsible" to "responsible" as long as it's accompanied by an extra trillion in tax hikes. That's like saying a $500 haircut can be converted from "irresponsible'' to "responsible'' as long as you withdraw the $500 from your bank account. If the super committee loses sight of this fundamental truth, it is doomed to fail.

Once upon a time, the United States had huge assets independent of its ability to tax people.  We had the better part of a whole continent, in fact.  Sometimes I wonder if we were any wiser than Napoleon in disposing of our riches.

— 4 —

Too Much of a Good Thing? I love Christmas music, and we have a huge collection thereof:  over 500 songs at last count, from Medieval chant to Mannheim Steamroller.  I'm not complaining!  But I do wonder, occasionally, if I might have been richer as a young child, with three or four 33 1/3 rpm vinyl records of Christmas music that I loved dearly, knowing nearly every word, note, and album cover by heart.

— 5 —

Brad Smith.  Brad who?  That's what I said.  Our Christmas collection has been enriched by the fact that Janet's massive CD collection largely resides with us, and this year I added her Christmas music to the playlist on the mp3 player that pours out random Christmas treats as we go about our work.  With all the new music, I often found myself thinking, "That's a wonderful arrangement; what's it from?"  Time and time again the answer turned out to be Brad Smith's The Gift:  A Christmas Celebration.  (Click on the link to hear samples.)  A little research revealed that Brad Smith is a master craftsman—a woodworker.  But he is also an artist of a different sort, a musician—a master of the oboe and English horn, as a matter of fact, which explains both his presence in Janet's collection and my captivation with his music.

— 6 —

 Variations on a Dream (Cookie).   Dream Cookies were a favorite with my family growing up, and equally so with our family now.  I don't know where the original recipe came from; as far as I'm concerned, it's my mother's.  :)  It came a bit later in my life than the other cookie recipes I consider essential for a traditional Christmas, but I'll bet my siblings don't remember a time without Dream Cookies.  Here is the original recipe:

Dream Cookies

• 1 cup butter, softened  (Actually, we often used margarine, back in the days when it was considered healthier.  The taste was still good, though different.)
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 2 cups flour
• 1 pinch salt
• 1 teaspoon baking powder

Preheat oven to 300°F.  Cream butter; add sugar, and beat until light.  Mix in vanilla.  Sift dry ingredients together.  Add and mix well.  Form into small balls; dip in colored sugar crystals and place on ungreased cookie sheet.  Bake for about 18 minutes until done but not browned.  Alternatively, instead of dipping dough in sugar crystals, try dipping warm, baked cookies in a mixture of ¼ cup confectioner's sugar and 1 teaspoon nutmeg.

And here's the new version I created recently.  It was a huge hit.

Variations on a Dream

• 1 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup sugar
• 3/4 teaspoon Penzeys double-strength vanilla (Regular vanilla would probably do.)
• 1 tablespoon Penzeys almond extract (I'm a Penzeys snob, but you could use another brand.)
• 2 cups King Arthur white whole wheat flour (Does anyone else make white whole wheat flour?)
• 1 pinch salt
• 1 teaspoon baking powder

Preheat oven to 300°F.  Cream butter; add sugar, and beat until light.  Mix in vanilla and almond flavorings.  Stir dry ingredients together.  Add and mix well.  Form into small balls (we always did this by hand, but I find my new cookie scoop works very well, too); dip in colored sugar crystals and place on ungreased cookie sheet.  Bake for about 18 minutes until done but not browned.  I suspect the powdered sugar/nutmeg version would not work well with the almond flavor, but who knows?

— 7 —

Thoughts on the Incarnation.  For years I unthinkingly accepted the admonition that Easter should be a more important holiday for Christians than Christmas.  After all, the resurrection of Christ is the one spectacular event on which Christianity stands or falls.

Or is it?  If it is unique and astonishing that a man so clearly dead should in three days be so clearly alive, and alive in such a new way that he has a physical body (that can be touched, and fed) and yet comes and goes through space in a manner more befitting science fiction—is it any less unique and astonishing that God, the creator of all that is, seen and unseen, should become a human being, not in the shape-shifting ways of the Greek gods, but through physical birth, with human limitations?

Debating which holiday is more significant for a Christian is like asking whether my left or my right leg is more important for running.

A very Merry Christmas to all !

God bless us, every one.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

— 1 —

This is for my Carngie Mellon MechE grad daughter, who loves gears.  Check out the rest of this Celebrating a Simple Life post for more fascinating videos and a TED lecture by kinetic sculptor David Roy.

— 2 —

One of my favorite lost causes.  Just when the Republicans have about convinced me to vote for Barack Obama in the coming election, along comes Joe Biden to shove me in the other direction.  The Obama administration has given up on the dollar coin.    "Nobody wants them," Biden said.  One would think a politician would know better than to call any voter a "nobody."  I want the dollar coins, very much, and make a point of spending them when I get the opportunity.  I'd like to see two- and five-dollar coins, as well.  What I don't want are 1-, 5-, and maybe even 10-cent coins. and yet "the Mint says it is committed to producing the one-cent pieces."  My Favorite Economist says that is technically an incorrect statement:  The Mint has nothing to say about what gets minted—that is completely up to Congress.  Which is why the dollar coins will still be minted in limited quantities.  It's also a specious argument to say that eliminating the coin will save $50 million per year, without mentioning how much would be saved by eliminating the dollar bill.  I've seen estimates ranging from $183 million to $500 million per year, depending on whether or not we bite the bullet and close down the secondary branch of the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.  Here's more from My Favorite Economist:

Getting rid of the bill makes more sense.  Did we have 10-cent bills when we were kids?  A dime from then (pre-65) is worth over $2.30 in silver now.  Even using the government's own inflation numbers a dollar is down to 13.7 cents from 1964.

Politically, however, the powerful states Massachusetts and Texas are both against the idea.  Massachusetts is where the paper for our currency is made, and the second Bureau of Engraving and Printing—which could be eliminated if the $1 bill were no longer printed—is in Texas.  In this season of "payroll tax holidays" and other stupid PR moves to give the public bread and circuses, reasoned argument does not prevail.

Americans are wedded to the $1 bill because they think if it exists it will still be worth something.  Getting rid of it is a psychological admission that the currency has gone to junk.  Same thing about the utterly useless cent.  Now there is a coin the Congress should eliminate.

You can read more about the benefits of replacing small-denomination bills with coins from the Dollar Coin Alliance.  The EU, Switzerland, the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and Japan are among the major countries where the change in your pocket has real value.  If we can't muster the political will to make this change, what hope do we ever have of adopting the metric system?  That switch was predicted to be "imminent" when I was a child ... half a century ago.

— 3 —

The Tooth Fairy Economy.  It's all well and good to talk about inflation-adjusted dollar values, but what does it all mean?  When I was losing my primary teeth 50+ years ago, the Tooth Fairy routinely left a dime under my pillow (molars earned a quarter, presumably because of their size).  In 2011, according to the Official Tooth Fairy Poll, the average American child received $2.52 per tooth.  (I think the Tooth Fairy should leave coins, not bills, which is a bit awkward when your largest widely-circulating coin is the quarter.)

Do you want to know how the American economy is doing?  Forget Dow Jones and the NASDAQ—check out the Tooth Fairy Market Price:

— 4 —

My Political Statement.  This year we ended our Christmas newsletter with the following:  I’ve spared you the mundane as well as the bad, the ugly, and a lot more of the good than you see here.  You don’t need to know about work frustrations (but still employed), computer problems (but still functioning), or health issues (but much to be thankful for); no doubt you have plenty of your own.  And you certainly don’t want to hear any comments about the current political or economic situation!  I'm sure that's true of most people, but one friend responded, "I would be very interested in your comments about the current political situation!."  So this is for you, Jamie.  (Not that I have any assurance that he ever reads this blog.....)

1. We have a Democratic president, many of whose policies I think are disastrous.  I pray for him daily.
2. We have a Republican state governor, many of whose policies I think are disastrous.  I pray for him daily.
3. In our most recent election I voted—with pleasure—in our non-partisan city mayoral race for someone with whom I have many areas of disagreement but who I believe has done a good job in the past.  I pray for her daily.
4. I wish I could make more political decisions as in #3.  I am not holding my breath.  But I'm still praying.

— 5 —

A Plug for Penzeys.  Is is possible to have a political disagreement over spices?  Bill Penzey frequently writes essays in their catalogue that have political implications with which I disagree strongly.  (I've tried to engage in conversation, but for some reason he's too busy—providing the seasonings I love—to write back.)  That doesn't change a bit what I've said before:

Penzeys can be considered the Cadillac of spices.  You can certainly find herbs and spices for less money elsewhere.  But there are times when it's worth paying a little extra for quality, and quality is where Penzeys excels.  Variety, too—they have exotic herbs and spices I'd never heard of, plus a stunning variety of their own excellent blends.  They even excel in quantity, from tiny jars for the spices you use rarely, to large bags (at a commensurately lower per-ounce price) for greater needs.

My recent Penzeys experience deserves a public accolade, so here it is.

I was seeking a small gift that would say "thank you" to some people whose kindness I had particularly felt recently, and was having a hard time finding something that would be (1) appreciated, (2) healthful, (3) consumable, and (4) a little different.  Then my Penzeys catalogue arrived.

Their latest promotion, the Kind Heart gift box, is billed as "the perfect gift for those whose little acts of kindness have brightened your life."  Voilà!  I picked up the telephone.  When the representative told me the total price, I said, "That can't be right."  She replied, "Oh, if you think it's important to thank these people, it's important to us, too.  All you pay is the shipping charges."  That wasn't advertised!  It sure brightened my day, not so much for the savings, though they were appreciated, but for the delightful surprise and the attitude.  Of course you can't stay in business for long that way, and Penzeys is a good business.  What's particularly encouraging is they don't find any contradiction in being simultaneously committed to good quality, good business, and good deeds.

— 6 —

Oatmeal Season.  Our weather has been warm again for a while—in that lovely range when the HVAC blows neither hot nor cold—but the first cold snap of the year was sufficient to reset my breakfast habits.  In the hot months I eat (homemade) granola, and in the cold, oatmeal (steel-cut Irish, or "old fashioned" rolled oats; not <shudder> the flavored, instant variety).  I really like oatmeal cooked in milk, but I use water to make clean-up easier, and add dry milk powder at the very end.  To me, oatmeal requires raisins.  The other flavorings I use include maple syrup, honey, brown sugar, cinnamon sugar, Penzeys Cake Spice sugar, various jams—or nothing at all (the steel-cut oats have a wonderful taste by themselves).  It's great to have a food that I love to eat and is good for me!  I'm not sure why oatmeal has such bad press, unless it's because of those packets of over-sweetened, over-processed mush that bear the same name on the grocery shelves....

— 7 —

Thanks to the Occasional CEO, I now understand more about the new generation gap in communications.  Previous communication gaps had more to do with content than method, but this one is fundamental.

E-mail is a wonderful means of communication for those of us who love language and communicate better when we have time to think.  It has most of the advantages of postal mail but is much faster.

Our nephews (and their parents) text all the time.  I'll agree that texting has its place, but in my world that place is small and limited.  Since my cell phone doesn't do e-mail, I like texts when I'm away from home because you can send a message without (needing to) interrupt the recipient.  (It's even better when communicating with Switzerland, where texts are free for the recipient and for the sender cost a whole lot less than calls to a foreign cell phone.)  But even with a full keyboard (which my phone doesn't have), you still have to peck out a message one letter at a time, leading to incomplete sentences, lack of punctuation, and abbreviations, which are like fingernails on a blackboard to me.  U C?

Using the word "blackboard" reveals my age also, neh?

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

A Facebook discussion set me to pondering what I have learned through the years about necessary and unnecessary stress at Christmastime.  Yes, I think there is such a thing as necessary stress.  The discussion was prompted by this quotation from Ann Voskamp:  Whenever Christmas begins to burden, it’s a sign that I’ve taken on something of the world and not of Christ. Any weight in Christmas has to be of this world.

I appreciate the point, but I beg to differ, slightly.

The Christmas season, like all other seasons, has its own burdens and blessings. The work that goes into it, like the work that goes into life, can be delightful and can be stressful. I don't think it's a sign that we're doing something not of Christ just because it's stressful or burdensome.  Good things take work.  Labor, as in the birth of a baby.  The more effortless a work of art looks, and the more joy it brings to others (inspiring musical performance; smoothly-running household; creative, confident, well-behaved children), the more labor you can assume went into it.  Yet there's no denying that we can get so caught up in the effort that we miss the point, be it Christmas, or a wedding, or life itself.  (More)

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Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, but I wish we celebrated it in October, like the Canadians.  For one thing, winter weather would be much less likely to interfere with "over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go."  Okay, in this case, it's Grandmother who does the travelling, but you get the point.  October is a better time to have a harvest festival, anyway.  And since the commercial interests have already declared that the entire last quarter of the year is the Christmas shopping season, they could kick it off with Thanksgiving the way they used to.

— 2 —

It's almost impossible to celebrate the succession of Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany in modern America.   Another benefit of moving Thanksgiving to October would be that it it would no longer step on Advent.  We almost always miss the solemn and lovely First Sunday in Advent because of our Thanksgiving travels.  Worse, it's difficult to concentrate on reflection, self-examination, repentence, and anticipation of Christ's return when everything around you—including most churches—is shouting, "Christmas!"  It's also unneighborly to be fasting when others invite you to a feast.

Then, when the anticipation has reached its height, and Christmas has been welcomed with bells on the midnight between December 24 and 25, and you are ready for a twelve-day-long celebration, the rest of the country stops caring.  Abruptly.  Around noon of the 25th.  The atmosphere becomes positively Grinchy.  Christmas trees, many having been decorated since before December began, are back in the attic, if not the trash, before Epiphany.  Epiphany?  What's that?  Perhaps one benefit of our growing Hispanic population will be a rebirth of the Three Kings holiday.

— 3 —

So, we compromise.  I'm thankful to be in a church that celebrates Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany.  But I do try not to be Grinchy myself, and to go along with this peculiar admixture of Advent and Christmas.  Unless we live in a cloistered community, it's unfriendly, not to mention quite against the spirit of the season—especially Epiphany—to shut ourselves off from our neighbors' joy.  Besides, we'd miss some of the best music of the year!

— 4 —

Christmas in the Park.  Every year on the first Thursday of December, the Morse Museum brings some of its beautiful Tiffany stained glass windows, along with the Bach Festival Choir, to nearby Central Park to celebrate Christmas.  For Morse members, this was preceded by a reception at the museum.  The food was good, but we recognized no one, not even the musicians.  Nonetheless, a woman came up to me and asked, "Do I know you?"  I couldn't place her at all, not that that means much, given my memory for names and faces.  But it was my brown and white sweatshirt she knew.  "Did you go to Westtown?  I graduated from Westtown, and so did my husband."  I explained that it was my nephews that went there, and I got the sweatshirt.  Amazing, I said, that we were talking about the same Westtown.  Drawing herself up, she replied, "There is only one Westtown."  Then she laughed, and added, "Only one brown-and-white, Quaker Westtown, anyway!"

After the reception we walked to the park, and met up with some friends we hadn't seen in a while.  It's a good thing we had cell phones, because the park was so packed with people we couldn't even get a good look at the famous windows, let alone find someone in the crowd.  The window depicted to the left is Christmas Eve, ca. 1902.  If God the Father looks a bit like Santa Claus, that's no coincidence:  the window was designed by the son of Thomas Nast.  There's some debate over who that figure is meant to be—it may be St. Nicholas—but I'm siding with those who call it a depiction of the Father, to complete the Trinity; it's hard to tell in this small view, but the Christ Child is holding a dove.)

It was a great concert, as outdoor performances go, beginning with standard carols and then branching into more interesting and lesser-known songs.  The audience was invited to sing along, and the four of us had a blast singing all the verses of our favorites.  We even did pretty well with the Hallelujah Chorus, although it's hard to keep track of the parts without music.  (We made a quartet:  soprano, alto, tenor, bass.)

Winter Park is as close to a European city as you can find around here.  Walking along, we were reminded of last year's Christmas adventure in Strasbourg, France—only more crowded and without the chance of slipping on the ice and sliding into a frigid river.

— 5 —

Advent Lessons and Carols.  Three days later, we were back in Advent, at the Cathedral Church of St. Luke.  Sadly, there are reasons we can't make that our home church, but it has the best music in town.  We sang not one contemporary "praise song," but instead:  Come, Thou Redeemer of the Earth; Creator of the Stars of Night; Hark! A Thrilling Voice Is Sounding; On Jordan's Bank the Baptist's Cry (second time that day); Sleepers Wake! and O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.  All verses, even of the last.  Interspersed with these were Scripture lessons and offerings from the choir that included works by Bach (Lord Christ, the Only Son of God), Palestrina (Advent Matins Responsory), Heinrich Biber (thee of his Rosary Sonatas), John Rutter (Nativity Carol), Javier Busto (Ave Maria), Peter Mathews (Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem), and Benjamin Lane (Advent Vespers Responsory), plus a spiritual (My Lord, What a Mornin'), a Medieval English Carol (There is No Rose), and more!

As an unplanned bonus, we met and sat with our favorite elementary school music teacher.  It was good to catch up with her.

— 6 —

Speaking of elementary school music, here's a version of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus from some fifth graders in Quinhagak, Alaska.  Since it was a computer project done by students, I can forgive the misplaced apostrophes, usually a pet peeve of mine.  (The teacher commented, "I now have a very teachable moment once we start school again.")  I wonder, however, what was the source of their text.  Can you spot the two interesting errors I found?

UPDATE 8/15/19:  At some point over time, the end of #6 and the beginning of #7 went missing.  I have no idea why.

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We will never forget.

A day that will live in infamy.

Forever is a long time.  How long will it be, I wonder, before the most recent unprovoked, surprise attack on American soil is as distant a memory as the one before?

I usually judge society's remembrance of an event by how often it is mentioned in the comic strips.  Back in 2006, BC and Mallard Fillmore were among the few that commemorated the day.  Today, I found none at all.

But a 70 year anniversary deserves recognition:  Today is, and will always be, Pearl Harbor Day.

— 1 —

(In)Security.  Here's another of the TED talks I accumulate from various places; unfortunately I no longer remember who to credit for the tip.  Security expert Bruce Schneier speaks on our models of security, our feelings of security, and why these often differ from the reality of our security.  I wish he had given more concrete examples, but it's still a good talk, especially at the beginning when he makes the point that all security decisions are tradeoffs, and the proper question to ask is not so much, "Does this make us safer?" as "Is it worth the cost?"  He's probably thinking about national and computer security, but the application that immediately jumps to my mind is parenthood.  Whether it's airport body scanners, tamper-proof bottles, or removing tall slides from playgrounds, it's important to realize that security—or even the illusion of security—comes at a cost.

UPDATE 8/15/19:  At some point over time, a large chunck of this post—numbers 2-7—went missing.  I have no idea why.  The video below obviously went with one of the missing posts.

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No time for Seven Quick Takes, so here are Seven Quick Thanks:

• Extended family who love getting together and enjoying our similarities and differences,
• All of our grandchildren, with their unique personalities,
• Home-grown potatoes,
• Home-grown music!
• Our eight-year-old grandson, whose birthday is today!
• Watching that same grandson with his nose in a book that I loved as a child,
• That all of our children, grandchildren, and nephews love to read or to be read to.