You want the tooth?

YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TOOTH!!!

You should’ve seen the look on the dental hygienists’ face today when, before I sat down in the hot seat, I asked her if I could have a copy of my x-ray. I wanted to say, “See, I’m a blogger and I want to write a post about how the tooth I am having pulled today is some sort of metaphor for life, dealing with rejection or something like that.”

But I didn’t

I just let her draw her own conclusion.

Meanwhile she printed my x-ray out.

Look at Number 31 there; the 12-year molar on my rear passenger side. The root is missing. The technical term is Root Resorbtion, which basically means that my body decided that it shouldn’t be there anymore and started dissolving it. Supposedly it usually begins with some sort of trauma to the tooth in question, but I don’t think that was the case with this guy. He just didn’t fit in and they rejected him for some reason.

My mouth is full of bullies I guess.

So I went ahead and had it pulled before it caused me too much pain.

Okay, so my blog post idea didn’t really work out all that well. I had a similar thought the other night when I was standing in the back yard looking at the solid sheet of seemingly pristine snow lit only by the glow of the moon. It had fallen the night before and the top had formed a light crust where it had melted and refrozen. The part that struck me though was the footprints.

There were my big moon-boot prints leading out to the dog pen. There was a line of rabbit tracks and a few winding cat tracks. There were several small bird tracks that wound around randomly. There was even one that looked like another dog’s that led into the yard, made a few circles around Chopper’s pen, and then made a bee-line out the other side. All of the tracks made these cool lines and patterns around the yard that were downright fascinating to look at, like some sort of bizarre road map.

And once again I thought, I could write a blog post about this. I’m sure I could come up with some story about how it represents our life journeys or the mark we leave on others when we pass through their lives.

But once again, that’s where it ended.

I guess it’s the price one pays for being a blogger.

So instead, I made it into a Jack Nicholson quote.

Oh well.

Welcome Back

Wow!

I guess I took a bit of an unintentional blogging hiatus.

I’m sure you were all distraught imagining what in the world could’ve happened to the ArachNerd.

Right?

Seriously?

But NEVER FEAR faithful followers! Here I am! (To rock you like a hurricane!)

The short answer, as it usually is in these situations, is a severe lack of extra time. Even as silly and mundane as many of my posts are, they still take time to write. And I have had a bit of a time shortage the last few weeks.

The problem is that I’ve gone back to school.

Now, I am under no delusion that I am the only adult to ever sign up for classes. I am not so self-centered to think that my situation is unique in any way. But I haven’t been in a traditional classroom situation in sixteen years. And now all of a sudden I have papers to write, chapters to read in books that I’m not really interested in, and projects to complete. Not that any of these things are all that difficult. It’s just that I am not yet back into a routine.

I was never all that fond of school anyway, but getting a degree has long been one of my goals. And suddenly I find myself in a place where the timing is finally right.  And I would never forgive myself if I didn’t follow through.

So that’s where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing.

Plus evening classes interfere with the new season of Chuck. So I have that to deal with too. (Oh the humanity!)

But now that I am starting to get back into the swing of things, I will try to keep blogging. It may only be once a week and even then it may just be scattered ramblings, but I will make a commitment to do it.

Aren’t you lucky?

Christmas 2009

It’s beginning to not feel much like Christmas.

It’s just a week away, and so far I’m anything but jolly.

Papa teaching his Punkin' how to fish

The Sunday after Thanksgiving, we took my wife’s father to the emergency room. This was not an uncommon occurrence. The last few years he has been in and out of hospitals and doctors’ offices on a regular basis. He has been poked and prodded and tested until we had almost accepted it as a way of life.

This time was different though. When test results came back and they told him that he had lung cancer and a considerable number of metastatic tumors in his liver and probably more elsewhere, he experienced a bizarre, brief moment of relief. We could see it in his face. There was a sense of, “SEE. I told you there was something wrong! NOW do you believe me?” And in a weird way, it brought him a certain level of peace just to know exactly what was making him feel like he was. Not knowing was driving him crazy, especially since he knew it had to be something.

Things soon took a turn for the worse and they transferred him to a nursing home closer to our house, where he lived for less than ten hours.

Needless to say, the holiday season this year has taken on a completely different atmosphere.

During his hospitalization, we tried to use normal holiday activities, like putting up trees & stringing lights, as a kind of distraction. It was a way to get our minds off of our own exhaustion and the issues at hand during those rare few minutes a day we had at home.

We’ve also been watching terrible, mostly made-for-TV holiday movies and some of my favorites like Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas and A Wish for Wings that Work. We’ve set out our extensive collection of Christmas music and listened to some of it. We’ve purchased and wrapped entirely too many presents. We’ve driven around town and looked at people’s lights and decorations. But there’s no escaping it; this year is just going to be different.

I will miss my father-in-law. We never had much in common outside of our love for my wife. And as a result we never had much to talk about. But I liked him. He made me laugh when he would sit and purposely provoke his daughters just to get a rise out of them. Or the way his face would light-up whenever he saw his Granddaughter.

His absence will be unmistakable to everyone in my family. There will be a hole where he was – where he should be.

But Christmas, like life, will go on.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

SkyWatch Friday Five

Okay, so maybe that whole Tryptophan thing is just an urban myth, but there’s no denying that those big Thanksgiving meals can sap the life right out of you! Therefore, since we did Thankful songs last year, I thought it would be appropriate to highlight another holiday tradition, the afternoon nap!

1. Behind the Wall of Sleep – the Smithereens
2. The Devil Never Sleeps – Iron & Wine
3. Come Into My Sleep – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
4. Sleepwalker – the Wallflowers
5. Talking in Your Sleep – The Romantics

 

Thanksgiving Morning

Once the bird was in the oven, the potatoes peeled, and the dressing mixed, a cabinet drawer was opened and a white note card was removed. Well, it’s not really white anymore. It’s yellowed with age, stained & bent. (There might even be a small cigarette burn on one side.) It’s hand-written in ink. Words are scratched out and changed. Some of it is hard to read. But no one cares.

It’s titled, “My Bread”.

It’s a recipe for yeast rolls that my Grandma made for every holiday meal when I was growing up. At some point after Grandpa passed away, Grandma gave it to my wife.

The torch was passed.

So this morning we are making bread; more bread than any of us possibly need. There has to be enough made that everyone can take home leftovers for breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s part of the tradition. And as one of my Facebook friends said yesterday, traditions are important.

We have to hang on to those traditions of the past, even as we make new ones.

On this Thanksgiving Day, as we sit around the big table and pass the rolls (or as we say in the church, “break bread together”) I will be thinking about those traditions and the people who have passed them on to younger generations. And I will be thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving!

SkyWatch Friday Five

I love Autumn; the crisp air, the beautiful colors of nature, the chance to break out the sweatshirts & jackets, the realization that the holiday season is quickly approaching…

Wait a minute. The holiday season is quickly approaching?

Holy crap!

I better start Christmas shopping!

How about a few FALL songs in the meantime?

1. I Fall Down – U2
2. Fall Line – Jack Johnson
3. I Fall to Pieces – Patsy Cline
4. Falling Slowly – Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova
5. I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You – Tom Waits

And as an added bonus, the song that Michael Stipe has referred to as his favorite REM song (and definitely one of mine too)…

 

Friday Five – Paraskevidekatriaphobia

Paraskevidekatriaphobia: from the Greek words Paraskeví (Friday), dekatreís (thirteen), and phobia (fear) – in other words, it’s the fear of Friday the 13th!

A persistent superstition based on the belief that Friday is an unlucky day combined with the belief that 13 is an unlucky number. It’s kind of like a double kick in the “you-know-whats”.

1. Superstition – Stevie Wonder
2. Bad Luck – Bruce Springsteen & Mike Ness (Social Distortion)
3. Thirteen – Big Star
4. Bad Luck Blue Eyes Goodbye – Black Crowes
5. Mr. Lucky - John Lee Hooker (w/ Robert Cray)

 

SkyWatch Friday

An early morning moon, still visible in the sunlight.

SkyWatch Friday Five

The sky was blue & cloudless on Sunday afternoon, but I was able to snap this picture of a little bird in the tree by our garage. I think it’s a starling, but I’m not sure.

1. Three Little Birds – Bob Marley & the Wailers
2. Maybe Sparrow – Neko Case
3. When Doves Cry – Prince & the Revolution
4. Swan Swan Hummingbird – R.E.M.
5. Roadrunner – Bo Diddley (One of my favorite versions of this song was made for the Backbeat soundtrack, which was actually a cover of a cover… Dave Grohl, Dave Pirner, Thurston Moore, Mike Mills, Greg Dulli and Don Fleming as the very young Beatles covering Bo Diddley – sounds weird, but it’s awesome.)

And, just in case you hadn’t heard…

Dona Nobis Pacem

Blogging For Peace

Click my peace globe to read Mimi's fantastic BlogBlast post as well as links to hundreds more from around the world

 

In a world that is ravaged by chaos, war, tragedy, conflict and hatred, it is difficult to look around and be optimistic.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while, ever since I listened to a podcast episode of NPR’s RadioLab called “New Normal”. It opened with a short piece in which a reporter followed around a guy, John Horgan, through the streets of Hoboken conducting an informal, one question survey. “Will humans ever stop fighting wars?”

It’s a question he has been asking people ever since the United Stated invaded Iraq in 2003.

Its one of life’s unanswerable questions. And as John explains, it’s not just a question about war. It’s a question about whether or not humans possess the ability to change who and what we are.

An overwhelming majority, 9 out of 10, answered quickly and adamantly, “NO”. Many of the explanations involved the term “Human Nature”.

Can we change?

Is peace possible?

As a Christian, I try to live my life in a way that embraces hope and love. I have to believe that peace on earth is a worthwhile and attainable goal. It is still hard to be optimistic, but I have to believe that it’s possible.

However, as a human, the best I can do is to change me.

Which is why, like Mother Theresa, I want the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi to be my prayer every day. Because it’s not about assigning blame or responsibility; it’s about taking it.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

It’s also why I am participating in today’s BlogBlast for Peace; a day when bloggers around the world unite in a moment of solidarity, regardless of our differences, to embrace the hope of Peace on Earth.

Dona Nobis Pacem