Is it just about the music?

i believed in god when i was younger, but then he changed. it used to be about the music.

-brandon

Now this statement is funny, very funny. In fact, it was so funny that I had to get in touch with Brandon and ask him if I could quote him.

It alludes to the rock star that sold out. One who just doesn't put his heart and soul into his craft anymore.

But the funny thing is when I was a child church was all about the music.

When I was very young I often tagged along to a very straight laced very fundamentalist church with my best friend from elementary school. The church rules included a strict dress code and didn't allow dancing, but boy did this church have hymns that you could sing. I mean really belt it out, feel the spirit move through your body songs. Once a week or so l got to feel that glorious feeling.

I enjoyed the music of the church.

When I got older, I went less and less. One of the reasons was probably because I found music out in the world that affected me the very same way. Music that I could belt out and would move through me and make my spirit sing. All kinds of music. All kinds of people singing it. I could feel this feeling any time I wanted.

I enjoyed the music of the world even more.

Then I found other people who liked the same kind of music I liked. Who also felt passionately about music. I started to commune with those people.

I enjoyed a community of friends who loved music.

I went for a long long time without going to a church service.

And it's not because I don't believe in a higher power. I am very spiritual. I just don't necessarily have to commune with the universe inside a particular building at a particular time.

A recent move made me consider making new acquaintances by going to church.

I found a Unitarian Universalist Church that looked interesting.

I pulled into the parking lot and noticed that the car next to me had a bumper sticker. I read the bumper sticker, and agreed with it. I noticed that the car next to it, and next to it, and next to it each had bumper stickers as well. I walked the row reading bumper stickers and agreeing with them.

My car was the only car in four rows without a bumper sticker.

It's not that I don't feel passionately about things, it's just that I don't like the idea of someone rear ending me while trying to get a handle on my political agenda. I've also scraped a couple off of cars, and it's a pain.

All of these cars had owners who not only cared passionately about displaying their bumper stuck views to the world they didn't care if they got tennis elbow scraping them off or into an accident with a near sighted tailgater.

I remember thinking, my god, I've found my people.

I went inside and was greeted pleasantly. I sat in a pew and looked around. I was in a big airy room with a lot of light and many lush living plants.

The minister started speaking. He was interesting, thought provoking, funny, quoted Einstein and Buddha in the same paragraph and had a folksy way about him.

Then we were asked to join him in song.

I opened my hymnal to the required page and began to sing with the congregation.

Now I don't know a lot about this particular denomination. I do know that they aren't bible thumpers and that their teaching leans toward the liberal. So, no fire and brimstone, no holy trinity, no confession, no need for praying to the higher power through an intermediary. You could wear jeans to church and not lift an eyebrow. All things that I related to.

But their music sucked.

It was very careful music. Very unconfrontational music.

I read through a few more songs during the offering and although each song obviously had been written by someone with intelligence, they had no oomph. They were hard to sing and lacked passion.

I went a few more times to this church. I did meet a few nice people, some of whom became friends.

But ultimately I decided that if I was going to drive forty minutes on a Sunday morning to do something good for my soul, it would have to be something that made my spirit sing.

Like a great park, a beautiful museum, a live concert, a brunch with friends, an amazing movie, laying on the ground with a good book and looking around me and seeing god in the details.

Or I could just stay home and blast Aretha.

For me church is all about the music.

Fake News Friday

Medina, Ohio

Local Shrink Ray Inventor Solves Crime Spree

Local inventor Jake Sampson came forward on Wednesday of this week to help police solve a string of seemingly unrelated robberies.

Sampson, 44, invented a shrink ray gun several years ago. He says he uses it mainly around the house.

"Well, except for when I go to my Uncle Bud's junk yard and shrink up the piles of junk for him. But that's just sensible. That's just ecology. I go to the county dump once a month and do it for them too. Oh, and then there are all those tires that the Firestone folks need shrunk up, and of course the recycling.

We're big on the plastic recycling not getting to sit around and muck up the ground water here in Medina. We shrink it right up and put it in a file cabinet down at city hall. There's 52,000 plastic milk jugs filed in an 8 x 10 manila envelope under 'J' in the mayor's office," said Sampson.

"I invented the shrink ray back in 1997 right after my truck died," continued Sampson "I couldn't fit my dog or his giant bags of dog food into my VW, so I figured out a way to make them smaller for easier transport."

The gun could be easily overlooked since it looks so ordinary. For the body of the gun Sampson used a bar coder that he picked up in a retail auction.

Sampson said that about two weeks ago he was in his back yard using the ray gun to enlarge the riding lawn mower that he had purchased and then shrunk and carried home in his pocket.

His neighbor, Joe Thornton, 51, came around the corner of the garage and witnessed the restoration of the lawn mower.

Thornton asked to borrow the gun to bring home a tractor that he said he had just purchased and Sampson loaned it to him.

Over the next three days Thornton shoplifted a tractor, side by side refrigerator, a living room suite, a hot tub, a revolving bed, a floor freezer, an entire side of beef, and a pack of gum.

Sampson read about the mysterious string of robberies in the paper and put two and two together after he went to Thornton's house to reclaim the shrink ray gun and saw the new furniture in Thornton's living room. The living room had previously been decorated with a rusty lawn chair and a beer cooler.

"After the cops had him in handcuffs, I asked him what the hell he was thinking about using my ray gun like that to break the law and all, and he said that he had just intended to steal the tractor, but then the other stuff was just so fancy he couldn't help himself. And that he likes gum," said Sampson.

Reported by Karen Schindler of Miscellaneous Yammering June 5, 2009

How Happy Was I To Have A Camera Handy?

Anyone who knows me well knows that I delight in small things.

I look for things daily to delight IN. The smallest thing can make my day and leave me chuckling for hours.

So, can you imagine my reaction as I looked out of the car window while driving along the highway at 70 mph,
And

Not only seeing
JESUS rising out of the ground….but being able to find my camera, focus, and actually take a photo of the spectacle?

I thought that I'd died and gone to heaven……

Ten Questions Tuesday with Beth Fish

Today marks the start of a new regular feature called:

Ten Questions Tuesday.

Miscellaneous Yammering is proud to have as our guest interviewee the lovely, talented and somewhat outspoken Beth Fish of sothefishsaid. http://www.sothefishsaid.com/

Today will be a bit different because Beth is only going to answer five questions.

So it'll be Five Questions Tuesday today. Beth has small children, a husband who travels, small children, a job on top of taking care of the aforementioned small children, and she is currently cooking from scratch.

SHE'S BUSY, PEOPLE.... cut her some slack.

K: Hi Beth, thanks for stopping by.

B: Thanks for giving me a reason to skip working out today.

K: How long do you have the sitter for?

B: Sitter? What is that? I have maybe four minutes before one or the other of the kids starts screaming.

K: Then we'd better get started.

FIVE QUESTIONS FOR BETH FISH

K: Your name is Beth Fish, and you work for Marshall Karp. Does that just sometimes make you dissolve into fits of giggles?

B: I had never thought of that. Never. But yeah, now it is making me giggle. One of us is going to have to change our name. I think it should be him, don't you? I mean sure, he's a famous novelist/screenwriter/playwright, but I'm a mommyblogger. No contest.

K: You've been sleep deprived for years, do you sometimes find yourself leaning on things and sleeping standing up? And if so what's the weirdest thing you ever leaned on?

(try to keep it R rated)

B: I've fallen asleep sprawled on the playroom floor a couple of times, which has led to more than one compromising position with Little People. The toys, not actual Little People. I wouldn't do that in the playroom anyway. Think of the children.

K: You've been a mom for a while now. You occasionally go out with your really cute husband. Are you still at the stage where you have to show every new babysitter where the fuse box and fire extinguisher are?

B: We are so spoiled that until today the kids had never had a babysitter who wasn't a close blood relative. It still took me about two years before I could just go out and relax. Now I worry more about what the children are going to do to the babysitters and always expect to return home to find my parents snoring on the couch while the children freebase Teddy Grahams in the kitchen.

K:When was the last time you spent more than twelve minutes alone in the house(awake) with your husband? And what did you do? (btw: you can lie and exaggerate all you want here...whatever you say my comment is going to be you go girl)
B: Well, let's see... Mia is almost four, so.... Ok, one night she spent the night at my parents' house so I was alone in the house with my husband, but I was out-to-there pregnant so I think I went to bed early and he called a hooker or something.

you go girl...

And finally...

K: You're a vegetarian, which I found out recently when I offered you a sausage recipe...sorry about that....so, this whole being a vegetarian thing......is that why your butt looks so good?

B: My butt is a sad and frightening place these days, but not as sad as my poor, poor boobs, which were nothing exciting to start with and I didn't think they could really get much worse but two pregnancies and 28 months of breastfeeding proved me wrong. Oh, wait, you asked about my butt. Sorry, I have this need to talk about my boobs on the internet. It's like Breast Tourette's. I went on a "date" with my husband last weekend, and at one point told him that he was really lucky to be the one going home with me because my ass looked fabulous in that skirt. It isn't the vegetarian diet, though, it is the 28-pound-baby squats. I'm willing to loan the kids to anyone who wants to try my workout regimen.

That was fun Beth! Thanks for stopping by. Your hilarious and irreverent take on what it's like to juggle career and kids is why your readers love reading your blog....oh and all the talk about your butt....now everyone will have all the boob talk to look forward to too......oh no, I just realized that the same bunch who comment on your blog will be commenting here today.......um, Jane, I have a feeling that today we won't be "keepin it clean for the tweens".......

Ten Minute Kaleidoscope

I spy a long rectangular patch of bright sun caressing my living room floor.

Off I dash to get my purple quilt, my silky mat on which I do daily yoga.

I capture the visiting beam and lie down, face up, fully intending to go into corpse pose and sink into silent, soul refreshing , heart centering, glorious, deep breathing, total relaxation.

The warm sun full in my face, a myriad of blurry colors and patterns reminiscent of a kaleidoscope reflect through my lashes.

I repeatedly open and shut my eyes, examining all the stages in between.

The rainbows alter; I find the best colors are at eyelids half mast.

Relaxing into corpse pose I entertain myself a fleeting moment with my kaleidoscopic lashes.

Too soon, the sun shifts, the colors fade, the experience is over, I resume my day.

Smiling, I hug the memory to myself as a freely given delight; a tiny present from the universe.

I bask daylong in the recall of this ethereal phenomenon, this surprisingly colorful tiny pleasure.

A pleasure born only from a willingness to pause my day, a seamless meshing of my eyelashes, the right window, the right moment, and the perfect strength of springtime sun.