During my high school years in the mid 70s, aside from tennis, my passion was music. It seemed like I upgraded my stereo system every 6 months, and when I bought my first pair of Koss headphones, it was as if I was transported to a different dimension. Led Zepplin's "Houses of the Holy", The Who's "Quadrophenia" and
Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" would constantly fill my ears and led an exhaustive list of vinyl masterpieces that are now part of the "classic rock" genre.
I will never forget my first concert. I was a junior at Blair High in Pasadena, and Kevin Cherniss asked if I wanted to see Roxy Music at the Hollywood Palladium. Looking back, I am still a bit amazed that my parents said "yes". As we walked through the lobby doors and into the concert hall, the stench of marijuana smoke was overwhelming. Pretty sure everyone in that auditorium--including the band--was high, except for me. All my friends smoked weed--I abstained due to my other addiction--tennis.
As I made the transition from high school to college, my passion for music only grew stronger. In the early 80s, I added The Who, Springsteen and Genesis to my concert experiences, to name a few. And then in the dorm room of one of my teammates at the University of Redlands, I reluctantly began studying the book of John. Glenn Cunliffe had invited me to join him and his roommate, Joaquin Gonzales--also on the tennis team--to a weekly bible study. Most people have a date--a time--an event--where they answered the call, cried out to God, and became a Christian. Not so with me. All I know is, at the beginning of the study, I was not a believer. By the end, I was fully convinced that yes, Jesus was God, He came to redeem sinners, and the hole in my life I had been aware of for quite some time could only be filled by Him. (I would actually "go forward" to countless altar calls in the years that would follow--Easter sunrise services with Greg Laurie, Keith Green concerts, Harvest Sunday evening services--if someone were counting, I probably got saved about 17 times!)
Initially, my newfound faith affected my tennis. While in high school I was a whiny, racquet throwing brat on the court. As my faith matured, my demeanor on the court followed suit. I would begin (silently) praying during changeovers. I even remember going through a period where I questioned if competition was biblical. If God is love, is it okay to want to defeat an opponent (in any sport)? I was in college, and if I wasn't tackling the Big life issues in literature class, I was opening just about any Pandora's box placed in my path. Life became one question after another, and I wasn't about to "settle" for easy answers.
Music was the last frontier for my faith to conquer, and to cover that process in this blog would be overkill. Part two to follow . . .
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Race Relations
A few weekends ago I was invited down to Westminster (next to Huntington Beach) for some tennis with a player I formerly coached in high school. Afterwards he treated me to Thai food at one of his local favorites. You could sort of tell how authentic the food was by not only the cooks in the kitchen, but also the people (wall to wall on this day) savoring the delectable cuisine. Can't wait for seconds . . .
Before heading back to the IE's triple digit temps, made a detour to Newport, strolled down the pier and along the beach and was struck by the complete mix of races along the sand--happy families young and old, brown, black, yellow and white seemingly without a care in the world. A refreshing reminder of how this country can really show its true "colors" . . .not sure which was more satisfying--the wet sand beneath my feet, or this vision of racial reality which the media so often doesn't report on the evening news.
Fast forward to later that evening as I headed into the sanctuary for Sunday evening church. They say that Sunday church is the most segregated hour of the week in America, and while this might not be true in all cities at all churches, this seems to be true where I worship. I was reminded of the time one of my freshmen in English class, Chuck, had shared that his father was a pastor at a church in San Bernardino. I decided to visit one Sunday morning well over a decade ago. As I walked through the parking lot and into the sanctuary, I was greeted by smiling, joyful women in their Sunday best hats, surely wondering who this visitor was, and why had he chosen to join them on this particular day. As I took my seat in middle of the pews, I couldn't help but notice that I was the only white person in the entire church. At that moment, I realized what it must feel like for a person of color to be in a setting where they realize that they are "alone". Of course, in the comfort of a church, it was a feeling which brought not tension or apprehension at all--just an acute awareness of my "differentness". At one point the pastor, Chuck's dad, asked if there were any visitors that morning, and if so, would they please stand and introduce themselves. Sure enough, I was the only one. When I explained that I was Chuck Jr.'s English teacher, I remember soft chuckles rippling through the building--almost a collective sigh of relief to understand that no, this was not some high-ranking official of the Aryan Nation infiltrating our worship. I thoroughly enjoyed the three (!) hours we spent singing, laughing and praising God together.
In a few weeks I will return to my office as the 8th grade counselor for Golden Valley Middle School in San Bernardino. There is a very good reason why educators are given 3 months of vacation, and it is because I am about to enter into 9 months where the collision of white, latino, asian and black families, teachers and students will not always be peaceful. Yes, even with a mixed president in the White House, I am bracing for plenty of "action" during the upcoming school year.
Last year during a student gathering at my school called "Unity Forum", we showed the "I Have a Dream" speech by Martin Luther King. Afterwards, a student asked if I felt we had finally realized that dream of racial equality in America. My answer was simple: "As long as we live in this country, and as long as this country welcomes people of all cultures into its arms, we as a people will always struggle with the issues that racial diversity bring. Racial harmony is not a destination; it is a journey." Ok, I am paraphrasing my own words here, but that was basically how I answered this student's question. And it is nothing more than my own opinion; surely many might disagree.
In the aftermath of Michael Jackson's passing, I have, more than ever, come to appreciate his song "Man in the Mirror". The sentiment of that song, I believe, is crucial to landing a seat along this journey of race. Not sure about you, but I'll start with a long hard look in the mirror . . . .
Before heading back to the IE's triple digit temps, made a detour to Newport, strolled down the pier and along the beach and was struck by the complete mix of races along the sand--happy families young and old, brown, black, yellow and white seemingly without a care in the world. A refreshing reminder of how this country can really show its true "colors" . . .not sure which was more satisfying--the wet sand beneath my feet, or this vision of racial reality which the media so often doesn't report on the evening news.
Fast forward to later that evening as I headed into the sanctuary for Sunday evening church. They say that Sunday church is the most segregated hour of the week in America, and while this might not be true in all cities at all churches, this seems to be true where I worship. I was reminded of the time one of my freshmen in English class, Chuck, had shared that his father was a pastor at a church in San Bernardino. I decided to visit one Sunday morning well over a decade ago. As I walked through the parking lot and into the sanctuary, I was greeted by smiling, joyful women in their Sunday best hats, surely wondering who this visitor was, and why had he chosen to join them on this particular day. As I took my seat in middle of the pews, I couldn't help but notice that I was the only white person in the entire church. At that moment, I realized what it must feel like for a person of color to be in a setting where they realize that they are "alone". Of course, in the comfort of a church, it was a feeling which brought not tension or apprehension at all--just an acute awareness of my "differentness". At one point the pastor, Chuck's dad, asked if there were any visitors that morning, and if so, would they please stand and introduce themselves. Sure enough, I was the only one. When I explained that I was Chuck Jr.'s English teacher, I remember soft chuckles rippling through the building--almost a collective sigh of relief to understand that no, this was not some high-ranking official of the Aryan Nation infiltrating our worship. I thoroughly enjoyed the three (!) hours we spent singing, laughing and praising God together.
In a few weeks I will return to my office as the 8th grade counselor for Golden Valley Middle School in San Bernardino. There is a very good reason why educators are given 3 months of vacation, and it is because I am about to enter into 9 months where the collision of white, latino, asian and black families, teachers and students will not always be peaceful. Yes, even with a mixed president in the White House, I am bracing for plenty of "action" during the upcoming school year.
Last year during a student gathering at my school called "Unity Forum", we showed the "I Have a Dream" speech by Martin Luther King. Afterwards, a student asked if I felt we had finally realized that dream of racial equality in America. My answer was simple: "As long as we live in this country, and as long as this country welcomes people of all cultures into its arms, we as a people will always struggle with the issues that racial diversity bring. Racial harmony is not a destination; it is a journey." Ok, I am paraphrasing my own words here, but that was basically how I answered this student's question. And it is nothing more than my own opinion; surely many might disagree.
In the aftermath of Michael Jackson's passing, I have, more than ever, come to appreciate his song "Man in the Mirror". The sentiment of that song, I believe, is crucial to landing a seat along this journey of race. Not sure about you, but I'll start with a long hard look in the mirror . . . .
Monday, July 20, 2009
The Magnet of Sin
Ever wonder why a one-hour newscast typically devotes about two-thirds coverage to murders, rapes, natural disasters and tragedies (the remaining third tends to be a mix of sports, weather and a little 3-minute "feel good" story at the end about some 9-year-old who raised money from a lemonade stand to help fight world hunger)? TV is all about ratings, and ratings are all about money, and negative things sell. Without realizing it often times, we are drawn to the negative.
"Breaking newsflash--this just in--high speed car chase through downtown Glendale--we will stay with this until its conclusion . . ." I have to believe I'm not the only one who has been drawn in--sucked in to this type of coverage. Not sure what my record is for duration of time glued to a chase, but instead of changing the channel to something else, before we know it--30, 45 minutes--or more--have been wasted hoping to get a glimpse how this thing will end. Will he/she be the first one to actually elude capture? Will there be a fiery crash or fatal shoot-out? And, c'mon now, work with me--what a total LET DOWN if the thing ends--as it usually does--with the fugitive peacefully surrendering to the authorities. How boring.
If we believe media coverage, most of what happens in the world is bad, negative, sinful. What if that same one-hour newscast was chock-full (wall to wall) of positive people doing positive things? What would the ratings look like then? Not good! I have no doubt that in the every day world of America (and other countries), there are countless, untold stories of bravery, heroism, people helping people, teachers making a difference, military personnel freeing the oppressed, pastors in small (or large) churches who are not abusing altar boys or who are not making huge salaries, doctors and nurses who are saving lives . . . I could go on and on, couldn't I?
It is difficult, sometimes, to escape what the media is trying to do here. In education, in teacher school, we are taught to "catch them being good". This is true with parenting, as well. We need to be taught, reminded of, reinforced about this because it is SO MUCH EASIER to "catch them being bad". There are two ways to modify the behavior of a child, or of a classroom--beat them over the head when they do wrong things until they conform to our standards, or kill them with love--whenever someone does something right (and this is 90% of the kids 90% of the time), make sure you give them praise. This is also true in coaching. Statistics will show that in any of these arenas, for every one negative comment made about someone's behavior, it takes 4 positive ones to make up for it. "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me". WHAT A COMPLETE AND TOTAL LIE!!! Physical wounds will eventually heal (the cuts and scrapes, at least), but a wrong word said at the wrong time in the wrong way--that can leave a scar for life.
I am constantly attempting to counterbalance what society, the media, etc. throws at me. Not sure where I heard/read this, but whenever I do it, the rest of the day seems to fall into place as it should: I begin the day by thanking God for ten things in my life. Could be people, situations, things--but I start by not asking God to fix ten things that are wrong; rather, expressing thanks for how He has blessed me. A very simple thing, but often with a profound change in my attitude about life.
"Breaking newsflash--this just in--high speed car chase through downtown Glendale--we will stay with this until its conclusion . . ." I have to believe I'm not the only one who has been drawn in--sucked in to this type of coverage. Not sure what my record is for duration of time glued to a chase, but instead of changing the channel to something else, before we know it--30, 45 minutes--or more--have been wasted hoping to get a glimpse how this thing will end. Will he/she be the first one to actually elude capture? Will there be a fiery crash or fatal shoot-out? And, c'mon now, work with me--what a total LET DOWN if the thing ends--as it usually does--with the fugitive peacefully surrendering to the authorities. How boring.
If we believe media coverage, most of what happens in the world is bad, negative, sinful. What if that same one-hour newscast was chock-full (wall to wall) of positive people doing positive things? What would the ratings look like then? Not good! I have no doubt that in the every day world of America (and other countries), there are countless, untold stories of bravery, heroism, people helping people, teachers making a difference, military personnel freeing the oppressed, pastors in small (or large) churches who are not abusing altar boys or who are not making huge salaries, doctors and nurses who are saving lives . . . I could go on and on, couldn't I?
It is difficult, sometimes, to escape what the media is trying to do here. In education, in teacher school, we are taught to "catch them being good". This is true with parenting, as well. We need to be taught, reminded of, reinforced about this because it is SO MUCH EASIER to "catch them being bad". There are two ways to modify the behavior of a child, or of a classroom--beat them over the head when they do wrong things until they conform to our standards, or kill them with love--whenever someone does something right (and this is 90% of the kids 90% of the time), make sure you give them praise. This is also true in coaching. Statistics will show that in any of these arenas, for every one negative comment made about someone's behavior, it takes 4 positive ones to make up for it. "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me". WHAT A COMPLETE AND TOTAL LIE!!! Physical wounds will eventually heal (the cuts and scrapes, at least), but a wrong word said at the wrong time in the wrong way--that can leave a scar for life.
I am constantly attempting to counterbalance what society, the media, etc. throws at me. Not sure where I heard/read this, but whenever I do it, the rest of the day seems to fall into place as it should: I begin the day by thanking God for ten things in my life. Could be people, situations, things--but I start by not asking God to fix ten things that are wrong; rather, expressing thanks for how He has blessed me. A very simple thing, but often with a profound change in my attitude about life.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Back to Basics
While at Starbucks for my usual venti drip and Sunday Times this morning, I was struck by a quote on the front page referring to President Obama's trip to Africa: "I didn't see anything fresh or new . . .It was the same things about good-governance and responsibility that we've been hearing since the 1980s". Words from Kenyan columnist Barrack Muluka. Upon reading this, I immediately thought of the preacher who ended up giving the exact same sermon for like 23 weeks in a row, each time realizing that his congregation had still not internalized the message. Perhaps Mr. Muluka does not understand that until ANY nation or continent can figure out the basic issues--like responsibility and good-governance--there will continue to be much turmoil.
We've heard messages so many times, we figure "yeah, that's outdated--heard it a thousand times--let's move on to something fresh and new and innovative". I'm guilty of that line of thinking--my guess is we all are at times. We reach for the "self help" books on the shelf at Barnes and Noble, hoping that the new young author has figured things out this time.
When all along, life really comes down to some very simple, age-old truths--that will never change!
If a family--or a city, state or country--spends more than it earns--it will begin compounding debt . . .
If we eat more calories than we burn, we will continue to gain weight . . .
If I want to be respected by those around me, perhaps I should start by respecting them . . .
And you have to love Jesus. Well, you don't have to--but seeing as how He gave His life for us . . .but really, you have to love how He would just cut right to the heart of things--the basics. Today, we have so much "static" and stuff--new technology throwing itself at us constantly--it is becoming much more difficult to see through all the mess and realize "ok, what is it that I really need to know and do?" In His day, it was the Pharisees and the Sadducees--the religious rulers--who would always be trying to "trip him up" with their rhetoric and questioning.
"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
Wow. And people complain about the Bible being confusing, hard to understand. Love God, and love people. Period. Talk about basic--how much more simple can it get? Please understand here, though, that I fully realize the difference between the words simple and easy. Just because Jesus' words might be simple to understand, those two commandments are anything but easy to carry out. And yet, this illustrates all the more our need to spend some time on first base before trying to run to second.
Life doesn't have to be complicated. We allow it to be. Can't say that I know any Amish people--but I'm thinking they might be on to something . . .
We've heard messages so many times, we figure "yeah, that's outdated--heard it a thousand times--let's move on to something fresh and new and innovative". I'm guilty of that line of thinking--my guess is we all are at times. We reach for the "self help" books on the shelf at Barnes and Noble, hoping that the new young author has figured things out this time.
When all along, life really comes down to some very simple, age-old truths--that will never change!
If a family--or a city, state or country--spends more than it earns--it will begin compounding debt . . .
If we eat more calories than we burn, we will continue to gain weight . . .
If I want to be respected by those around me, perhaps I should start by respecting them . . .
And you have to love Jesus. Well, you don't have to--but seeing as how He gave His life for us . . .but really, you have to love how He would just cut right to the heart of things--the basics. Today, we have so much "static" and stuff--new technology throwing itself at us constantly--it is becoming much more difficult to see through all the mess and realize "ok, what is it that I really need to know and do?" In His day, it was the Pharisees and the Sadducees--the religious rulers--who would always be trying to "trip him up" with their rhetoric and questioning.
"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."
Wow. And people complain about the Bible being confusing, hard to understand. Love God, and love people. Period. Talk about basic--how much more simple can it get? Please understand here, though, that I fully realize the difference between the words simple and easy. Just because Jesus' words might be simple to understand, those two commandments are anything but easy to carry out. And yet, this illustrates all the more our need to spend some time on first base before trying to run to second.
Life doesn't have to be complicated. We allow it to be. Can't say that I know any Amish people--but I'm thinking they might be on to something . . .
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Reality Rock Rekindling
Back in the days of Reality Rock Ministries, I wore many hats. DJ, concert promoter, columnist, etc., etc. The one I enjoyed the most, though, was my "fan" hat. The best way I can illustrate this is in the midst of arranging a concert, running around like a chicken with its head cut off for hours before the first note is played, introducing opening acts, asking Jason Dean why the police cars pulled up outside, making sure there's enough water for the bands, etc., in the back of my mind was to get to that special moment where all "work" was behind me and I could become lost in the sea of other fans in the crowd. I would just slip into a row and allow the concerns of clean up, follow up, etc. to temporarily slip away and simply enjoy whatever music was being offered up. Whether for one, two, three songs or more, this was my most rewarding part of the evening. Deeply personal and wholly satisfying.
After Reality Rock faded into that thing we call time, the "fan" hat also began to fade away--for a variety of reasons, which I will return to shortly. Most importantly, though, is recently, I found that "hat" again. How this has happened I am not sure--perhaps a collection of things. During these past 12 months or so, I turned 50 ("time" has a way of messing with one's mind!); Jason Dean returned from two years in Australia and we began (half jokingly--but half seriously) talking about what it would be like if we had another radio program; I joined Facebook and reconnected with a slew of former Reality Rockers; I had to go through some things in storage and was "forced" to deal with literally hundreds of cassettes containing old (really old) Reality Rock programs, some dating as far back as 1982--yes, nearly three decades!
So my laptop iTunes now has been updated, iPod synched and as I listened to The Choir's "Chase the Kangaroo" and The Prayer Chain's "Whirlpool" while driving up to Big Bear Friday afternoon, I wondered (to myself) if there is any such thing as a musical orgasm. I'm sorry, but yes, it was that good! After so many years, I had perhaps a more seasoned perspective on this music that had had such a profound effect on my life. And it feels really, really good to "rekindle" that spirit. The "fan" hat has not only been found, but is now planted firmly on my head.
Now, back to where it went in the first place. After 15 years of Reality Rock, I knew the time had come for me to move on, and the next chapter was to enter the world of education. I became a high school English teacher (as well as tennis coach at the public school at which I taught--Cajon High in San Bernardino). It didn't take long to realize that if I were to be successful (translation: survive) in this new endeavor, it would take 110% of my energy. I dropped my connection with the youth group at my church, dropped anything Reality Rock related, etc. Also, in the process, I slowly began cheating myself of spiritual growth. Stopped going to church. Looking back, it was a slow fade not into disbelief, but indifference. I justified this by thinking, "Well, Reality Rock took 110% from me; now, it's time to give that much to my new career". Poor move on my part. Yes, I have been successful in this new teaching/coaching venture (teaching morphed into guidance counselor about 8 years ago), but at the expense of my spiritual well-being.
About 5 years ago, I realized what had been happening, and began to "right the ship". Fast forward to where things are now, and I feel like I have pretty much come full circle. And am excited to see where this "rekindling" may lead. Stay tuned . . .
After Reality Rock faded into that thing we call time, the "fan" hat also began to fade away--for a variety of reasons, which I will return to shortly. Most importantly, though, is recently, I found that "hat" again. How this has happened I am not sure--perhaps a collection of things. During these past 12 months or so, I turned 50 ("time" has a way of messing with one's mind!); Jason Dean returned from two years in Australia and we began (half jokingly--but half seriously) talking about what it would be like if we had another radio program; I joined Facebook and reconnected with a slew of former Reality Rockers; I had to go through some things in storage and was "forced" to deal with literally hundreds of cassettes containing old (really old) Reality Rock programs, some dating as far back as 1982--yes, nearly three decades!
So my laptop iTunes now has been updated, iPod synched and as I listened to The Choir's "Chase the Kangaroo" and The Prayer Chain's "Whirlpool" while driving up to Big Bear Friday afternoon, I wondered (to myself) if there is any such thing as a musical orgasm. I'm sorry, but yes, it was that good! After so many years, I had perhaps a more seasoned perspective on this music that had had such a profound effect on my life. And it feels really, really good to "rekindle" that spirit. The "fan" hat has not only been found, but is now planted firmly on my head.
Now, back to where it went in the first place. After 15 years of Reality Rock, I knew the time had come for me to move on, and the next chapter was to enter the world of education. I became a high school English teacher (as well as tennis coach at the public school at which I taught--Cajon High in San Bernardino). It didn't take long to realize that if I were to be successful (translation: survive) in this new endeavor, it would take 110% of my energy. I dropped my connection with the youth group at my church, dropped anything Reality Rock related, etc. Also, in the process, I slowly began cheating myself of spiritual growth. Stopped going to church. Looking back, it was a slow fade not into disbelief, but indifference. I justified this by thinking, "Well, Reality Rock took 110% from me; now, it's time to give that much to my new career". Poor move on my part. Yes, I have been successful in this new teaching/coaching venture (teaching morphed into guidance counselor about 8 years ago), but at the expense of my spiritual well-being.
About 5 years ago, I realized what had been happening, and began to "right the ship". Fast forward to where things are now, and I feel like I have pretty much come full circle. And am excited to see where this "rekindling" may lead. Stay tuned . . .
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Somewhere In the Middle
"Somewhere between the new and the old - Somewhere between who I am and who I used to be - Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me - Somewhere between the wrong and the right - Somewhere between the darkness and the light - Somewhere between who I was and who You're making me - Somewhere in the middle You'll find me"
Lyrics from Casting Crowns, written by Mark Hall from The Altar and the Door
On many different levels, this song totally resonates with me.
It is so easy to live on one side or the other. The extreme is safe. Red States vs. Blue states. Protestant vs. Catholic. Yankees vs. Mets.
I was at Chilis about 7 years ago during playoff time watching a Laker game in the bar, and I was wearing a Clippers jersey. I like the Clippers--I'm a fan. I also like the Lakers. I'm an NBA fan, period. I like basketball. So there's this one guy sitting at the table next to ours, and he says something like, "Dude, which is it--are you a Lakers fan or a Clippers fan?" The stupidity of this statement still amazes me to this day. But for so many people, in so many areas, this "one or the other, either or" mentality is all they seem to understand.
During the early days of Reality Rock, back in the '80s, preachers would get on their soapbox about the evils of rock music. "You are either for the devil or for Jesus--music is either Christian or satanic--there is no in-between. If you listen to the music of the world, you are a compromised Christian. Burn any tapes/records that are of Satan and the world--only keep those whose songs glorify Christ"
Now, some reading this may wonder what beef I could have with that? Simple: it's not that simple. When I would be invited to speak to youth groups about music, I was very clear about why the above stance is wrong--it's way too simple. Way too easy. Way too wrong! When I asked the kids to raise their hands if they liked to sing "Happy Birthday" at parties, all hands went up. "Ok, is that a Christian song?" I would ask next. "Um, no, not really." How about no, not at all--not even close. It is JUST A SONG. It's a song people sing when it's someone's birthday. It is not satanic. It is not Christian. And, if one would actually take the time and effort to engage their brain long enough to realize that if there is a song playing on the radio about horses, it does not, CAN NOT fall into the "either or" category of Christian or satanic. It is simply a song about horses.
It would be so nice if life were black and white all the time. We really wouldn't have to "wrestle" with those gray areas that don't easily fit into our little boxes.
On my Facebook page, where it asks for my political affiliation, I put the word "hybrid". No, that doesn't mean I'm driving a Prius. It means that I am a registered republican who is pro-life, but against the death penalty. What a terrible republican I am! Arnold is a hybrid. Many republicans feel he is a democratic wolf in sheep's clothing. Bush was a republican, but many republicans called out his immigration policies as being WAY too liberal.
Labels are convenient. Labels are easy. But labels don't always tell the full story.
I am so sick and tired of our two-party system. Yes, there are other parties out there, but let's face it. We have backed ourselves into a corner as a country when it comes to political races. If you're not one or the other, you don't have a chance.
People who attempt to label me usually come up a bit frustrated. I am thankful for that. I am who I am. Somewhere in the middle, you'll find me . . . .
Lyrics from Casting Crowns, written by Mark Hall from The Altar and the Door
On many different levels, this song totally resonates with me.
It is so easy to live on one side or the other. The extreme is safe. Red States vs. Blue states. Protestant vs. Catholic. Yankees vs. Mets.
I was at Chilis about 7 years ago during playoff time watching a Laker game in the bar, and I was wearing a Clippers jersey. I like the Clippers--I'm a fan. I also like the Lakers. I'm an NBA fan, period. I like basketball. So there's this one guy sitting at the table next to ours, and he says something like, "Dude, which is it--are you a Lakers fan or a Clippers fan?" The stupidity of this statement still amazes me to this day. But for so many people, in so many areas, this "one or the other, either or" mentality is all they seem to understand.
During the early days of Reality Rock, back in the '80s, preachers would get on their soapbox about the evils of rock music. "You are either for the devil or for Jesus--music is either Christian or satanic--there is no in-between. If you listen to the music of the world, you are a compromised Christian. Burn any tapes/records that are of Satan and the world--only keep those whose songs glorify Christ"
Now, some reading this may wonder what beef I could have with that? Simple: it's not that simple. When I would be invited to speak to youth groups about music, I was very clear about why the above stance is wrong--it's way too simple. Way too easy. Way too wrong! When I asked the kids to raise their hands if they liked to sing "Happy Birthday" at parties, all hands went up. "Ok, is that a Christian song?" I would ask next. "Um, no, not really." How about no, not at all--not even close. It is JUST A SONG. It's a song people sing when it's someone's birthday. It is not satanic. It is not Christian. And, if one would actually take the time and effort to engage their brain long enough to realize that if there is a song playing on the radio about horses, it does not, CAN NOT fall into the "either or" category of Christian or satanic. It is simply a song about horses.
It would be so nice if life were black and white all the time. We really wouldn't have to "wrestle" with those gray areas that don't easily fit into our little boxes.
On my Facebook page, where it asks for my political affiliation, I put the word "hybrid". No, that doesn't mean I'm driving a Prius. It means that I am a registered republican who is pro-life, but against the death penalty. What a terrible republican I am! Arnold is a hybrid. Many republicans feel he is a democratic wolf in sheep's clothing. Bush was a republican, but many republicans called out his immigration policies as being WAY too liberal.
Labels are convenient. Labels are easy. But labels don't always tell the full story.
I am so sick and tired of our two-party system. Yes, there are other parties out there, but let's face it. We have backed ourselves into a corner as a country when it comes to political races. If you're not one or the other, you don't have a chance.
People who attempt to label me usually come up a bit frustrated. I am thankful for that. I am who I am. Somewhere in the middle, you'll find me . . . .
Saturday, May 2, 2009
cassette tapes
Within the last year I treated myself to an IPOD for the first time, ditching (once and for all) my Sony Walkman. However, on this warm, cloudy Saturday afternoon, I find myself listening to cassette tapes--yeah, those things that replaced 8-track cartridges back in the '60s.
The occasion--celebrating the survival of old Reality Rock program tapes!
A couple weeks ago, I reconnected with a friend of mine from Atlanta who is a college Chemistry professor. He asked if I kept any program air-checks from KLRD or KUOR. When I told him they had been in a storage unit in Yucaipa since last spring, he grimaced. "Was it air-conditioned?" Well, no. He told me there was no way they had survived the summer heat.
So today, while moving some other stuff, I was determined to take a sampling from the unit back home, pop them into the cassette player and see what I found. Lo and behold, chemistry professors aren't always right, I am happy to say!
Since joining Facebook, I have reconnected with many of the Reality Rock listening/program staff family over the past few months; this listening experience sort of completes the walk down memory lane. Mike Stand, The Call, King's X and Violet Burning are taking me back to some of the best 15 years of my life. Almost makes me want to hop back on the airwaves again--almost . . . .
The occasion--celebrating the survival of old Reality Rock program tapes!
A couple weeks ago, I reconnected with a friend of mine from Atlanta who is a college Chemistry professor. He asked if I kept any program air-checks from KLRD or KUOR. When I told him they had been in a storage unit in Yucaipa since last spring, he grimaced. "Was it air-conditioned?" Well, no. He told me there was no way they had survived the summer heat.
So today, while moving some other stuff, I was determined to take a sampling from the unit back home, pop them into the cassette player and see what I found. Lo and behold, chemistry professors aren't always right, I am happy to say!
Since joining Facebook, I have reconnected with many of the Reality Rock listening/program staff family over the past few months; this listening experience sort of completes the walk down memory lane. Mike Stand, The Call, King's X and Violet Burning are taking me back to some of the best 15 years of my life. Almost makes me want to hop back on the airwaves again--almost . . . .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)