over the rhine @ the triple door

15 11 2009

What an amazing performance! It was such a mesmerizing show. I was thinking about how different this show was from the one I saw at a dingy college bar in Lexington, KY over 10 years ago. At that show, Karin (the lead vocalist) berated some of the audience members for their rude manners–as they were talking loudly through the entire performance. This show was nothing like that one. Good art / music has the power to lift the soul.

Here’s the setlist (courtesy of someone else at the show who was paying better attention than I):

Don’t Wanna Waste Your Time
Born
Drunkard’s Prayer
Trouble*
Nothing is Innocent
I’m On a Roll
Trumpet Child
Who’m I Kiddin’ but Me
Desperate For Love
Ohio
Professional Daydreamer
Etc. Whatever
Don’t Wait for Tom
Backstreets of Heaven
———Encore———-
All I Need is Everything
I Want You to Be My Love
Redemption Song

Our pictures were a bit blurry, but here are a few…





date night tomorrow

13 11 2009

Tomorrow: In the morning, Sarah’s last soccer game, in the afternoon, brewing a batch of beer with some guys from church…and then, in the evening…

Going with my wife to see one of my all-time favorite musical groups, Over the Rhine at The Triple Door in Seattle. This week has really made up for last week. It’s a charmed life!





the In crowd

11 11 2009

Got a call this morning from Goddard College, the “vanguard” school to offer low-residency programs in Master’s of Fine Arts (MFA) in Creative Writing.

Short story: I’m “in”.

I’ve been accepted to participate in graduate level work in creative nonfiction. The program starts in January but I’m hoping I can defer that and start in June. I would attend two “residencies” 10-day workshop sessions in Port Townsend, WA each year, and do all the writing / reading / critique work with my advisor(s) through correspondence. After two years (5 residencies) I’d have my MFA and and a “publishable” manuscript. I think there is also a “teaching” element or practicum.

This news was a huge boost for me after getting two denial letters in the last month and having the country blues I posted about below. It’s so validating and encouraging to get this kind of feedback. I was starting to seriously doubt the quality of the manuscript I submitted. Now I feel a little better about it. The journey is just beginning, but this is the kind of start I was hoping for.

Some notable Goddard college alumni: Piers Anthony (fantasy wizard / author), Mark Doty (award-winning poet), and William H Macy (actor). There are many other artists listed here on Wikipedia.

Here’s a picture of Goddard’s main campus in Vermont. Thanks to everyone who prayed, wrote reference letters, encouraged me, and have commented on my writing for years now on this (and other) blog posts. I will keep you posted re: what happens next. (I’m still waiting to hear back from one last remaining school that I applied to.)





halloween

10 11 2009

These pictures come in a little bit late, but that’s because our Halloween coincided with the swine flu epidemic in our household.





country song

5 11 2009

My wife and kids got the Swine flu, my car battery died, the Yankees won the World Series, and I got my second rejection letter from an MFA program I applied to.

November has been real special so far. Glad when this freakin week is over.

(I know it’s not really that bad in the eternal scope of things, but it would make for a good country song.)





the Walk

4 11 2009

Out the front door of our apartment, I flip off the light, close up, and use my key to swing the deadbolt. Before leaving the building I run inventory:

Computer bag? Check.

Lunchbox? Check.

To-go coffee mug? Check.

From there it’s down the long corridor, out the back door, dress shoes on concrete, wet grass, sidewalk and then the long stretch of asphalt. Looking at least one way before crossing the road, I make my way out into “it”, allowing the crisp air to mix with the caffeine on my tongue in an effort to wake myself up. Like a teabag, I begin the slow steep into the new day.

The morning commute, from apartment door to my cubicle desk, usually takes between 12-15 minutes. I don’t hurry; I don’t worry about the time. When I get to work I will start working and eight hours later (give or take) I will stop working, shut down my computer, pack my things up again and take a similar route back home.

Almost every time I make this Walk, I am thankful for each step of it. It’s predictably the same, but almost always different. Some days it is misty, drizzly cold; on other days the sun lies just on the verge of making an appearance. Lately the crunch of leaves adds to the backdrop of cars start-and-stopping at busy four-ways. On other days I am tethered to iPod.

There are few other wayfarers on this urban fjord, a mixed topography of residential, commercial, and industrial. Every morning, without fail, pigeons and ravens eye one another from parallel electric lines. The guys who work in glass are loading windows into flatbeds before I arrive, but the warehouse crew from the hardware store sit in their pickups smoking down nicotine while listening to sex jokes on sports radio. The mechanics seem as relaxed about time as health insurance hacks like me, but their black jumpsuits seem more manly, or maybe it’s the congealed grease on their hands, the carved wrinkles and cracked nails.

We are neutrons and electrons spinning around inside a atom, our trajectory may cross and collide, our occupational pursuits cause us to bump into one another but we just keep moving, heads nodding; no real mingling and no splitting.

The things I think about on this Walk are profound, endless, and mundane.

If I could find one, I’d hire a painter who could read my thoughts along the way and splash them across canvas in broad strokes. Like artistic dictation, I would feed him inspiration, on my walks; my imagination loping off in various directions where his colors could pursue. In hues, his paintings could pinpoint the edges of stories that must be pulled out, stretched into the middle of the frame, exhumed from within, and captured–right there in the waning light of day.

And having painted them, I would see where these walks lead and where they could go. Not back and forth forever, in an endless loop, a Celtic knot. But inward and outward in spiralling ripples of creativity and calm.

This Walk is a story, too. One that unfolds each day. I am the only reader, writer or editor of it. And to be honest, that singular, self-directed pleasure, well, on most days, it makes me quite satisfied. Even when my feet hurt.





road to recovery

2 11 2009

After a rough weekend, the Johnson household is on the road to recovery. Still some sniffles, coughs, and soreness (Christa) but thankfully the flu has passed on to its next stop. I’m just excited that it is November and I can start listening to some Christmas music. I figure why wait around for Thanksgiving this year. Tis the season…

I’m off to work…





strangest “day off” in my short history

30 10 2009

Update 10/31

Here’s a list of a few things I did today. I took the day off, for reasons which will become clear, but I still believe it was one of the strangest days I’ve had to date.

Things I Did Yesterday / Today:

  • Called the doctor to ask questions about the swine flu. (Anna and Christa have it we discovered this morning–Anna is sleeping a lot and has started on Tamiflu. Christa is riding out the storm without drugs since they weren’t prescribing to low-risk adults.)
  • Jump-started my car (thanks to my friend Josh) which was parked a block away at Walgreens.
  • Dumped out many buckets of vomit. (Sorry for the detail, but it seems like such a weird task.)
  • Played dominoes with Sarah (who strangely is not displaying flu-like symptoms.)
  • Ate a Krispy Kreme donut with orange and black sprinkles.
  • Replaced the battery on my car using instructions from a manual I got at the public library. So far, no electrocutions.
  • Ironed my St. Francis of Assisi Halloween costume. That activity is just “out there”–on multiple levels–if you think about it.
  • Cleaned acrylic paint off of paintbrushes, tablecloth, and second born daughter.
  • Retrieved the phones from multiple rooms of the house as they seemed to keep moving like migratory birds from dawn till dusk.
  • Took Tamiflu myself. (Don’t ask. Evidently with my asthma / breathing issues, I’m at a higher risk even though I haven’t displayed any symptoms thusfar.)
  • Made meatloaf (a food I happen to hate) for myself and Sarah because a.) it was available (we’re members of a cooking co-op right now where different people prep meals and deliver them four nights a week) and b.) we needed a semi-healthy dinner after eating donuts and yogurt for breakfast and lunch.
  • Wondered at what point of repetition Curious George episodes could break someone’s sanity…
  • Taking Sarah to the ER at 1:30 a.m. since she had a raging fever and was having trouble breathing. The doctor thinks she has asthma like her sister which complicates the swine flu symptoms. Her big concern with all of this was missing out on “truck or treating”. She keeps reassuring us that the feels much better.
  • Seeing Christa black out and tumble down in the hallway. Thought I was going to be taking my whole family to the ER. She’s OK, just bruised and sore this morning.

Halloween has been real scary so far…but I think we’re all on the road to recovery today. I hope.

spooky





october

29 10 2009

love it.





out of step with debt

20 10 2009


I grew up watching cartoons. One familiar storyline in cartoons is what I call the “stork mixup”. An animal baby gets delivered to the wrong parent. A chicken egg hatches in a nest full of crocodile whelps.  A misappropriated lion grows up thinking he is a sheep.

At times, being back in my “home” culture after 3 years abroad, feels this way–as if I’ve become misplaced. I feel out of step with the prevalent culture around me.

I know that comparisons are dangerous. We all try not to do it. But it’s difficult, especially in a country like the U.S. that is obsessed with financial status. For my family the oddball issue we face is our aversion to the D-word (OK, for clarity’s sake, I’ll say it…debt.)

Christa and I currently have none. No mortgage, no school loans, no credit card balance, nothing. Our bank account is not large, we have a little money tucked into retirement and are investing towards our kid’s education, but there is not really any negative balance associated with our name.

No big investments nor big expenditures right now. That’s not a bad thing, but it feels weird at times. Like we’re the only ones living this way. I know we’re NOT, but I can’t shake the lingering feeling of it.

It wasn’t always this way. I’ve struggled through my fair share of debt and deficit spending. Things have been tight at times and for many years we did live under the weight of large college loans. But we’ve also received a lot. In many ways, we were financially secure for many years as missionaries, due to the kindness / generosity of MANY others. So I don’t feel as if I am morally superior to anyone in this respect. A lot of grace was extended to us that we are grateful for. But we also made a lot of hard decisions along the way to not go into debt. We’re still making those choices today. And I must say, it is almost unequivocally, a choice for most of us U.S. Americans.

Now that we are back in the U.S. and integrating back into the 9 to 5 work-a-day world, I am amazed at how commonplace it has become to live with debt–to excuse, espouse and often glorify it. Our government operates this way and has for many, many years. The economists seem to optimistically expect Americans to continue to live beyond their means in order to “pull” our country out of recession / depression. I am not speaking to any political party or policy. I think it is the POLICY across the board, whether it’s spoken aloud or not. We spend what we don’t have. We borrow until we’re buried in it. We don’t really know how to say No.

Case in point: every U.S. citizen expects to be a homeowner (seeing it almost as a human right) in their mid-20s (most definitely by your mid-30s) regardless of income or spending habits.  The backlash of people losing or short-selling their homes in the last year is evidence enough that that system quickly collapses like a house of cards with rising unemployment or financial struggle. Not to mention how that house can suddenly “own” you very fast…the turnaround can be quick.

Don’t even get me started on entertainment spending or the Christmas shopping craze in this country..

This is just not how the rest of the world lives. Why should our expectations and sense of entitlement be so much higher than our global neighbors’? Is affluence its own justification? I think not. As Christians, how does living luxuriously beyond our means even come close to living and trusting God for our daily bread? How does it exemplify loving our neighbor as we love ourselves? These are tough questions I wrestle with.

Christa and I read Dave Ramsey’s Total Money Makeover when we came back to the States. His ideas about not-living-with-debt resonated with something we’d been living out for a long time. His plan also helped us formulate a budget to help us live even more proficiently within our means. This is not an infomercial for his book, nor is it meant as an indictment on folks who choose another way, but I think it definitely made in impact on how we want to live. It just seems like good common sense.

I’ll close by saying that, sure, I’d like to be a home-owner some day.  A flat-screen sounds nice, too.  And a Hummer…(Haha.) I’m not against houses or buying comfortable things–within reason.  But I hope I’ll also ask myself all the tough questions Jesus asks about security, idolatry, and riches.  I hope I can stay close (in proximity / spirit) to folks who have much less than I so that I don’t start to fit my demographic.  I don’t want to lose touch or blindly follow the cultural norms–especially if it involves diving like lemmings off a cliff.

I also don’t want to start dropping my Entitlement Visa on the counter every chance I get. Maybe that makes me unpopular, self-righteous, or eccentric. But I’ll happily take the ugly duckling role, among swans, if it means I can swim around the pond debt-free. 

p.s. As with most systemic problems this post is not aimed at individuals but at our society as a whole. These opinions are my own and no offense was intended. A lot of my good friends are swans and I love them.