Everyone is Welcome

Remember back in grade school, when you were a youngster, still finding out where you fit in the world.  Each new grade presented new challenges; a different, strange classroom, tougher assignments, a 'musical-chairs' remainder of rearranged classmates.  It's really a lot to take in.  One of the few steady, reassuring things in a youngster's life is the idea that they are welcome, and that they are valued just as they are.  That trust establishes a relationship with learning that will last a lifetime.  

I am blessed with friends who teach at this vulnerable level; beyond getting the kids through learning objectives, the best of them focus on the emotional state of the young spirits entrusted to them.  

Signs like these play a surprisingly important role in that ... in reassuring an uncertain child that there is a place for them right there.  

It's difficult to imagine what provokes a school, or school district, to force a teacher to remove these affirmations.  But it's not at all hard to imagine what goes through the mind, and the precious, vulnerable hearts of the kids who see them disappear.  

These are strange times we find ourselves living in; fear, prejudice, and ignorance being passed off as values.  And it's horrifying to imagine that being passed on to the next generation.  

Everyone is Welcome

Costco - Chrstmas Eve

I hope this won't seem mean, but ...

[and don't we love sentences that start like that?]

I did a U-turn in the Costco parking lot yesterday, and went back home, because by 10:30, the competition for spaces was already ugly.  But I had to hit Costco again today, and planned to get there a half-hour early, to get a spot, and get in line at the door.  I checked their schedule online  this morning at about 8:40, only to see that they were opening, not at ten, but at nine.  Eek!  

I set aside my remaining half-mug of coffee, threw on the nearest clothes I could find, and bolted.  I got there about ten till nine, slipped right into a prime parking spot, and saw that they had already opened the doors.  I went in, and enjoyed one of the most relaxing Costco trips ever.  The few people there were in  good moods - smiling and laughing, casually chit-chatting about how pleasant the morning was.    I found everything pretty easily, then had my choice of checkout lines (well, not really 'lines', since there weren't any, but you get the idea).  I was out the door, shopping complete, and home by ten.  

That wasn't mean was it?  

Ricky Henderson

I've never been much of a dedicated sports fan.  I've enjoyed passing allegiances to Oregon, then Oregon State, but nothing serious.  But my move to the SF Bay area right after college in 1988 coincided with a high point for the Oakland As, and I was blessed With a convenient cohort of relatively new Chevron engineers, that didn't have a lot of competing plans for a summer weekend.  It was the first time I had been to a big league park, and I was floored.  The stadium was easily accessible via BART, and the outfield bleacher seats were cheap, with easy access to beer.  

Watching bash brothers Jose Canseco and Mark McGuire, along with an all-star cast of teammates play extraordinary ball was a fine way to spend an afternoon.  It's probably the only time in my life, before, or since, that I could name the entire  starting lineup of a team in any sport.  

But, as cool as they all were, there was nobody who compared to Ricky Henderson.  As good as he was in the field, and as lead-off batter, once on base, he was a combination of poetry and Vaudeville.  Pitchers couldn't concentrate on the batter, because they knew that any instant, Ricky would steal another base.  If baseball can sometimes be slow and lethargic to watch, that was never the case when Ricky was on base.  

I could go on ... but it's December 23rd, and other responsibilities call.  

RIP to the stolen base king! 

Beauty - Eternal and Ephemeral

 

Beauty and love, like Matter and Energy, are eternal.  They are neither created nor destroyed; they merely change form.  

Even when they seem to disappear into loss and grief, these

It is both eternal and ephemeral.    

Self Description in Spanish

Parte Uno

¡Buenas dias!

¿Cómo están ustedes?  

Yo estoy consado, pero feliz.  Yo trabajo mucho, pero Miécoles, yo voy a ver mi hija, Madeleine.

Me llamo Michael.  Mi pronombre es él.  

Yo soy estadosunidense.  

Mi ascendencia cultural es irlandés, y lituano. 

Yo soy medio-bajo.  Soy alegre, chistoso, y extrovertido.  Soy liberal y estudioso.  

Yo tengo sesenta y nueve años.  Mi cumpleaño es El diesiocho de febrero.  

¡Gracias a todos, todas y todes! 

¡Hasta luego!


Parte dos

Spanish is an international language.  Partly due to its history of colonization and of importation of enslaved Africans to some of these colonies, as well as the resultant intermarriage and interbreeding - both voluntary and involuntary inter Spanish speakers are an extremely diverse cohort.  The social mixing among the rainbow of Spanish speakers is much more effortless than between races here, which is gratifying to witness.  

¡Buenas dias!

Yo soy Michael.  Yo soy de Los Estados Unidos.  Yo soy estadounnidense.  

Tengo sesenta y nueve años.  Soy un poco viejo.  

Yo Tengo una hija.  Ella se llama Madeleine.  Tiene veinte y cinco años. Ella es intelligente y muy guapa

Soy de estatura medio-bajo.  Soy medianamente fuerte y atletico, pero un poco gordita.  

Yo Tengo los ojos azule y tengo los anteojos.  

Tengo el pelo y la Barba gris, como el hombre más interesante del mundo 

¡Mantente sediento, mi amigos!  

Four Strong Winds

This seems the perfect song for autumn.  The days are getting shorter, and a chill is in the air.  The leaves have turned to the underlying color that emerges when they doff their green work attire.  

The harvest is in - time to look back over the season; to count our blessings, and balance our losses.  As nature retreats beneath the surface to prepare its reemergence in spring, so we take time to reflect, and consider what best to plant when the lengthening days begin our next season of renewal.  

Four Strong Winds

-----

Ian Tyson, the man who wrote Four Strong Winds, Sang it together with his wife, and ultimately former wife, Silvia.  Their musical partnership endured longer than their marriage.  Performing that together after their divorce seems to be an ultimate act of courage.  

Ian was as good as his word.  He settle in Alberta, living out his days on a horse ranch he was able to buy with the royalties he received from Neil Young's version of his song.  Here Ian and Neil share memories of one another:

Ian and Neil

Kinky Friedman

American culture lost a legend last week, with the passing of Kinky Friedman.  He, along with his band, The Texas Jewboys, were an underrepresented minority in country music.   

A sampling of his wisdom.  Some of these quotes make more sense in the context of his run for Texas governor in 2006.

Kinky-isms

Kinky Friedman - They Ain't Makin' Jews