Tour Update

Surprisingly or not surprisingly....the great Bridgwater Church of the Brethren has a network that does not require a network key. In this light when we're not breaking our voices (singing) but just breaking them(resting)...I have internet access. No...this church is not very Anabaptist, but we are attempting to re-baptize its inner sanctuaries with songs rooted in a deep choral tradition.

Practices have gone well....the group is a great group to work with, and I'm enjoying Ken Nafziger. The music is great fun:) Some of my favorite pieces have been "Wanna Baraka," and "Somlandela." Most of the songs are not ready to be heard yet...."but we go on."

Laudate Mennonite Ensemble

I likely will not be hanging out in the blogosphere for a time since I am traveling to VA to participate in a small Mennonite ensemble. Laudate Mennonite Ensemble is a group of approx. 14 - 16 musicians. We will be rehearsing for several days under Ken Nafzinger then doing a short weekend tour. Following the tour a recording is planned at Bridgewater Church of the Brethren I believe.

Though the ensemble has produced at least one recording in the past, this is the first year that I have joined the parade. Pray that music would live!

Here is a very basic tour schedule:

Thursday, July 30^th – program at Kempsville Mennonite Church, Virginia Beach, VA (time????)

Friday, July 31^{s _} 7:00PM Program at Saint Thomas Christian Fellowship.

Saturday, Aug 1^st - 7:00PM program at Mechanic Grove Church of the Brethren, Quarryville, PA

Sunday, Aug 2^nd – 9:30AM Program at Word of Life Mennonite Fellowship. Lititz, PA. Leave for Bridgewater, VA at 1:00PM. 7:30PM Program at Bridgewater Church of the Brethren.

Economic Crisis, Recessions, and Stimulus Packages

The coping mechanisms just might be the most interesting by-product of the "tight wad" enduring an economic recession.

A resident at 48 Commonwealth Ave. in Boston's Back Bay neighborhood paid $300,000 in June for one outdoor, uncovered parking space, according to the listing agent.

Texas accountant Randy Reeves, 50, paid $1,500 cash in April for the dentist's mold of the upper and lower teeth of Tiny Tim, which the late singer had given to the seller.

In May, the University of Washington ran a two-month campaign of compassion to help out people hurt by the downturn in the economy. Fans of UW's football team who lost their jobs or are otherwise financially unable to renew their Huskies' season tickets can tap into a special philanthropic fund. A donor's $500 tax-deductible gift to "Dawgs Supporting Dawgs" would permit a hard-hit fan to maintain his place on the priority season-ticket list (though this year's seats would be in an inferior location).

And you gotta know the economy has hit a real low when man's best friend turns to marijuana.

"Heyyyy, Like 'Arf-Arf,' Man": Nestor Waddell had to rush his 11-year-old Labrador mix, Jack, to the vet in May when he started acting strange during a walk, which had taken him into some bushes. The vet concluded that Jack had discovered and devoured some dry, harvested marijuana. According to Waddell, "(Jack's) eyes were kind of glossed over. ... When he was trying to walk, he was looking at his paw, and then looking at the ground and then trying to get his paw to reach the ground, but was unsuccessful."

"United Breaks Guitars"

Another pop/classical group has recently climbed to new heights of popularity simply because a guitar was broken. Dave Carroll, had his guitar broken while flying United Airlines. After United Airlines refused compensation of any kind, Carroll decided to write a song about United Airlines and post it on Youtube. To date, Carroll's song has nearly two and one half million views. United Airlines has recently asked for a meeting with Dave Carroll and offered compensation.

Institution #1: Ramon Noodles or a can of worms

Is the Institution good, and is it necessary?

To my great sorrow, we have taught ourselves to look for the agenda behind every honest question. Do simple honest questions even exist? It could be easily pointed out that there are many questions being held in the closet, and one may wonder why I have chosen to open a can of worms when I could open a can of Ramon Noodles instead. If questioning the institution is really similar to opening a can of worms, why do it?

Nobody can deny that the institution is a personal matter for every one of us; the Church can become institutionalized…..education can become institutionalized….business can become institutionalized….even friendships/relationships can become institutionalized. These are things that each one of us have invested our lives in and care about deeply, so we are playing with the personal elements of our own lives. When I question the institution, I question myself. If you don’t want to hurt yourself, don’t ask yourself such questions and stick to opening Ramon NoodlesJ!

It is no secret that my generation, the postmodern generation, has made a habit of questioning the institution in its entirety (church, education, business, relationships, etc…). It is also no secret that the postmodern generation has had to work overtime to support this addiction.

Though Postmodernity is not new to general society, it is a new animal in our Mennonite communities. Our communities may very well be dealing with a postmodern youth group for the first time. I have noticed a fairly consistent lag time between general society and Mennonite communities. Just watch the fashions; they catch hold at least in some watered down shape or form several years after they have made their debut in the cutting fringes of fashionable society.

First of all, the Postmodern generation inherently questions the institution, and secondly, I am of the postmodern generation. Therefore, questioning the institution is not merely just that. I hang in the balance. Do I join my generation, or…..do I launch out as an island and forsake my generation. My community is basically modern today, but the same community will be postmodern tomorrow. The question for me is, “Will it be Ramon Noodles or the can of worms?”

Dogs, Skunks, and Peripheral Vision

My day only begins when it gets dark. On cool clear nights I either go running or grab a mug of hot drink and take a stroll over hill and dale. Tonight it was the latter.

I was strolling down and old lane that meanders through some woods and along several hay fields. I was staring at my feet, and God Almighty, thankyou for peripheral vision! I think the extra couple degrees of peripheral vision that my doctor said I have came in handy for the first time in my life(apparently my eyeballs bulge farther forward than most or something). Just on the itsy bitsy edge of my field of vision, a blob of white caught my attention. After promptly pulling the emergency brake, I shifted my gaze to the blob of white. Not ten feet away, staring me full in the face was the aft end of a skunk.

Now, I've looked down the barrel of an empty gun before, and I can now tell you that though that does make the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge, it doesn't even compare to peering down the barrel of a loaded one; especially a black and white one. I couldn't tell for sure if this particular skunk had a finger, but if he did...it was on the trigger.

Though I've always considered myself to have fairly quick reflexes, I now know they are much faster than I ever realized because they performed three quick "stop drop and rolls" and my body still hadn't moved a nanotitch. The tension in the air was singing incredible high notes and held for the eternity of a pregnant split second. Within this split second I mentally researched how long an average skunk can sustain a steady stream, calculated the distance between the skunk and myself, wondered where I would get enough tomato juice to bath in, and made a mental note to play more dodge ball with my students this coming year.

It was at this point that I was made aware of the fact that Jackson, our dear Labrador Retriever, will do anything for his master. He came thundering in and promptly sacrificed any self that he possessed, taking it full in the face. Jackson then matter of factly turned a beautiful dog donut and struck out for home at a high rate of speed ( I simply say "high rate of speed" because it would be difficult to estimate his actual speed considering the way he was ricocheting off trees, rocks, and other free hanging debris).

Meanwhile the skunk scurried into some nearby bushes, and I was left standing in a gaseous cloud of witnesses. Thinking that it was a good time to call it a night, I struck out for home.

This is where the story must end because the comments I received upon entering the house ought to be taken out and frozen in a slow moving glacier somewhere where they wont reappear for at least several generations.