Comma Dot Comma

Awhile back I complained about a Francine Rivers audio book. I think there’s something wrong with my selection technique (run into library, grab items with interesting titles) because my follow-up selection, the Devil Wears Prada, was quite a slog as well. It is sometimes okay to listen to real people complaining, but to listen to fictional characters complain for hours on end gets to be a chore. Also, there were a lot of double and triple “reallys” to contend with. As in, “I’m really, really, really sorry, Miranda.” As usual I listened the whole way through anyhow. Why do I do this?
But I have been rejoicing on the commute the past two weeks at the perfection of Pride and Prejudice, which is probably more enjoyable to hear read aloud in a proper British accent than it is to read it quietly to oneself. There is not a wasted word anywhere, and while I sometimes wished for direct speech instead of reported speech at crucial moments (such as Mr. Darcy’s first and second proposals), I could not begrudge Ms. Austen the efficiency of simply giving me the gist. I don’t know how I failed to appreciate this properly before, but it is actually giggle-aloud-in-the-car funny. Though a world of landed gentry and servants and days spent doing needlework and walking around the grounds could hardly be more foreign to me, the foibles and vanities of the characters are as 21st century as an ipod.
It is hard to resist going around talking like them.

You are all most amiable readers and I should be very shocked indeed to discover that any of you deserved to marry into less than 10,000 pounds a year, at the least.

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It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? Yikesy Daisies. Ok, brief rundown.

Christmas
My poor mom had an emergency root canal on Christmas Eve, but other than that the gang had fun in California, each of us patiently waiting for a turn at the Wii my sister brought with her. Yay guitar hero! The nephews lived up to the expected cuteness, with the youngest one (20 mos) demonstrating the lastest in dance moves. Step 1: Plant your feet as far apart as you can without falling over. Step 2: Stick your behind out as far as it will go, and keep it there. Wearing giant elmo slippers can help with balance. Step 3: When the music starts, lean from right to left like a skiier, shrugging your shoulders. Step 4: Once you get a good rhythm going, add hand motions to taste. Rockin!

2008
Do I have a resolution this year? No, not really. I would like to plant a tiny raised-bed kitchen garden, with a tomato, basil, cilantro, and jalepeno in it. I haven’t lived anywhere with even an outdoor porch since 2001, so this spring will be the first opportunity to try my hand at gardening as a grownup.

Doing a little recreating
I was laid low with a 10-day illness starting right after Christmas. Made matching coocoons in the bedroom and on the livingroom couch, and divided time between them. Read seven books and watched nine movies (latest discovery if you are the sort that likes the BBC miniseries Pride and Prejudice: North and South, also a BBC miniseries, set in industrial England in the mid 1800’s. Boy, the love interests in that one are going to have a loud marriage!). I’ve had quite a sickly year, the worst since I worked at the homeless shelter back in 1999. And that counts two years in a 3rd world country. This fact is making it more difficult for me to like Phoenix.

Food-related comment
Pozole is a yummy soup. You boil pork meat for about an hour with garlic, onion, and cumin. Then you skim off the fat, chop up the pork,and throw it back in the broth with some hominy, additional onion, crushed tomatoes, ancho chili paste, boullion, and chili powder. Let it cook another hour. Float fresh cabbage, avocado, radish, and lime on top to serve.

May whatever peace and joy you have be doubled and tripled this holiday season.

We are off to California to see the fam. I guess that means oh, half my readership will be in my presence for the next weekish. We were going to try to drive there via Chicken Springs Road but I think I got Dr. G to give up on the idea.

Later, Gators!

11 respondents
5 correct– 4
7 correct– 4
8 correct– 2
9 correct– 1

Survey results. 13 people played, but only 11 reported their results. All of them said they got at least half right. I was fascinated by the variety of incorrect answers:
Africa, South Africa, Kenya, Ethiopia;
Iran, Turkey;
Hong Kong, Korea, Vietnam, Thailand;
Mexico, Chile, Canada;
France, England, Germany.

Between us We got a lot of the world covered.

What would you say are currently the 10 most populous countries in the world? No cheating and doing and internet search. Someone at work mentioned the surprising fact that Vietnam is #13, which started this whole thing. Okay, here’s the quiz link.

Click Here to take survey

My youngest brother returned from a backpacking trip with his roommates to find a disturbing voicemail from his landlord on the cell phone. “WHAT is the meaning of this?” she asked. His roomates all had similar messages. They knew it must have something to do with the open house. She had called them all constantly in the days leading up to the trip, to make sure everything in the house would be just right and none of the quirky college guys would be around when potential buyers came through. Like good renters, the boys did their duty, cleaning and tidying and absenting themselves. What could it be? they wondered. Did they overlook something?

Well, just one little thing: A dozen signs taped all over the house, threatening violence and destruction in giant red letters.
“You dine in hell tonight!”
“A thousand nations descend upon you! Our arrows will blot out the sun!”
“Picture it reduced to ash at my whim.”

and so on.

They were quotes from the movie 300– decorations for a movie-watching party the guys had held the night before their trip. Whoops. It created a very nice, homey feel, as you might imagine.

Okay, the singer of O Holy Night has revealed himself. It is a Nashville music producer and arranger, who recorded the song on a dare at the end of a long recording session in the 90’s. So, while he is not a singer per se, he knows music and deliberately tried to recreate the many errors he hears beginning singers make. At first he was non-plussed that it got out; now he sees it as a fulfillment of his calling to lift people’s spirits with his musical talent. More info available from fred mckinnon, the blogger and radio personality who broke the story. Includes audio interview with the singer.

UPDATE: Well, someone has added an alternate possible source in the comments section. So, I feel I must clarify that there is still room for doubt. The person on Fred’s site a) does not have any corroborating witnesses (such as the sound engineer who recorded it) b) has only circumstantial evidence and c) doesn’t offer the ultimate proof that I was hoping for: singing at least PART of the song during the interview. However, his speaking voice, the story of the song’s recording, the timing, his musical background, and his speculation on how the song got out all offer a good enough case that I’m quite happy to go with it. Like so many things in life, you pick the best option with the evidence you have, and revise later if necessary. That’s my story and I’m stickin to it!

Tara, a new wife and soon to be new mother, wrote a great post about taking care not to elevate certain life experiences (childrearing and marriage) above others, particularly in their ability to teach commitment, cooperation, and selflessness.
Although I have been married ten years, I have no children. The question of kids always comes up, and with new acquaintances I answer simply: “No, I don’t have any. You?” Often this statement causes an awkward pause. In my Uncharitable Mind Reader moments, I interpret the pause as a mental process wherin the person tries to decide if she should feel sorry for me, or question my priorities. Once a stranger, after the pause, cheerily corrected me: “Yet!” she said. “You mean you don’t have any children yet.”
Yowch! Motherhoodisthepinnacleofwomanhoodism creates some major cultural minefields for me, despite my desire to raise a few mini-mes.
Tara’s post reminded me of some thoughts I’ve had on women’s experiences, and in particular, the experiences of christian women in the protestant church setting. The old strategies of discipling women by preparing them for marriage and motherhood have become inadequate. The reality is that marriage and motherhood are becoming smaller and smaller portions of womens’ lives. We are marrying later, postponing children longer, and having fewer children. We are also living much longer, and often outliving our husbands. An 85-year-old woman may have spent 45 years as an adult without children in the home. She may have spent 40 years or more of her adult life without a marriage partner. In the meantime, she may have travelled the world, earned multiple college degrees, led a nonprofit, patented a magic trick, started a business, taken up gardening, and helped raise a few grandchildren.
Limiting our support of women to mid-day Bible studies and Christian parenting classes just won’t cut it. My current church does not provide any gender-specific ministries as far as I know, which is one solution. But the protestants might could learn a thing or two from the Catholics on how to support single or childless people.
I have always loved, in principle, the idea of convents and monasteries, because they so unequivocally value the lives and experiences of those who do not marry. Convents in particular have the potential to create a community that is as nurturing as a family for women, while still giving them the opportunity for leadership, meaningful careers, and spiritual guidance. Because the religious communities are under the official umbrella of the church, their members are accorded as much or more respect as married women.
Contrast this with the (gradually becoming less?) typical protestant view of singleness or childlessness as a temporary situation to be waited out. Well, many women are “waiting” for decades. In the meantime, real life is happening, important decisions being made, and characters being tried and forged. The organized church is missing some wonderful opportunities.
Now. Caveats, as usual. The reality of some of Catholic organizations is that people abuse their authority, both within the walls and without. There can be secrecy, oppression, extremism, and abuse. The stories in the paper and from family and friends illustrate it over and over. That said, if religious communities for unmarried people worked the way they were supposed to (and I expect that some do), existed in much larger numbers, and were supported out of church budgets, people would flock to them.

Today I am going to share with you my one and only Christmas tradition. I hope you are worthy of it.

Like all good traditions, this one comes with rules. It is also a song,one that may be familiar to you: “O Holy Night.” But this is not just any version of the song. Dr. G found it somewhere on the internet several years ago and downloaded it. Once a year, we fish it up from the depths of the hard drives and listen to it again.

Rumor has it that this recording was sent by an aspiring vocalist as a demo to a Nashville record company, and some indiscreet staffer circulated it around. Others suggest that the achievements of this singer would be impossible for an amateur, and that every note is carefully planned. Either way, it’s a stunner.

As it played the other night, I found myself crumpled on the floor in a fetal position, laughing. Every time it seemed safe to uncurl, the singer would ramp it up a notch and I would seize up again.

It is truly The Worst Version of O Holy Night Ever Recorded. Here are the rules for participating in this tradition:

You must listen to the whole song.
You must listen to it at a sufficient volume.
If you don’t think it is funny, you must never tell me.

Mentally check here if you agree to these terms: ____

Ok. You can listen.
The Worst O Holy Night Ever Recorded