This may or may not become a reoccurring feature on the blog – but I thought I’d just set it up this way in case it does.
There are many things I like. Many things which you, Friends of the Internet, do not know about.
One of these likeable things that I’ve got a thing for, just happens to be Bob Dylan cover songs.
Typically, I’m not a big fan of covers.
Every Elliott Smith cover I’ve heard has been terrible (although I don’t mind The String Quartet Tribute, or Christopher O’Reily’s album).
Beatles covers are almost always disappointing (Fun Fact: I traded the “I am Sam” soundtrack to Mike for the first Strokes record… yeah, I liked it that little).
But Bob Dylan covers, on the other hand, they almost always make my liver quiver.
And to be fair, I’m not the biggest Dylan fan (for lack of material, not necessarily for lack of affection). Fun fact though: I actually thought he was dead until Mike showed me that he had tickets to a show he was doing in Calgary. So, mostly I’m just familiar with his better known stuff – I’ve got a couple of his “best-of” compilations.
So here’s the deep question that’s been on my mind as of late:
“Does my affection for Bob Dylan cover songs stem from the fact that they’re actually that good – or does it just point to the fact that Im not as tied to Dylan as I am to Elliott and the Beatles.”
A difficult and pressing question indeed… the kind I ask myself whenever things get too heavy at work.
Anyways, here’s two of my favourites.
Andrew Bird singing “Oh Sister” and Jeff Buckley singing “I Shall Be Released”
My OCD side is loving it!
And this is other people in their blazers:
Apparently, according to google images, when your picture is being taken while wearing a blazer, you’re always supposed to hide one of your hands. Also, the top of your head is supposed to be cut off.
I’m kind of creeped out by this.
Also, flight attendants wearing neck-kerchiefs. That creeps me out. Nothing says “welcome to the future of air travel” like a neck-kerchief… except maybe large brooches.
This week – post-Christmas-pre-New-Years – is so odd. It feels like the town’s under siege or something. Just absolutely lifeless. Yesterday was especially brutal: first day back in the office; 8 hours all by my lonesome (except for one 10 second phonecall which wasn’t even for me).
On a happier note though, ready away:
- Last night (10:30pm-6:30am) my friend worked the overnight shift at the lodge. Upon arriving home, she took Clementine for a 15 minute jaunt on the treadmill and then proceeded to make me breakfast (bacon & egg mcmuffins, refried potato hash-browns, coffee, and orange juice). She’s good to me. We’re good to each other. It’s nice.
- Just got home on Sunday morning from a week in Cancun with my inlaws. What a fantastic vacation! It was my first all-inclusive resort experience – and I was a little nervous about “doing nothing” for a week straight – but it was just the kind of trip I needed at this point in my life. Here’s some highlights:
- Family. One of the nicest things about being “stuck” on a resort is that you’re “forced” to just be together – to talk, to rest, to eat, to nap.
- Weather. The heat and humidity actually penetrated my soul. Just the first 15 minutes was worth half the price of the trip.
- Ocean. I fought the waves and won. This prairie boy loves the ocean.
- Food. I finally remembered last night what it felt like to be hungry. And it wasn’t just quantities of food there, but the amazing quality that made it so good.
- Books. Read Coupland’s Microserfs. Loved it.
- Slowness. Total indulgence of my passion for slowness… although I think the family had about enough of it by the end of the trip.
- I know that fitness resolutions around this time of year are so cliched, but I’ve seriously got to stop treating my body like a meat-wad that simply harbours my mind and soul. I might not look it – but I definitely feel it. 8:00am on Monday/Wednesday/Friday are “Couch to 5K” running mornings and Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday are weight days. I’m shooting for 9 weeks of this starting this upcoming monday. I’ll keep the internets privy to my progress.
- I’m really feeling homesick for Regina these days. It would be so nice to cozy up by the parent’s fireplace to watch some World Jr. Hockey and College Bowl games.
- I’m speeching this Sunday. We’re getting into a new series on the Meta-narrative of the Bible (something I’ve wanted to do for a while). Creation, Crisis, Calling, Conversation, Christ, Church, Consummation.
- Below is my favourite photo-set from the trip. I achieved this look by following 4 easy steps:
- Position camera and tell the subject to smile.
- Take picture
- Quickly say “Oops” (or something similar)
- Repeat steps 2 & 3 until the desired effect is achieved.
Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.
~ James 3:1 ~
Every time I’ve heard this verse quoted, it’s been a part of some “know your theology” type lecture: God will hold you accountable for the kind of truth you communicate.
And, admittedly, that’s probably an accurate interpretation of the text.
Fair enough.
But lately I can’t help but wonder if James here wasn’t stating a present human fact just as much as he was some future spiritual reality:
When you teach, people will critique you. If you can’t stand being judged, then think twice about teaching.
Sketchy exegesis, sure – but an undeniable truth nonetheless.
And here’s the thing:
I love to dialogue with people and to hear their comments. I’m even pretty open to critique and criticism – and the people I serve and teach give it so graciously. But the thing I just can’t stand is being misunderstood. I hate feeling misunderstood. Abhor it.
When I think about it, this is probably the main reason that I dislike monologue speeching. There’s only one shot to say what you mean. You put it out there, and however people choose to interpret it is the way that it generally stays (this is why I’m always writing and revising and revising and revising up to the very last hours of the week).
And, for me, it’s tough – getting up and giving of myself in this way. Because, it’s not like I teach because I long for the spotlight. It’s not like I teach beacuse I think I’m the best one for the job. And it’s not like I teach because I think I’ve got an angle on truth to share that no one else has ever thought of.
I teach, simply because that’s what I feel like God is asking of me at this point in my life. That’s it.
Now, you wouldn’t guess by the tone of this post, but Sunday’s service actually went really well. The above was just some thoughts that I needed to get out there this morning.
Here’s the talk:
It’s Monday morning and we’re on our way back to Westlock.
Sigh.
Like Dad said, the whole thing is kind of bitter sweet. It wouldn’t have been nearly as exciting on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday if the Rider boys weren’t there, but at the same time, if it was Calgary who was there losing on the last play of the game, Monday morning wouldn’t hurt nearly as bad as it does right now.
I’m still not sure how to name the emotion though. It’s not dissapointment – becuase the players and coaches managed to put together one of the greatest Rider teams I’ve ever seen take the field – they stood on their heads all season – especially down the stretch. And by no means is it anger or frustration either. The closest I’ve come to identifying it is to quote the Proverbs: a hope deferred makes the heart sick.
A sick heart.
A deferred hope.
That’s pretty close.
I just can’t begin to imagine though how the team must feel this morning…
All in all though, my first Grey Cup has been an experience that’ll stick with me for the rest of my life – the good and the heart-sickening. Just a precious time with Mom, Dad, and Kimberly.
Thanks for the season Rider boys.
Can’t hardly wait until June.
Here’s what it looks like when hundreds of Rider fans crash (read: voluntarily join in on) the Grey Cup parade.
