MI double S I double S I double P I

One of the most painful moves with my fathers work life was being uprooted from small town Alabama to State Capital Jackson, Mississippi, shortly before the 10th grade. The connections, the sports reputation I had been building, the freindships were gone in an instant as I jumped in the 62 Pontiac to move due west to the tune of the then #1 hit song by the Rolling Stones, "I can't get no, Satisfaction".

Lost in the halls of a big school, too late to try out for football, suddenly rather outclassed in basketball in this school, I had a lonely year, riding a bus to school, feeling a bit lost. The Civil Rights movement had seen some ugly incidents in Selma and Philadelphia MS, but it passed me by, except when I realized that they shut down all the city run swimming pools the summer I moved to avoid segregated swimming. All around the city neighborhood swim clubs with local membership began to spring up, and I began the avocation that would mark my life for the next eight years, being a lifeguard and water safety instructor. In a large town the racial barriers still existed, but there were large distances between the white and black side of town, so I felt more isolated from racial interaction in Mississippi in those first years.

Change is good

One of the deep and abiding memories of my youth is the move from upstate New York to southern Alabama over the holidays of my fifth grade year. The climate, the lifestyle, the culture were all radical changes for me. The four years I lived there were rich and joyful, but I saw the realities of segregation on the Cenntenial of the fighting of the Civil War. Two sides of town, two school districts, two shopping areas, white diners, white swimming pools, white little league and sports, white bowling alleys, white bands, white friends, and of course...white churches.

Racial slurs, racial jokes, racial hatred, combined with a strange affection for the black maids who served in our homes and helped raise us. We borrowed Ula to help mom with the wash and she may have been my first black acquaintance. She had developed a subservient manner that was charming and enabled her to serve as a racial bridge.

We slipped easily into this lifesytle, but even then, something bothered me deeply about it. It would be in that Jr. High and in that home I would witness the assasination of President Kennedy and the harsh entrance into a spiritual shift into an adult world that would include questioning the core values of segregation. Even then I knew this needed to change.

The Blessing and pain of Hospice

Another sweet Saint nears the Kingdom as I write. Cinderella (yep, her real name) is dying in the 97th year of life. I sat with her in Hospice today where every effort to keep her comfortable during the dying process is being made.

I prayed and spoke to her and thanked her for all the love she has lavished on our church and community, and then I asked God to take her. This is never a prayer God answers on my terms, and I think and often share that the heart and lungs are organs that function without our permission and are not turned off or on at will. There strength that got her to this age is the strength that makes her final breathes hard to predict or hasten.

Her family has been so loving and supportive. It is not always an easy thing to be present when someone is nearing the end of life. .

Music for the sheer joy of it

I enjoyed the Weekly Fast Session at Fibber McGee's. I knew these happened all over the world. Groups who buy their own instruments and practice alone in order to get together for no pay and little praise just to enjoy the tradition and magic of Irish Jigs, Reels, Hornpipes, Spratheys, and Airs.

You become a part of tradition, of music written by untrained musicians, gathering in pubs and parlors over the centuries to provide entertainment and dance for just the family, the neighborhood. I love this music because it is so accessible. I could probably never perform in a jazz combo and definitely not a symphony, and just barely the praise band at Church, but with some discipline you can drum, strum, blow, and enjoy. Now, Irish fiddlers and pipers, they pass down an instrument that takes a life time to master, and those simple tunes have some of the most intricate and beutiful blend of rhythm and variations you could ever hope for.

Election week is finally here

You know that commercial where everone is going to work with their number under their arm? It's supposed to represent people's retirement goals, or their actual dollars saved so far??? I am not sure which. I would be embarrassed to carry mine around publicly. But with it's recent bashing I am left curiously numb about the results of this election. When your retirement funds dissapear in a month, you begin to feel that no election can damage your future as much as this financial perfect storm.

I resent the fear mongering about the future some Christian leaders are doing. The more our culture abandons traditional values, the more important it will be for me to hold on to my faith and values. I voted pro-life and pro-strong defense. After watching the documentary Obession, Radical Islams hatred of the West, I agreed with Charles Krauthammer, who said, "the economy goes up and down, but we have a barbarian at the gate that needs to be resisted".

If my candidate loses, I will pray for and support the elected president. Really, I will, from my heart, and I will fight for the things I believe in by living and teaching them.

Come Fly With Me

More flying than usual this summer. Phx to New Orleans, Phx to Denver, Phx to Indianapolis. All round trips of course. I think the shoe bomber should have to pay for the indignity of the shoe removal. The amazing thing about flying is how far you can go. Four hours to Indianapolis would take four days of hard driving. I miss the food flights. We need to make this industry succeed in providing affordable travel, safe travel, competitive travel. I am so pround of Hawaiian Airlines for emerging from bankruptcy. I hope we continue to be able to visit those Islands cheaply in the future.

Cherish the Ladies Concert Report

Cherish The Ladies performed in Scottsdale tonight. Led by flutist/whistler Joanie Madden this group has been together 20 years, has over ten CDs, and plays some of the best Irish Traditional music you could wish to hear.

The Arts Center is closed this year so we were in a venue nearby that had about 400 seats, and mine were 15 ft from Joanie, eye level. We heard a number of her own creations, and enjoyed very talented step dancers throughout the evening. The Irish soloist sang mostly sad melodies with a hauntingly beautiful voice. The reels and jigs lifted up the crowd who claped and joined in on several choruses.

Joanie's boisterous humor and introductions, explanations, and teasing kept everyone laughing. The Scotch pianist spoke with such a heavy accent that Joanie teased her and she replied, they understand me Joanie, Im in Scotts.....dale. Funny.

There were a few boo boos which added to the authenticity, and she made the whistle truly sing. A beginner like myself can see the potential of this powerful and simple instrument. I could not tell the whistle maker, it was dark with polished silver joints and a long fipple. She played mostly high D and some G or F whistles.

Two and one half hours with a fifteen minute break, each artist had her moment to shine on a number of songs, the lovely guitarist Mary Coogan was celebrating her fiftieth birthday.

Laura and I completely enjoyed it, and were invited to come to Fibber McGees on Sunday to play along with the local irish trad lovers. I have been playing over a year and I am still pretty bad, but I am ready to start playing with others. If they get to your area you should go and enjoy this.