On Christmas

Our Tree

As our Christmas Eve celebration drew to a close last night, The RM announced that the Christmas morning festivities would begin promptly at 8:00AM. He was as serious about that statement as I've ever seen him. Since he was a wee one, he has been our primary Elf on Christmas day and apparently after two years of missing out on his duties, he was prepared to take them most seriously.

Sufficiently warned, we took to our beds, thinking we'd close our eyes for just a moment in order to do the things Santa proxies do. We were wrong, as that moment turned into a full night's sleep. I awoke and did my Sunday morning thing, including two crosswords, a shave and a shower, when it dawned on me that A) we'd not done our duty as Santa proxies and the tree was looking pretty barren and 2) it was uncomfortably close to 8:00AM. I roused the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML from her slumber and we quickly got things taken care of before The RM woke up.

He woke up shortly before the appointed hour and he was immediately agitated concerned that not every one was manning their battle stations, as it were. We woke CAL and we proceeded downstairs to first see what had made its way into our stockings (Poo Pouri was a big hit with one of us! Guess who?). Then our six year old, I mean twenty one year old, insisted we get to the main event - the opening of the presents. Although he ceded the "Elf" role (gift distributor) to me because I was closest to the tree, he directed it (my pacing was no good so I think I will not be reprising my role). Even as a young adult, his reactions were classic. For CAL, most of her gifts were shipped to her place behind the Zion Curtain - lots of things to stock your new adult world. For the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I, the joy of Christmas came in having two-thirds of our children with us. It has been simply wonderful. Simply wonderful.

As we gathered at Church later in the day for a brief service, I ruminated over the the third verse of the carol, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,"

And in despair I bowed my head:

"There is no peace on earth," I said

"For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men."

and I was saddened that there is little peace in our world and hate is strong and sadly is only going to get stronger under the hate-based regime of the newly elected Fuhrer President of the United States, but I did see hope today. I saw it in my children, sat beside my wife and I as we worshipped. I saw it in the joy we felt as we opened our presents this morning. I saw it earlier this week as we relished being surrounded by dear friends during an all too quick visit to Chicago. Also earlier this week, I saw so much good as people from near and far rallied to help another dear friend find her missing father (delighted to report that it turned out beautifully).

So, yes, there is good in this world and there is yet reason to hope. Merry Christmas, my friends.

We missed these guys, but they're having a sweet Christmas
celebration behind the Zion Curtain

16 Days (but who's counting?)

That, my friends, is one BOSS pan of paella!

Believe it or not, after today's installment from TMFKATB from behind the Zion Curtain, there will only be two more updates. He has a mere 16 days left before his two year service comes to an end and he returns home.

16 days - but who's counting?

From this week's letter, I think TMFKATB may be counting, but more about the things he has yet to do and the people he has yet to see.  He was pretty excited about the progress they are seeing in a person they've been working with for quite some time. He's had a chance to see the goodness in people as the hand of fellowship has once again been extended from multiple people to this family from Venezuela that they've been working with too and he was grateful for those kindnesses.

People are recognizing that he'll be leaving in a couple of weeks and in Latin tradition, that means fiestas. I mean check out that ridiculous pan of paella. That was done for one the missionary's birthdays! That thing is fan-freaking-tastic! He knows he won't see this kind of celebration for awhile. He'll face a lot of "lasts" over the course of the next few days. As he closed his email today, he said to us:

It's getting real! I am going to miss this.

He wasn't talking about the paella (although how can you not miss that?) of course. He'll miss the people. He'll miss the work. He'll miss the service. He'll miss so much. But it's time to get ready for the next phase of life. So much awaits him. But he'll be ready for it, even though he may not know it yet. He's got sixteen more days of an experience that he'll never have again. He doesn't need to worry about what's next. Like I told him today, just enjoy what you've got now.

In the meantime, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I will keep the countdown clock going. 16 days. It'll be here in no time! In proof, though, that A) he is truly aware that he's coming home and B) that he is my son, he wanted to know what I was doing about getting him upgraded on his Delta flights home. Clearly, he hasn't heard about the changes to the Skymiles program in the last two years. He'll enjoy is seat in Coach.

It's time to go to work

Apricot tree - harvesting the goodness therein 

In the last line of TMFKATB's letter today, he wrote the following:

I only have five full weeks left of the mission!

It's time to go to work!

That sentiment made me smile. It's more than safe to say that over the course of the last two years, in both Mexico and behind the Zion Curtain, he has busted his proverbial hump working and serving. One could justifiably argue that he really did bust his gut serving in Mexico, so his declaration that it was time to go to work today was just a little funny. 

He's recognizing that he only has five weeks left (seriously, he's only got five weeks to go) and there's a lot yet to be done. I'm quite sure he knows he will not have an experience like this again and he's determined to live it to the fullest up to the very end.

His week, per his letter, was a little chaotic as they find themselves deeply invested in the welfare of a family that has recently arrived in the United States from the chaos that is Venezuela. The family of six was staying with another family of seven in an apartment clearly not made for 13 ("Code Violation on aisle six!) and they were given two days notice to hightail it out of the place so that the other family would not be evicted. TMFKATB and his companion became pseudo real estate agents as they worked to find a place for this family to stay / live. In what he called a miracle, they were successful. They found someone that was willing to give the family their basement as a temporary place to stay while they work to get further settled. He was so excited that they were able to help this family. There are good people in this world. There really are. 

I'm glad he was reminded of that. I'm glad he's determined to work up to the end. I can't believe it's nearly here.

Because food

Because a boat of sushi is good for the soul

After what I can safely say has been the most intense (#TheStanfordRapist, the slaughter of 49 innocent people because assault rifles are meant for target practice) weekend of blogging here in the Den, I think we're ready for a bit of a pivot. And what better way to pivot than news from TMFKATB? This week's update was a brief celebration of the good he encountered this past week. While given Sunday's vicious hate-fueled slaughter in Orlando, it may be hard to believe there's much good left in the world, there still is.

TMFKATB saw it as they were dealing with their own broken down car. Someone was willing to help them and get it going again. He saw it in the face of someone who was willing to let them in and hear what they had to say. Those are little things but I needed to hear that today. There's still some good out there.

He also, proving yet again he is so my son, celebrated the food they encountered this week. How can you go wrong when you celebrate your lone day off as a missionary with sushi for lunch? Or when you get to dive into stuff like this:

Shrimp cocktail - he called it the best he'd
had in a long time

God bless my Cuban soul! Arroz, frijoles negros,
ropa vieja y plátanos

These meals that he had were given to him by people as acts of kindness. Again, there's still good out there. And what better way to celebrate that goodness than over a good meal. Because food is awesome and a welcome relief from the Hellscape of this past weekend.

Editorial Note - Saturday's post on #TheStanfordRapist has quickly become the most read post in the Den. Mine is but one voice but I can only hope that it has sparked a conversation in your sphere of influence about turning away from the rape culture that is so pervasive in our country. Sunday's post, while raw in the wake of the slaughter in Orlando, has also garnered a lot reads and has sparked some discussion on the Facebook. Conversation time is over. Our elected officials need to stop genuflecting at the blood-soaked feet of the NRA and do something to stop this madness. Now.

Good Friday

Today, Christendom celebrates Good Friday. As a man of faith, the events of the Easter season, Christ's death and resurrection that are so beautifully chronicled in Scripture, are a source of tremendous comfort and peace to me. In a world that is full of tumult right now, that comfort and peace I feel is a tremendous gift. It makes me want to shout, 'Hallelujah!'

Because He lives, I have found peace
Because He lives, I have hope
Because He lives, I am happy

Because He lives, I know there is still good in the world. Good people doing good things for their fellowman.

May we be good to one another, even love one another in spite of our differences, not just today because it's Good Friday, but everyday.

A rose among the thorns

Yale University @yale.edu

The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML awoke this morning with an URGENT need to go to that purveyor of all things Swedish (except there was not a Volvo, Saab, or ABBA department to be found), IKEA, for dishes. Yes, dishes. Don't ask.

This being Connecticutistan, per the Politburo that runs the state, it means that no "big box" retailer can be located conveniently to anyone and that it must involve at least a 45 minute drive (hence increasing the chance you will have to get gas and plough more tax dollars into the coffers for which you will receive ZERO benefit), so it was off to New Haven for us.

New Haven. It sounds so pastoral, so New England, doesn't it? After all, it has the word 'haven' in it. A haven, as defined, is a place of safety or refuge. It even suggests a place of tranquility. Well guess what? The word 'haven' needs to be suing New Haven, CT for defamation of character as it is anything but a tranquil place of refuge or safety. What it is is a place of high crime, significant diversity and poverty issues (talk about income gap), and a craptastic infrastructure (suffice to say, methinks the New Haven Visitors Bureau shall not be asking me to write this year's tourism brochure). It is also a place of roses among thorns. Wait...what?

Rose #1 - The Yale University Campus
After a successful incursion at IKEA, we made our way over to the Yale campus for a bit of a walk around. If you've never been to the storied campus and you've envisioned an old campus in the leafy foothills of New England, snap out of it. The only foothill is an onramp onto the I95, just south of the university. Instead you have a beautiful old campus, punctuated with greenery, and smelling of history, smack in the middle of the sickly ('Get a transplant, STAT!') heart of New Haven. As we walked through a couple of the colleges, the engraved arches, the heavy iron gates and stately wooden doors to the buildings quietly honored the rich history of the university and the learning that continues to this day. It certainly helped that since Mother Nature has yet to go all 'Snow SheHag' on us that the campus was fairly green in places. We talked a bit about the beauty of the campus and its 'rose among thorns' status and that has stuck with me today.

Rose #2 - Shake Shack
Right across the street from the Yale campus is an outlet of Shake Shack, definitely the other rose in the thorn fiesta that is New Haven. We went there for lunch post-IKEA, mostly as a reward to me because I managed to get through the IKEA without loudly complaining. This proves that even though I am entering my 50th year, I am still an arrested adolescent. Lovely. It gave us the chance to try their new Chick'n Shack sandwich, and I can happily give a "Go Eat This!" rating. That's based on just one bite as it was the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML's lunch order. I can't not go to the Shack and not get a burger. That would be a travesty.

So post-Shack / IKEA, I've been thinking about roses among thorns. Our lives are full of them, I know mine is. In Kolkata, India, I saw it in the light in the eyes of the people who had less than nothing and are largely scorned as they smiled at me from their shacks (and I'm being generous in that description) on the outskirts of a huge outdoor marketplace there. In that same city, I saw roses in the form of the sisters of the Missionaries of Charity order as they tenderly cared for the 'thorns' there. The 'thorns?' The forgotten, rejected, 'untouchable' people, not thorns at all. I've seen it in random of acts of kindness all over the world. I've heard it in the laughter of my grandson. That laughter is a powerful reminder that there is joy and goodness in this world.

A complaint-free trek through IKEA.
The sensation of a bit of the grease, yes grease, from a really good burger dribbling down your chin.
The beauty of an inspiring university campus.

Roses among thorns, indeed.

One last thing - why has Yale not erected a statue to its most revered alum, C. Montgomery Burns? Talk about a travesty....

Making it work

Bike / All around hauler

 This week's letter from TMFKATB was yet another one that made me grateful for the wisdom possessed by a twenty year old. It often outstrips the wisdom that I think I have. I have to keep reminding myself that just because you are older, doesn't necessarily mean you are wiser.

He was pretty excited about the simple success of loading a week's worth of groceries onto a basket in a bike. The fact that the haul got from the grocery store to the apartment all in one piece was worthy of celebration. He was pretty excited to make it work.

The haul

There was that excitement but there was also perspective in his letter. He mentioned that they were the targets of a lot of yelling this week and he seemed to take it in stride. He tried to invoke the familiar refrain of "What would Jesus do?" and he did what he felt prompted to do and that was to express love. This is a kid who loves his fellow man for who they are. He sees people as brothers and sisters, not as labels or stereotypes. He sees the good.

I needed that little dose of wisdom and that reminder to see and find the good. I've been challenged to find the good in the last few days and it's not been easy. But I'm going to take a lesson from my son and find a way to make it work. And I'd do well to remember to see the good, too.

Cops

Springfield's finest

Cops. Police. The Fuzz. The Po'po.

No, this is not an ode to that old Fox Television gem that still lives on today. Seriously, new episodes are still being produced. If I learned nothing else from that televised train wreck, it is that there's nothing a crackhead loves more than a set of pink curlers in their hair, ill-fitting t-shirts, and a trailer park. If you see any combination of the three, grab a seat and a bucket of popcorn, because it is about to go down!

My history with crackheads is decidedly light as is my interaction with the police. I have several friends who are former police officers and they are some of the most stand up, decent people I know. Two of them in particular have an empathy and a love for their fellow man that you don't often see in others, let alone former cops. I think that empathy comes from seeing people at their lowest and seeing what happens when redemption occurs. It's fascinating and encouraging.

In the media, you don't often get to see that side of the police. Too often, in television and movies, they are buffoons or criminals themselves. In our era of 'always on' news, it is the rogue or murderous cop that deservedly gets the headlines, not the ones who do their jobs, and do them well, day in, day out. As is typically the case when anything gets painted with a wide brush, the truth lies somewhere in between. Most cops are good cops. They want to do a good job and they care about the lives they are entrusted to protect.

They also like a good Asian burrito. Wait...what? What about the donuts, you ask? Ah, you slave to stereotypes! Let it go. Earlier this week, as I slipped out of my midtown office to head to the heinous Hell that is Penn Station for my slog home, I had one thing on my mind - getting dinner at the pop restaurant extravaganza that is Broadway Bites. A riot of taste from Colombian to Turkish delights, there are all kinds of options here to sate one's hunger, so of course, I was eating there. As I roamed around the stalls assessing my options, two of New York City's finest were doing the same. As I finally sidled up to Domo Taco, the two cops got in line behind me. After I placed my order, in a tone that could only come from someone capable of crushing someone's head in his bicep, I heard, "Sir, what do you recommend?" I turned around and what ensued was an awesome conversation with two cops about the finer points of Asian burritos and tacos. Turns out these two were beat cops from Brooklyn who were in the midtown 'hood on a special assignment. They were like kids in a candy store with all the food that was on offer. We debated the burrito versus the rice bowl and I convinced them that Korean-infused version was the way to go. After they got their food, we went our separate ways. They must have liked what they got because I didn't get arrested.

There are good cops and there are bad cops. There are good and bad people in every profession and in every walk of life. I'd like to think that they good outweighs the bad. In the end, it does. I'll take the good every time.

By the way, speaking of good, get the braised five spice pork burrito whenever you see it on a menu.

If you want a really good read on life as New York City cop, read "The Job" by Steve Osborne

"If a free society"

I decided to take this past Friday as a vacation day. Because work. One of the good things about our location here in Connecticutistan is our ability to flee get to either NYC or Boston pretty painlessly.  So the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I opted for day in Boston.

I'd wanted to get to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum for quite some time and we were able to spend some quality time there. Although I was born just a few years after his assassination, I know much of what he did in his three short years as President shaped the politics of the world in which I grew up. For example, his stance against the Russians and everyone's wacky Cuban uncle, Papa Fidel, ensured there would be a world for me to be born into. It's chilling just how close to the brink we were during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Wow, just wow. One of the cool things about the museum is the placement of many of Mr. Kennedy's quotes on the walls. The following, from his Inaugural Address in 1961, struck me:

If a free society cannot help the many who are poor,

it cannot save the few who are rich.

Those words were spoken more than fifty years ago and resound even more powerfully today. The chasm of poverty, intolerance, and unkindness that divides our society grows ever larger. It is a gross irony that our country will wrap itself in hysterics over a fundamentalist family that excuses molestation in its own ranks but demands death sentences for others accused similarly but we as a nation forget, or worse ignore, the plight of those in our own neighborhoods who go hungry nightly, or are marginalized because they can't afford medical care, or are kicked to the curb for any manner of 'offenses.'

We spent some time this afternoon with a few folks who have been marginalized and it was a profound reminder of how easy, and rewarding, it is to help our fellow man. The stunningly patient SML and I joined a few of the young people from Church that we work with at a shared residence in Hartford called Peter's Retreat. We had the chance to make dinner for the residents and, in a nod to our Catholic friends, throw down a few rousing games of Bingo. The residents, most of whom are living with HIV/AIDS, have been given the chance to get off the streets and get the care they need in a safe environment. It was a simple dinner of burgers and dogs and the usual accouterment but what was more valuable than the meal was the time together. It was great to sit with the residents and see how this place has impacted them for the better. Much of what is done at this place is volunteer-driven and I realized if I could have just recorded some of the laughter we heard and the thank you's and hugs that were shared, how much easier it would be to get people to share of their time here and places like it. 

I can remember when AIDS was a death sentence and the mere mention of it struck fear into any and all who heard it. No more and we saw that today. One of the other 'adults' in our group brought two of his children and they were active participants and to see them embracing people afflicted with HIV/AIDS with no fear (and why shouldn't they?) was beautiful. They simply saw them for who they are - people, their brothers and sisters really.

After all, that's what we are. Brothers and sisters. Our lives are made better as we do something good for one another. A simple act of kindness can make all the difference in someone else's life. Do something good.

On This Good Friday

It is Good Friday, one of the holiest days in Christendom. The events of this day more than a millenia ago ushered in a demonstration of pure love that is unmatched to this day. As a man of faith, I take great comfort in the events of the Easter season - Christ's death and resurrection - the victories over sin and death.

Because He lives, I have peace.
Because He lives, I learn from those around me each day.
Because He lives, I have hope.

No matter what you believe, it's a good time to take pause and reflect on that which is good in the world. There is still good out there. Plenty of it.



Remember to be good to one another, not just on this day, Good Friday, but every day.