This was a big week for us. We were able to tell a few more key people and had a great time with the staff at the church as they heard, first hand, what has been going on with us. All of the staff members knew before we had a chance to tell all of them, but we were able to share more detail and more heart behind what was going on. The grieving process has already started for us and this was a particularly draining week for us emotionally. I may write more about that later, but I don't know that I have the strength right now.
One really unexpected thing happened on Wednesday. I decided at about 4:15 pm to run to Tree of Life to grab a book for Kyle Bixler for winning the office picks for the NCAA tournament. I was going to breeze in, breeze out and make it home in time to get us to a dinner date with the Kesslers before 5:00.
I walked in the music department door and headed straight for the 50% off books (not because I'm cheap, but because I had a few titles in mind and had said the prize would be $10 or less). As I rounded the corner by the main entrance I looked over at the cafe sitting area and locked eyes with someone I hadn't seen in several years.
Jake was a member of one of our ministry teams at Hanfield when his family attended the church several years ago. He was a good guy that we liked a lot, but he was a little different than most of the folks we had worked with up 'til that point. He had been hurt in the past in churches, especially where his service in ministry was concerned. When we met Jake, he lacked confidence but had a great heart and we wanted to serve with him. Unfortunately, one morning things blew up. A situation occurred that we didn't handle well that ultimately led to his family leaving Hanfield and we lost a friend. Before the family left, we tried to apologize and patch things up. It seemed to go okay for a month or so, but ultimately I think he felt he couldn't trust us and didn't believe that we wanted reconciliation. The family left and I hadn't seen Jake since.
When Jake went to Hanfield, he had lived in Somerset which is a small town about 13 miles northwest of Marion. It happens to be in an area that I ride my bike through a lot and I found myself thinking about Jake a few years ago. Since he had left, we had realized more and more how his past hurt amplified this hurt that we had inflicted on him. I thought about writing a letter to him to tell him (one more time) how sorry we were that we had hurt him and that we just didn't understand how deep that hurt was, but I didn't think he'd be receptive to more words from us and just decided to do my best to let it go. Our situation with Jake was always going to be a loose end for me that I would look back on and regret.
When our eyes locked, I knew I had to talk to him. He was sitting by the window with a freshly finished plate in front of him. We said hi to each other and then I said what had been in my heart for the better part of two years. I told him how I felt that I still had one last apology that I owed him, how I didn't realize how deeply we had hurt him and how much I regretted the whole situation. He was incredibly gracious, even apologizing for anything he had done to contribute to the situation. He said he didn't realize, at the time, how all of this other stuff was effecting him either. He said that he was a little older, a little wiser, a little more mellow and that everything was fine. I let him know how his situation caused us to look at what we had done wrong and helped us to change some things in the ministry that allowed for people with different personalities to be a part of the ministry and how sorry I was that he had to be a part of our learning experience. Jake said he really appreciated my coming over and told me how greatly God was blessing his family. The details and sequence of the conversation are all a bit fuzzy to me now, but the Spirit of God was thick in it. It was a better moment than I could have hoped for and a chance to patch things up with my brother.
I left with the book I had picked up and praised God all the way home. The loose end that the enemy would always use to condemn me and hurt me anytime I had conflict with someone in ministry had been taken care of in our last days in Marion. God is good.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Today's ride
Raining. 54 degrees. Man, did I want to ride this morning. Days like today are the days that I relish as a cyclist. Every other cyclist that I know probably saw the forecast last night or looked out the window this morning and said, "I can wait till (insert qualifier here)." I determined when I saw the forecast last night that I was going to be out in the midst of the wet, the cold, the traffic that wasn't expecting me, the glory of God. On days like this I feel like a real cyclist. Days like this test my resolve and build my discipline as I also strengthen my body for the season ahead.
I was thinking about ten miles into the twenty five mile ride about a ride I made last year. On that ride, I was going to go about 55-60 miles and knew that I had a window of opportunity early in the day, after which, it was supposed to storm with a pretty good chance of lightning, hail and even a tornado watch. I thought I had a better than even chance of beating it and left the house with a route in mind. As I headed northeast of town, I began to watch dark, menacing clouds in the distant northwest.
Everything was going according to plan as I pushed past 10 miles, 15 miles, 20 miles. As I began to approach the 25 mile point, the realization struck that I was not going to beat the storm home, especially if I finished the full length of the ride I had planned. I formulated a new game plan in my mind. I recognized that the storm front was forming in an arc from dead west of where I was to dead north of where I was and was moving in like a net to catch me. I decided that if I headed back on the route that I had just ridden (west and then south), I would be heading straight for a section that would probably catch me about 20 miles from home. If I headed south instead before turning west, there was a chance that I could beat the worst of it (which seemed to be to the north), leave myself with less miles to ride in the storm, and hopefully get home wet, but otherwise unscathed.
I flew south with as much effort as I could afford and the plan seemed to be working well. About 15 miles to my destination, I reached a section where I had to do about a three mile stretch west before I could head south again and felt, with some confidence, that I would be on my way south again before it got bad. I was about one mile east of my left hand turn to head south when I saw a lightning strike dead in front of me just a few miles off. This strike was huge and I knew that the thunder to follow would simply confirm my visual assessment.
I don't know how etched in your memory the explosion of the Death Star in the original Star Wars trilogy is, but I remember it as a big ball of sparks that grew less and less impressive as more special effect laden movies emerged in the twenty years after the initial Death Star explosion. In the Special Edition movies that they released in 1997 though, the explosion of the Death Star was huge enough to carry with it a visible sonic blast circle that rumbled and carried with it far more impact and reverberation as you felt like you experienced it for 20-30 seconds.
This lightning strike had nothing to do with the Death Star explosion circa 1977 and everything to do with its 1997 progeny. I felt it before I heard it and it continued to rumble and vibrate the air around me for what seemed an eternity. I knew the road I needed next was one mile ahead of me and that there was a chance I could beat the storm front if I had enough power left in the legs.
Now, the wind to this point had been out of the north-northeast (my habit is to start a ride into the wind and let it help me home). I gave everything I had going straight west. About 400 yards before my road, the front hit me. Immediately the wind changed from about 12 mph from almost behind me, to about 30 mph from almost dead in front of me. I went from riding at about 21 mph to 9 mph in a heartbeat and knew that I was in big trouble. This was still early in the year, so dust from the fields began to kick up in my face and I felt the first wet offering of the day's forecast. The temperature dropped about ten degrees and I pushed on until I hit the road south. The wind was now somewhat at my back and I used what little energy I had left and my former enemy now turned ally (the wind) to hammer south away from the brunt of the storm. Rain fell harder and in sharper drops. Before long, small pieces of icy hail were pelting the skin on my legs as I continued on.
Thankfully, the farther south I got, the more it let up and by the time I hit my last stretch into town to the west, all I had to contend with was the cold and rain and I was able to get home safely.
When I saw the lightning strike, I had some options. The two that I would have considered the strongest were to a) forge ahead on the path in front of me until I reached my destination or b) turn tail for Van Buren where I might have been able to find some shelter until the storm could blow over. Obviously, I chose the former.
Here are some of the problems with the Van Buren option: 1) It would have actually been backtracking somewhat and would have placed me farther from my goal (home) 2) There was no guarantee that I would have made it to Van Buren before the storm hit 3) People in Van Buren probably wouldn't look to favorably on a smelly, slightly overweight, thirty-something clad entirely in lycra who thinks that a pickup truck isn't God's gift to transportation 4) The storm was supposed to last the rest of the day and into the night, so there was no guarantee that it would let up enough for me to begin again 5) Having Amy pick me up from a bike ride is to admit failure and should only be reserved for those times when I have run out of options with a flat tire, bent rim or other mechanical failure that makes it impossible to continue.
What does this have to do with anything?
While the Israelites were in captivity in Egypt, they prayed for deliverance. God came through and not only got them out of the land of bondage, but also promised them a destination. When they began to wonder if they would make it to their destination, they began to pine for Egypt. They began to consider turning tail and winding up farther from their destination. I can almost hear them saying, "This is getting too hard. It's too far. Why don't we just head back to Van Buren." They thought about going back to a people that would have been less than receptive after the plagues and the drowning of their army. They would have had no guarantee of a second chance to start off for their destination again. Ultimately, it would have cast God as a failure, unable to do that which He set out to do.
To sum up: when you know your destination, sometimes it’s just best to push through adversity to get there.
I was thinking about ten miles into the twenty five mile ride about a ride I made last year. On that ride, I was going to go about 55-60 miles and knew that I had a window of opportunity early in the day, after which, it was supposed to storm with a pretty good chance of lightning, hail and even a tornado watch. I thought I had a better than even chance of beating it and left the house with a route in mind. As I headed northeast of town, I began to watch dark, menacing clouds in the distant northwest.
Everything was going according to plan as I pushed past 10 miles, 15 miles, 20 miles. As I began to approach the 25 mile point, the realization struck that I was not going to beat the storm home, especially if I finished the full length of the ride I had planned. I formulated a new game plan in my mind. I recognized that the storm front was forming in an arc from dead west of where I was to dead north of where I was and was moving in like a net to catch me. I decided that if I headed back on the route that I had just ridden (west and then south), I would be heading straight for a section that would probably catch me about 20 miles from home. If I headed south instead before turning west, there was a chance that I could beat the worst of it (which seemed to be to the north), leave myself with less miles to ride in the storm, and hopefully get home wet, but otherwise unscathed.
I flew south with as much effort as I could afford and the plan seemed to be working well. About 15 miles to my destination, I reached a section where I had to do about a three mile stretch west before I could head south again and felt, with some confidence, that I would be on my way south again before it got bad. I was about one mile east of my left hand turn to head south when I saw a lightning strike dead in front of me just a few miles off. This strike was huge and I knew that the thunder to follow would simply confirm my visual assessment.
I don't know how etched in your memory the explosion of the Death Star in the original Star Wars trilogy is, but I remember it as a big ball of sparks that grew less and less impressive as more special effect laden movies emerged in the twenty years after the initial Death Star explosion. In the Special Edition movies that they released in 1997 though, the explosion of the Death Star was huge enough to carry with it a visible sonic blast circle that rumbled and carried with it far more impact and reverberation as you felt like you experienced it for 20-30 seconds.
This lightning strike had nothing to do with the Death Star explosion circa 1977 and everything to do with its 1997 progeny. I felt it before I heard it and it continued to rumble and vibrate the air around me for what seemed an eternity. I knew the road I needed next was one mile ahead of me and that there was a chance I could beat the storm front if I had enough power left in the legs.
Now, the wind to this point had been out of the north-northeast (my habit is to start a ride into the wind and let it help me home). I gave everything I had going straight west. About 400 yards before my road, the front hit me. Immediately the wind changed from about 12 mph from almost behind me, to about 30 mph from almost dead in front of me. I went from riding at about 21 mph to 9 mph in a heartbeat and knew that I was in big trouble. This was still early in the year, so dust from the fields began to kick up in my face and I felt the first wet offering of the day's forecast. The temperature dropped about ten degrees and I pushed on until I hit the road south. The wind was now somewhat at my back and I used what little energy I had left and my former enemy now turned ally (the wind) to hammer south away from the brunt of the storm. Rain fell harder and in sharper drops. Before long, small pieces of icy hail were pelting the skin on my legs as I continued on.
Thankfully, the farther south I got, the more it let up and by the time I hit my last stretch into town to the west, all I had to contend with was the cold and rain and I was able to get home safely.
When I saw the lightning strike, I had some options. The two that I would have considered the strongest were to a) forge ahead on the path in front of me until I reached my destination or b) turn tail for Van Buren where I might have been able to find some shelter until the storm could blow over. Obviously, I chose the former.
Here are some of the problems with the Van Buren option: 1) It would have actually been backtracking somewhat and would have placed me farther from my goal (home) 2) There was no guarantee that I would have made it to Van Buren before the storm hit 3) People in Van Buren probably wouldn't look to favorably on a smelly, slightly overweight, thirty-something clad entirely in lycra who thinks that a pickup truck isn't God's gift to transportation 4) The storm was supposed to last the rest of the day and into the night, so there was no guarantee that it would let up enough for me to begin again 5) Having Amy pick me up from a bike ride is to admit failure and should only be reserved for those times when I have run out of options with a flat tire, bent rim or other mechanical failure that makes it impossible to continue.
What does this have to do with anything?
While the Israelites were in captivity in Egypt, they prayed for deliverance. God came through and not only got them out of the land of bondage, but also promised them a destination. When they began to wonder if they would make it to their destination, they began to pine for Egypt. They began to consider turning tail and winding up farther from their destination. I can almost hear them saying, "This is getting too hard. It's too far. Why don't we just head back to Van Buren." They thought about going back to a people that would have been less than receptive after the plagues and the drowning of their army. They would have had no guarantee of a second chance to start off for their destination again. Ultimately, it would have cast God as a failure, unable to do that which He set out to do.
To sum up: when you know your destination, sometimes it’s just best to push through adversity to get there.
Monday, April 04, 2005
They Might Be Giants ABC CD
For all of my 20/30 something friends who are starting to have kids. I bought this for Easter "for my daughter" who is ten months old. This is a great alternative to all of the cheesy kid's CD's that are out there. How often do you hear the words "gyroscopes," "alpacas" and "aforementioned" on a children's CD? Good stuff.
Get ready...
This is part one of three to be written over the next few months. We are in the "get ready" stage of our move from Marion, IN to Sioux Falls, SD. This is the stage where we tell coworkers, friends, ministry volunteers and the church at large about the call that we feel to artists in Sioux Falls.
This is also the stage where we formulate the plan for the next few months as we "get set" and finally "go" and make the move. I really have no idea what the next few months hold. Do we step out our official staff roles right away, do we stay while the church searches for our successors, is there some overlap? I'm really at a point where I just want to do what's best for the church. We will do whatever the Administrative Council decides is the best course of action (we will be talking to them on the 13th).
The reality that I might be serving with some of my friends in ministry for the last time is just beginning to hit home for me. I'm hoping for a game plan that allows us to serve until at least June 1 so that we can celebrate and enjoy each other before we leave, but I recognize that it probably will not be left to me to decide.
In the meantime, I am going to occupy my extra time by looking for jobs, searching real estate listings and getting our house ready to sell (which I would anticipate will go on the market sometime this month). We know that selling our house here is a prerequisite to buying a house in South Dakota and with the housing market being what it is in Marion, it could be awhile before we have a place there that we can call our own.
I've been thankful for Erwin McManus's book "The Barbarian Way" as it continues to give me a boldness and confidence in pursuing the path that we're on. His language is very much like that of John Eldredge in "Wild at Heart" but applied to all Christ followers instead of just the male variety.
Amy, meanwhile, has been reading a biography of Oswald Chambers (author of "My Utmost for His Highest"). She read the other day how Chambers pursued artistic studies out of a desire to reclaim the arts for Christ. It definitely stirred up something within her. I think anytime you hear that you're not the only one with a burden like that it helps you to feel a little more normal.
It's going to be hard to get people to understand that we feel called to minister to artists, because we don't even know what that means right now. My hope is that as we are faithful to place ourselves in the right geography that God will then begin to open doors for the right ministry.
Well, I need to spend some time figuring out how to verbalize things for the first of our opportunities to share what's going on with us to a larger audience. We talk to the Senior Leadership Team tomorrow, staff Thursday, teams and Ad Council next week and the congregation probably on April 17. I need to make sure that what I share is consistent and as complete as I know how to make it. Get ready...
This is also the stage where we formulate the plan for the next few months as we "get set" and finally "go" and make the move. I really have no idea what the next few months hold. Do we step out our official staff roles right away, do we stay while the church searches for our successors, is there some overlap? I'm really at a point where I just want to do what's best for the church. We will do whatever the Administrative Council decides is the best course of action (we will be talking to them on the 13th).
The reality that I might be serving with some of my friends in ministry for the last time is just beginning to hit home for me. I'm hoping for a game plan that allows us to serve until at least June 1 so that we can celebrate and enjoy each other before we leave, but I recognize that it probably will not be left to me to decide.
In the meantime, I am going to occupy my extra time by looking for jobs, searching real estate listings and getting our house ready to sell (which I would anticipate will go on the market sometime this month). We know that selling our house here is a prerequisite to buying a house in South Dakota and with the housing market being what it is in Marion, it could be awhile before we have a place there that we can call our own.
I've been thankful for Erwin McManus's book "The Barbarian Way" as it continues to give me a boldness and confidence in pursuing the path that we're on. His language is very much like that of John Eldredge in "Wild at Heart" but applied to all Christ followers instead of just the male variety.
Amy, meanwhile, has been reading a biography of Oswald Chambers (author of "My Utmost for His Highest"). She read the other day how Chambers pursued artistic studies out of a desire to reclaim the arts for Christ. It definitely stirred up something within her. I think anytime you hear that you're not the only one with a burden like that it helps you to feel a little more normal.
It's going to be hard to get people to understand that we feel called to minister to artists, because we don't even know what that means right now. My hope is that as we are faithful to place ourselves in the right geography that God will then begin to open doors for the right ministry.
Well, I need to spend some time figuring out how to verbalize things for the first of our opportunities to share what's going on with us to a larger audience. We talk to the Senior Leadership Team tomorrow, staff Thursday, teams and Ad Council next week and the congregation probably on April 17. I need to make sure that what I share is consistent and as complete as I know how to make it. Get ready...
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
My Desert
I've been reading a book called "Alternative Worship" by Jonny Baker & Doug Gay which has been a huge boost to my devotional time of late. It is primarily a collection of liturgical and ritual ideas for alternative worship services surrounding Advent, Lent, Easter and Pentecost.
In the Lent section, some of the liturgy and ritual ideas were around a desert theme. They talked about how after Jesus was baptized, he went into the desert before his testing by Satan. The assertion was that Jesus went into the desert to find his identity.
It gave me cause to consider where my "desert" is. Where do I go to find space to hear the "still, small voice" and allow God to reveal who He is and who I am in Him?
This morning I had opportunity to get out on the bike before work. I've been riding for years and hope to log over 2500 miles this year. I had hardly started when I realized that I was in my desert. It's from the saddle of my bike that I am strengthened in body, mind and spirit. It is there that I find space from the distractions of work and home and can clear my mind. It is there that my theology and philosophy is sharpened, reworked and redefined. It is there that my thirst for communion with God is quenched as I drink deeply of His creation and my soul is fed through the bread of His presence.
Since I'm usually out for at least 90 minutes each time, there is more opportunity to pray, listen, respond, worship. My best worship planning has happened on the bike. Many of my most insightful observations about ministry have happened with two wheels beneath me. It is there that He speaks most clearly to me. God has spoken through the veil of haze on an early summer ride to captivate me by the idea that he is "veiled in majesty." He has shown spoken about my ability to withstand temptation as I've sprinted to escape dogs on my route. He has shown me my need for effort and rest and for assessing my hills and headwinds in ministry so that I don't burn out before I've reached the goal.
Today I felt like myself again. It was the first time I'd been on the bike in almost two months and the first morning ride I'd had since October. I had realized that I was itching to ride, but today it was clear that the itch was for God and the place he was waiting meant fighting a 15 mph headwind for part of the way and climbing hills that seared my unconditioned legs. I know that the hills won't hurt so bad when my strength and conditioning come back over the coming weeks. I also know that God will increase the strength of my mind and spirit as I enter the desert.
In the Lent section, some of the liturgy and ritual ideas were around a desert theme. They talked about how after Jesus was baptized, he went into the desert before his testing by Satan. The assertion was that Jesus went into the desert to find his identity.
It gave me cause to consider where my "desert" is. Where do I go to find space to hear the "still, small voice" and allow God to reveal who He is and who I am in Him?
This morning I had opportunity to get out on the bike before work. I've been riding for years and hope to log over 2500 miles this year. I had hardly started when I realized that I was in my desert. It's from the saddle of my bike that I am strengthened in body, mind and spirit. It is there that I find space from the distractions of work and home and can clear my mind. It is there that my theology and philosophy is sharpened, reworked and redefined. It is there that my thirst for communion with God is quenched as I drink deeply of His creation and my soul is fed through the bread of His presence.
Since I'm usually out for at least 90 minutes each time, there is more opportunity to pray, listen, respond, worship. My best worship planning has happened on the bike. Many of my most insightful observations about ministry have happened with two wheels beneath me. It is there that He speaks most clearly to me. God has spoken through the veil of haze on an early summer ride to captivate me by the idea that he is "veiled in majesty." He has shown spoken about my ability to withstand temptation as I've sprinted to escape dogs on my route. He has shown me my need for effort and rest and for assessing my hills and headwinds in ministry so that I don't burn out before I've reached the goal.
Today I felt like myself again. It was the first time I'd been on the bike in almost two months and the first morning ride I'd had since October. I had realized that I was itching to ride, but today it was clear that the itch was for God and the place he was waiting meant fighting a 15 mph headwind for part of the way and climbing hills that seared my unconditioned legs. I know that the hills won't hurt so bad when my strength and conditioning come back over the coming weeks. I also know that God will increase the strength of my mind and spirit as I enter the desert.
Steppin' Out
Long time since I checked in. Our computer went down in mid February, its replacement took about four weeks to get here and I've had a few conferences and Easter to keep me occupied as well. Thankfully, I was able to get back on the bike this morning, so thoughts should be flowing freely that will keep me checking in.
Biggest thing going on right now is that we've made the first steps in making our departure for Sioux Falls official. We'll be communicating with different groups over the next few weeks and plan to be leaving sometime this summer. Still nothing concrete as far as jobs are concerned, but I'll get a little more worked up about that when it's June or July.
I am feeling very much at peace even though I hate to leave. I've already been observing "lasts" (last Easter, last Passover Meal) and have started to anticipate what's going to happen in terms of grieving over the next few months. Our time at Hanfield has shaped and grown us more than any other time in our lives. We have great friends who love us, some of who we may never see again. We have started things that we'll never get to see the fruit of and believe that the best days of ministry for the church will be after we have left.
We've had a few people tell us it's not too late to change our minds, but it's not mine to change. The call becomes more important to me as time goes on and if we were to stay here when we were called to leave, we'd do more harm than good. I believe that we are headed in the right direction and Tim shared with us today that he felt that release in prayer as well recently (just another way that God has confirmed the call).
We're praying to finish well and to help Hanfield by making the transition the best it can possibly be. Ironically, the best season of worship we've had in years has been the last three months. It makes it a little harder to leave, but I'd rather leave with things going well than when things are a mess. I know that God has someone in mind to replace us and I'm hoping that they are listening to His call.
Biggest thing going on right now is that we've made the first steps in making our departure for Sioux Falls official. We'll be communicating with different groups over the next few weeks and plan to be leaving sometime this summer. Still nothing concrete as far as jobs are concerned, but I'll get a little more worked up about that when it's June or July.
I am feeling very much at peace even though I hate to leave. I've already been observing "lasts" (last Easter, last Passover Meal) and have started to anticipate what's going to happen in terms of grieving over the next few months. Our time at Hanfield has shaped and grown us more than any other time in our lives. We have great friends who love us, some of who we may never see again. We have started things that we'll never get to see the fruit of and believe that the best days of ministry for the church will be after we have left.
We've had a few people tell us it's not too late to change our minds, but it's not mine to change. The call becomes more important to me as time goes on and if we were to stay here when we were called to leave, we'd do more harm than good. I believe that we are headed in the right direction and Tim shared with us today that he felt that release in prayer as well recently (just another way that God has confirmed the call).
We're praying to finish well and to help Hanfield by making the transition the best it can possibly be. Ironically, the best season of worship we've had in years has been the last three months. It makes it a little harder to leave, but I'd rather leave with things going well than when things are a mess. I know that God has someone in mind to replace us and I'm hoping that they are listening to His call.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
The Nostalgia of the Now
When "I Love the '80's" hit VH1 awhile back, I thought, "Yeah, I suppose it's about time that we began to revisit the events of my youth in a retrospective, nostalgic way." I enjoyed the series immensely and began to find myself waxing poetic about events that I felt were far enough in the past to join the warm, fuzzy memories of yesteryear.
When VH1 followed up with "I Love the '70's" I though, "How appropriate that the '70's receive the same treatment that the '80's received since most viewers of the '80's series probably remember at least a part of the 70's."
Then a somewhat troubling trend followed that I've been noticing more and more of lately: we began to celebrate the nostalgia of events whose ink is barely dry in newspapers and magazines. While I enjoyed "I love the '90's", I had to wonder whether we really needed to take a fond look back at the years that produced pop culture references that are still in regular use. I started to see it happen more in specials ranking the most influential people of the last century (I believe it was just the century and not the millennium) including the likes of Princess Diana, who did some good things and was a pop culture personality, but to include her on the same list as Albert Einstein...
I started to see it on web polls: "Where does last night's game rank on the list of all time great (insert sport here) games?" How can we be impartial judges of such a question with the final buzzer still ringing in our ears, the adrenaline from a great finish still pumping in our veins and the soda (beer) and chips we ate while watching said game are still working their way through our digestive systems?
VH1, not to be outdone in celebrating "the nostalgia of the now" then began their "Greatest Week Ever" series with a lot of the same personalities from their "I Love the.." series presenting (in the same style as "I Love the...") a nostalgic look back at the past week. Absurd? Yes. They are presenting a retrospective on events that haven't even played out yet, in some cases not giving due process to legal news before presenting what their impressions are as fact. Yes, I realize that bloggers do the same thing at times, but blogs usually allow you to post responses that can keep a dialogue rolling about a topic that gives it a less final feel.
Well, this week brought news of yet another nostalgic absurdity. I pulled the following off of Relevant Magazine's site:
Though only 30 years old, The Aviator star Leonardo DiCaprio received the lifetime achievement award from the Santa Barbara International Film Festival ...
Somehow I think we should wait until after Leo's fourth acting Oscar, second directing Oscar, third marriage, term as president of the Actor's guild and fourth decade in the business before giving him a lifetime achievement award.
If we were to apply similar criteria, other artists to receive lifetime achievement awards from movies and music would include some of the very same people that were featured in "I Love the '70's" and "I Love the 80's" as "remember that guy?" moments.
Peace
When VH1 followed up with "I Love the '70's" I though, "How appropriate that the '70's receive the same treatment that the '80's received since most viewers of the '80's series probably remember at least a part of the 70's."
Then a somewhat troubling trend followed that I've been noticing more and more of lately: we began to celebrate the nostalgia of events whose ink is barely dry in newspapers and magazines. While I enjoyed "I love the '90's", I had to wonder whether we really needed to take a fond look back at the years that produced pop culture references that are still in regular use. I started to see it happen more in specials ranking the most influential people of the last century (I believe it was just the century and not the millennium) including the likes of Princess Diana, who did some good things and was a pop culture personality, but to include her on the same list as Albert Einstein...
I started to see it on web polls: "Where does last night's game rank on the list of all time great (insert sport here) games?" How can we be impartial judges of such a question with the final buzzer still ringing in our ears, the adrenaline from a great finish still pumping in our veins and the soda (beer) and chips we ate while watching said game are still working their way through our digestive systems?
VH1, not to be outdone in celebrating "the nostalgia of the now" then began their "Greatest Week Ever" series with a lot of the same personalities from their "I Love the.." series presenting (in the same style as "I Love the...") a nostalgic look back at the past week. Absurd? Yes. They are presenting a retrospective on events that haven't even played out yet, in some cases not giving due process to legal news before presenting what their impressions are as fact. Yes, I realize that bloggers do the same thing at times, but blogs usually allow you to post responses that can keep a dialogue rolling about a topic that gives it a less final feel.
Well, this week brought news of yet another nostalgic absurdity. I pulled the following off of Relevant Magazine's site:
Though only 30 years old, The Aviator star Leonardo DiCaprio received the lifetime achievement award from the Santa Barbara International Film Festival ...
Somehow I think we should wait until after Leo's fourth acting Oscar, second directing Oscar, third marriage, term as president of the Actor's guild and fourth decade in the business before giving him a lifetime achievement award.
If we were to apply similar criteria, other artists to receive lifetime achievement awards from movies and music would include some of the very same people that were featured in "I Love the '70's" and "I Love the 80's" as "remember that guy?" moments.
Peace
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