As Mormons, people seem surprised that we are not supporters of Mitt Romney. Not that we have anything personal against him. He seems nice enough. We've heard many good things about his father, George Romney, and he did a good job with the Salt Lake Olympics. His health care plan in Massachusetts is widely admired. If a Republican must win, we suppose we would want Mitt to win. He would be infinitely better than someone like Rudy Giuliani (who combines, it seems to us, all of the bad characteristics of Bush and Clinton in one remarkably unattractive package).
Romney's being Mormon does not really affect our choice. We do not believe that Mormons have any special expertise in public policy, nor has it been our experience that Mormons are particularly more moral than other people -- especially when it comes to questions of large-scale social ethics. Plus, we would not usually vote AGAINST anybody because of his religion, so why should we vote FOR somebody because he shares our religion?
More specific reasons:
1. He has been vague about what his policies would actually be, as have most of the candidates. From what we've heard, though, he seems to want to continue most of Bush's policies (just executed more competently). Thus, he seems to want to carry on the Iraq War delusion (his ignorance about Iraq is actually remarkable). He wants to continue the national disgrace known as Guantanamo Bay (in fact, he even said he would "double it," whatever that is supposed to mean). He seems to want to continue Bush's torture regime. He also seems to favor Bush's tax cuts, which have increased income inequality. We disagree with all of this on moral grounds. He wants to get the "family values" vote, but he certainly does not share our values on these issues.
2. He seems like a consummate willing-to-say-anything-to-get-elected politician. All politicians have to do this dance, to some extent. His flip flops, though, seem particularly offensive. It is one thing to change your mind as situations change (i.e., Kerry changing his mind about Iraq). It is quite another to change your mind for purely political purposes. Did Romney really decide only recently that he was troubled by abortion after talking to a cold-hearted stem cell scientist, as he claims? If so, that means his previous thinking about abortion was remarkably shallow. Chait's description of Romney seems right to us: "I see him as a competent, moderate-minded manager who has decided his only chance of being elected is to masquerade as a whacko." Dude, if you have to change your views completely to win a primary election, you are in the wrong political party!
3. A minor note: He seems too concerned with image and style. At Bryan's graduation, he was the commencement speaker. He refused to put on his mortar board because, he said, it would "mess up his hair." And he wasn't joking. He strikes us as too sculpted and too scripted. He has confused his political persona with who he really is.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Big Apple [Ellie]
First, a silly comment about the title. I can think of nothing I would be less likely to compare New York City to than an apple. First of all, I don't really like apples. (I know this is unAmerican. Yada, yada, yada. I just don't like them, ok?) Second of all, apples have this fresh, clean, innocence about them. Fresh, clean, and innocent are just not terms I'd use to describe New York.
And now for my trip.
I had been looking forward to this trip for six months. Four days in The Big City doing big city things without my kids. Just the thought of the trip would send little thrills up and down my spine. Eating without preparing anyone else's food first. Sleeping without first putting anyone else to sleep. Walking through an art museum with my arms swinging free--no diaper bag, no stroller. Young mother heaven! Everyone warned me I would miss my kids. I did, I guess. In a, "Oh, look at those cute kids playing on the subway. My kids would love that," kind of way, though. Not in a "wish they were here" kind of way. I did miss Bryan. I spent a lot of the time I was in The City plotting a way to come again with him by my side.
I "heart" NYC. All the t-shirts said I would. (And it should be mentioned that EVERYONE was wearing those t-shirts in New York.) Just the memory of seeing Phantom of the Opera on Broadway and walking around Times Square at night still makes me giddily happy. It's hard to describe being surrounded by the huge gaudiness of it all--the excitement in the air, the dizzy, flashing colors splashing every building's surface. The music and the chattering masses of people. I loved everything we did--the Cloisters medieval art museum, a castle made from bits of medieval ruins; the Statue of Liberty (stouter than I expected); the "best of" burger and pizza joints we went to (fantastic!); seeing Manhattan Island lit up like a jeweled fairy land from across the East River; tasting my first caviar at the Russian Tea Room (not as bad as I though it would be); rushing through the Met at a breakneck pace (well, I wish we wouldn't have had to rush); riding in a crazy New York cab; traversing Central Park; and alternately swooning, puzzling, and giggling at MOMA's modern art. The City met all my expectations.
Unexpectedly, one of my favorite things about NYC was the subway. There's something about hurtling through a black abyss in a gently rocking cubicle that fascinates me. Add to the surrealness of that the people-watching possibilities. How many places in a suburban landscape can you find a mid-level executive and a drunken, singing homeless man sitting next to each other? Anyone can and does ride the subway. It's such an equalizer.
I loved being in New York City, and I was sad to leave it. I know I'll go again, and I hope it will be soon. But, for the record, I had a Dorothy moment flying back into Columbus, too. I almost clicked my heels together as I noticed, as if for the first time, Ohio's rain-washed greenness dotted with picturesque white farmhouses. Its beauty seemed to point up the City's flaws. It was clean, fresh, and innocent. Like a big apple.
And now for my trip.
I had been looking forward to this trip for six months. Four days in The Big City doing big city things without my kids. Just the thought of the trip would send little thrills up and down my spine. Eating without preparing anyone else's food first. Sleeping without first putting anyone else to sleep. Walking through an art museum with my arms swinging free--no diaper bag, no stroller. Young mother heaven! Everyone warned me I would miss my kids. I did, I guess. In a, "Oh, look at those cute kids playing on the subway. My kids would love that," kind of way, though. Not in a "wish they were here" kind of way. I did miss Bryan. I spent a lot of the time I was in The City plotting a way to come again with him by my side.
I "heart" NYC. All the t-shirts said I would. (And it should be mentioned that EVERYONE was wearing those t-shirts in New York.) Just the memory of seeing Phantom of the Opera on Broadway and walking around Times Square at night still makes me giddily happy. It's hard to describe being surrounded by the huge gaudiness of it all--the excitement in the air, the dizzy, flashing colors splashing every building's surface. The music and the chattering masses of people. I loved everything we did--the Cloisters medieval art museum, a castle made from bits of medieval ruins; the Statue of Liberty (stouter than I expected); the "best of" burger and pizza joints we went to (fantastic!); seeing Manhattan Island lit up like a jeweled fairy land from across the East River; tasting my first caviar at the Russian Tea Room (not as bad as I though it would be); rushing through the Met at a breakneck pace (well, I wish we wouldn't have had to rush); riding in a crazy New York cab; traversing Central Park; and alternately swooning, puzzling, and giggling at MOMA's modern art. The City met all my expectations.
Unexpectedly, one of my favorite things about NYC was the subway. There's something about hurtling through a black abyss in a gently rocking cubicle that fascinates me. Add to the surrealness of that the people-watching possibilities. How many places in a suburban landscape can you find a mid-level executive and a drunken, singing homeless man sitting next to each other? Anyone can and does ride the subway. It's such an equalizer.
I loved being in New York City, and I was sad to leave it. I know I'll go again, and I hope it will be soon. But, for the record, I had a Dorothy moment flying back into Columbus, too. I almost clicked my heels together as I noticed, as if for the first time, Ohio's rain-washed greenness dotted with picturesque white farmhouses. Its beauty seemed to point up the City's flaws. It was clean, fresh, and innocent. Like a big apple.
August Photos [Bryan]
August was a big month for us. We went back to Utah to see my sister Ashlee get married and to see my new nephew Benjamin. Then, Ellie took off (without the kids) to NYC to see her sister Emily. Some highlights of the Utah trip were:
1. Nora got to ride the "Heber Creeper" with Grandma and cousin John.
2. We got to play lots of "Settlers of Catan" with the Warnick clan.
3. We went to the Hill Air Force Base Museum.
4. We spent some time in Provo with Ellie's sister Anna and her husband Spencer.
5. We got to see nephew Benjamin's baby blessing.
6. We went fly fishing in the Uintah Mountains (China Meadows). I caught a 12-inch rainbow, but not much else.
7. I was able to go to Park City and have dinner with my long lost friends, David and Jared. Great food, great company, and great conversations (bow before Barak Obama Chappo, bow!)
8. Ashlee's wedding was beautiful (welcome to the family, Kurt!). We had a terrible time getting there, though, since our car overheated at an extremely bad time (long story).
9. We went to an incredible Thai restaurant in Layton and had our first experience with Tom Ka soup! Yum!
10. We went to the new aquarium they opened in Salt Lake. It wasn't bad. Did you know in the next life I want to be an octopus?
11. My brother Derek and family invited us down for a swimming party at their place. I played Dance Dance Revolution and didn't do too bad.
Some pictures:
Andrew driving around SLC.
Amber and Ruston.
Benjamin Ryan Warnick -- Welcome to the world!
Playing Settlers.
Hill Air Force Base.
Aunt Anna at the SL Temple.
China Meadows. It was a bit cold!
1. Nora got to ride the "Heber Creeper" with Grandma and cousin John.
2. We got to play lots of "Settlers of Catan" with the Warnick clan.
3. We went to the Hill Air Force Base Museum.
4. We spent some time in Provo with Ellie's sister Anna and her husband Spencer.
5. We got to see nephew Benjamin's baby blessing.
6. We went fly fishing in the Uintah Mountains (China Meadows). I caught a 12-inch rainbow, but not much else.
7. I was able to go to Park City and have dinner with my long lost friends, David and Jared. Great food, great company, and great conversations (bow before Barak Obama Chappo, bow!)
8. Ashlee's wedding was beautiful (welcome to the family, Kurt!). We had a terrible time getting there, though, since our car overheated at an extremely bad time (long story).
9. We went to an incredible Thai restaurant in Layton and had our first experience with Tom Ka soup! Yum!
10. We went to the new aquarium they opened in Salt Lake. It wasn't bad. Did you know in the next life I want to be an octopus?
11. My brother Derek and family invited us down for a swimming party at their place. I played Dance Dance Revolution and didn't do too bad.
Some pictures:
Andrew driving around SLC.
Amber and Ruston.
Benjamin Ryan Warnick -- Welcome to the world!
Playing Settlers.
Hill Air Force Base.
Aunt Anna at the SL Temple.
China Meadows. It was a bit cold!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
My tornado story [Bryan]
This all reminds me of my own tornado story. The only tornado I have ever seen was not in the Midwest, but actually in Salt Lake City. I remember when I was growing up, I once asked my Dad once if a tornado would ever strike Salt Lake. He said that, no, tornadoes were impossible because the mountains prevented them from properly forming.
Well, there I was. The day was August 11, 1999 and I was just started working for the Division of Medical Ethics at the University of Utah. I was standing near a bus stop, waiting for a shuttle to take me up to the hospital. As I stood there, I noticed the sky was turning an odd, brilliant turquoise color. I have always loved storms, so I stood there and watched the turmoil going on in the sky above me. The clouds were moving rapidly and I noticed they were starting to move in a circle. I thought they might be forming a tornado, but I heard my Dad's voice saying, "Tornadoes can't happen in Utah." I dismissed the idea, but I continued watching the rotation and I grew excited as it started to descend. Here is a photo of what I saw at that point:
At that point, I remember turning to the guy standing next to me. He was also watching the sky and I exclaimed, rather stupidly, that "Hey, that looks like a tornado." He nodded is agreement. At that point, the shuttle bus came along. Did I stay to watch the only tornado I would probably ever see? No, I didn't. I got on the shuttle and left. But, there was some consolation to this stupid move. I think that during the shuttle ride I might have passed directly under the funnel cloud. I was watching the cloud out of the shuttle window and I noticed we were headed right for it. As we passed under it, I noticed a strong blast of wind. Needless to say, if the tornado had actually touched down, I might not be here to tell the tale.
Another disaster avoided!
Well, there I was. The day was August 11, 1999 and I was just started working for the Division of Medical Ethics at the University of Utah. I was standing near a bus stop, waiting for a shuttle to take me up to the hospital. As I stood there, I noticed the sky was turning an odd, brilliant turquoise color. I have always loved storms, so I stood there and watched the turmoil going on in the sky above me. The clouds were moving rapidly and I noticed they were starting to move in a circle. I thought they might be forming a tornado, but I heard my Dad's voice saying, "Tornadoes can't happen in Utah." I dismissed the idea, but I continued watching the rotation and I grew excited as it started to descend. Here is a photo of what I saw at that point:
At that point, I remember turning to the guy standing next to me. He was also watching the sky and I exclaimed, rather stupidly, that "Hey, that looks like a tornado." He nodded is agreement. At that point, the shuttle bus came along. Did I stay to watch the only tornado I would probably ever see? No, I didn't. I got on the shuttle and left. But, there was some consolation to this stupid move. I think that during the shuttle ride I might have passed directly under the funnel cloud. I was watching the cloud out of the shuttle window and I noticed we were headed right for it. As we passed under it, I noticed a strong blast of wind. Needless to say, if the tornado had actually touched down, I might not be here to tell the tale.
Another disaster avoided!
Me and Tornadoes [Bryan]
Speaking of bad Midwest weather, we had a bunch a funnel clouds the other day. They think a tornado might have touched down about four miles from our house.
When I first moved to the Midwest, I thought tornadoes would be relatively rare events. Not so! We usually get 3 or 4 tornado warnings a summer. Tornadoes have touched down in or near both of the communities where we live.
I think I'm getting used to these lonely, windy wanderers. On the day of the storm, I thought I heard the warning sirens go off. The sirens are not close to us, and we can only hear them faintly. I then went to get something but then quickly forgot about the sirens. I was alone with the kids and we sat there quietly and watched the rain and wind as we ate our dinner. After we finished, I noticed the faint sirens again and turned on the TV. The meteorologists were excitedly talking about all the rotation and funnel clouds that had just passed over my area. Just think: a tornado could have destroyed my house as we sat there eating dinner!
Another disaster avoided!
Helping Hands [Bryan]
Yesterday, I was gone on a 10 hour service project to Northernish Ohio. If you hadn't heard, the Midwest has really been pummeled lately with a lot of severe weather. Perhaps hardest hit were some small towns in Ohio. News reports are here. It was, and remains, a messy situation up there. So I donned the yellow shirt of a "Mormon Helping Hand" and went with a few guys from my Church up to Findlay and Ottawa Ohio (about two hours away).
I was happy to go. I've lately tried to be of better use to humanity -- to serve others and thereby find greater depth and richness in life. This was an opportunity to do that and I was not disappointed. It was an amazing experience. The towns still smell of mildew and debris is everywhere. Many stores are still shut down, even though the water has receded almost completely.
I was worried it would be a waste of time, as many service projects are. We drove to Findlay and were assigned a house to visit. We arrived and an old woman smiled and said, "You're late, I could have used you two days ago." We went back to headquarters for further instructions and were told to drive to nearby Ottawa. "Just follow the highway and it will be obvious where to go," they said. Well, the destruction was obvious, but it took us an hour to find the volunteer headquarters. We had already wasted several hours and I thought we would leave without helping a soul.
Luckily, we got a humbling assignment. We went to a young couple (twenty-ish) whose house had been submerged in three feet of water. The husband was desperately trying to salvage the house but had not made much progress. The whole first floor was destroyed. We spent two hours ripping up floors, dry wall, and furniture. It was something that he could not have done by himself (it would have taken days, I imagine). I got to take out a wall with a sledge hammer! It was good to work and to actually feel like I was doing some good. The next house we were assigned to was equally yucky, at least in the basement. The basement floor was covered with inches of mud and with all manner of unknown guck. We cleaned out the basement, swept up the guck, and moved an enormous 300 lbs water heater up some rickety stairs. Again, a task that could not have been done without our help.
At that point, of course, I was covered in sweat and, well, guck. But it was exhilarating to be of such tangible use to others. I wish other people would flood so I could have more opportunities like this!
(My only concern with this whole endeavor is the yellow T-shirt thing. It seems like we Mormons like to use these opportunities to promote goodwill toward our community -- it is, to put it coarsely, "service projects as Public Relations Opportunities." I'm not sure how I feel about this; I think I might prefer being more anonymous.)
Sunday, August 05, 2007
A Dinnertime Conversation
Scene: Bryan and Ellie discussing some random trivia. Nora asks a question out of the blue.
Nora: What do you think about the bridge incident?
Bryan: The "incident"? I've never heard you use that word before. Where did you learn it?
Nora: What does "incident" mean?
Bryan: It is like an accident...
Nora: An accident?
Ellie: It is like when something happens, usually something bad. You said it right, "bridge incident."
Nora: Incident.
Bryan: So where did you learn that word?
Nora: The News Hours with Jim Leher.
Bryan and Ellie blink is guilty disbelief, worried that a nerd is being born right before their eyes. They continue eating.
Nora: What do you think about the bridge incident?
Bryan: The "incident"? I've never heard you use that word before. Where did you learn it?
Nora: What does "incident" mean?
Bryan: It is like an accident...
Nora: An accident?
Ellie: It is like when something happens, usually something bad. You said it right, "bridge incident."
Nora: Incident.
Bryan: So where did you learn that word?
Nora: The News Hours with Jim Leher.
Bryan and Ellie blink is guilty disbelief, worried that a nerd is being born right before their eyes. They continue eating.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
July Events
We had a fun July. Ellie's parents and sister Emily came to visit us and we spend the month touring around Ohio.
Here are some pictures:
Andrew at our favorite "beach" on Deer Creek Reservoir.
We spent a weekend at Lake Erie. Here we are at the Peace Memorial (3rd tallest monument in the US) which celebrates a U.S. navel victory in the War of 1812. It is on an island called Put-In-Bay, which is a great little resort community. Actually, it is a mix of small town Ohio and resort community.
Here I am on Lake Erie.
On Put-in-Bay you can take a tour of the world's largest geode. It is big enough to fit 35 people inside. Really cool!
Sparklers on the 4th of July. We also went to the Hillard City parade. A fairly unimpressive deal with a bunch of little league baseball teams and local advertising. Fun though.
Nora on the Ferry ride to the island. Kids loved it.
Bryan
Here are some pictures:
Andrew at our favorite "beach" on Deer Creek Reservoir. 
We spent a weekend at Lake Erie. Here we are at the Peace Memorial (3rd tallest monument in the US) which celebrates a U.S. navel victory in the War of 1812. It is on an island called Put-In-Bay, which is a great little resort community. Actually, it is a mix of small town Ohio and resort community.
Here I am on Lake Erie.
On Put-in-Bay you can take a tour of the world's largest geode. It is big enough to fit 35 people inside. Really cool!
Sparklers on the 4th of July. We also went to the Hillard City parade. A fairly unimpressive deal with a bunch of little league baseball teams and local advertising. Fun though.
Nora on the Ferry ride to the island. Kids loved it.Bryan
The Irresistible Revolution
I just finished reading The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical, by Shane Claiborne. It is on of those books that really shakes you up if you let it. I'm trying not to let it. Claiborne is a radical -- a Christian radical -- a Jesus-obsessed man. He has the strange idea that a Christan should take the teachings of the New Testament seriously. When the Jesus says, "Sell everything you have and give it to the poor," Claiborne has the nutty idea that he meant it. Likewise, when the NT says that we will be condemned unless we clothe the naked, feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, and visit those in prison, he thinks these are things we should actually do. I know, crazy. He also believes, get this, that Christians should be perceived as weird and unpopular, and that they should be allies with the strange and unpopular people of the earth (the lepers, as it were). Christians should befriend the homeless, the prostitutes, drug addicts, criminals, the mentally ill -- you know, the smelly, dirty people that we don't like to be seen with. No easy suburban Christianity for him! To top it all off, Clairborne thinks that the NT says something about "loving your enemies" and "doing good to those who hate you." He thinks Christians could end hatred and war through active and unexpected acts of love -- even if it leads to death. The NT surely can't be that naive...can it?
Clairborn's challenge is to those of us who think that it is compatible with Christianity to live lives of comfort and popularity. He thinks that the NT rejects any such compatibility. A Christian cannot live a safe, ordinary life. Christianity involves taking massive risks, giving up personal comfort, and facing poverty and hatred directly. He writes in the beginning, "I wondered what it would be like if we decided to really follow Jesus." His book is an attempt to tell stories about his journey to take the teachings of the NT seriously. He tells of working with Mother Theresa in Calcutta, of living and working in the "slums" of Philadelphia, of traveling to Iraq to help the very people his country was bombing. His teachings are mixed with the authority of lived experience. I'm getting really nervous about all this, now that I think about it.
No problem, I guess I can just give more to charity, maybe increase my LDS "fast offering" a little bit. Well, here is a sample of Claiborne's writing:
Layers of insulation separate the rich and the poor from truly encountering one another. There are the obvious layers like picket fences and SUVs, and there are the more subtle ones like charity. Tithes, tax-exempt donations, and short-term mission trips, while they accomplish some good, can also function as outlets that allow us to appease our consciences and still remain a safe distance from the poor. ...
It is much more comfortable to depersonalize the poor so we don't feel responsible for the catastrophic human failure that results in someone sleeping on the street while people have spare bedrooms in their homes. We can volunteer in a social program or distribute excess food and clothing through organizations and never have to open up our homes, our beds, or our dinner tables. When we go to heaven, we will be separated into those sheep and goats Jesus talks about in Matthew 25 based on how we care for the least among us. I'm just not convinced that Jesus is going to say, "When I was hungry, you gave me a check to the United Way and they fed me," or, "When I was naked, you donated clothes to the Salvation Army and they clothed me." Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He seeks concrete acts of love" "you fed me...you visited me in prison, you welcomed me into your home...you clothed me."...
Rich and poor are kept in separate worlds, and inequality is carefully managed but not dismantled. When the church becomes a place of brokerage rather than an organic community, she ceases to be alive. She ceases to be something we are, the living bride of Christ. The church becomes a distribution center, a place where the poor come to get stuff and the rich come to dump stuff. Both go away satisfied (the rich feel good, the poor get clothed and fed), but no one leaves transformed. ...
Often wealthy folks ask me what they can do for Simple Way. I could ask them for a few thousand dollars, but that would be too easy for both of us. Instead, I ask them to come visit. Writing a check makes us feel good and can fool us into thinking we have loved the poor. Be seeing the squat houses and tent cities and hungry children will transform our lives. Then we will be stirred to imagine an economics of rebirth. ...
Almost every time we talk with affluent folks about God's will to end poverty, someone says, "But didn't Jesus say, 'The poor will always be with you'?"....Far from saying in defeat that we should not worry about the poor, since they will always be among us, Jesus is pointing to the church in her true identity -- she is to live close to those who suffer. The poor will always be among us, because the empire will always produce poor people and they will find a home in the church, a citizenship in the kingdom of God, where the "hungry are filled with good things and the rich sent away empty." I heard that Gandhi, when people asked him if he was a Christian, would often reply "Ask the poor. They will tell you who the Christians are."
Ouch. That gives new meaning to the question "Are Mormons Christians?"
But is it really that hard to be Christian? Claiborne thinks so:
Jesus doesn't exclude rich people; he just lets them know that their rebirth will cost them everything they have. The story is not so much about whether rich folks are welcome as it is about the nature of the kingdom of God, which has an ethic and economy diametrically opposed to that of the world. Rather than accumulating stuff for oneself, followers of Jesus abandon everything, trusting in God alone for providence.
Reading this, you'd think that Claiborne would be a very serious, somber puritan. Not so: he writes about dancing, singing, and laughing. A God who doesn't dance, for him, is not a God he is able to worship. He writes with humor and wit. I can get on board with that sort of theology. But then he ruins it with all this "give everything to the poor" stuff.
Seriously, this is a very challenging book. I don't think Claiborne's book (or theology) is perfect. He seems to ignore moments in the Bible when God seems to glorify in blood, hatred, and division. I also ignore the uncomfortable stories, of course, but if we are really supposed to take scripture so seriously -- dead seriously -- it would be nice to have a reason why we can also ignore such ugly passages. Claiborne also seems to put a lot of stock in pranks, meant to garner attention for his movement. I don't think Jesus was much of a prankster; he was more of a quiet revolutionary. He wasn't about acting to garner attention. Finally, the book sometimes seems to violate the principle of "doing your alms in secret." The line between teaching through experience and self-glorification is a very thin one, and I'm not sure Claiborne walks it perfectly. But then again, I'm not sure I walk it perfectly when I teach either. Finally, Claiborne really emphasizes high-profile, easy to spot types of human suffering, like homelessness. Not all suffering is found in the ghetto, though. The rich lonely woman dying in a comfortable rest home seems also to be in need, and her need may have little to do with the economics of "empire."
Overall, though, this is a dangerous, life-changing book. It is book very similar to Hugh Nibley's Approaching Zion. Stay far away from both of them.
Bryan
Thursday, July 12, 2007
New OSU President
So, OSU has picked a native Utahn, Mormon, bowtie wearing, education professor to be its next president.
Oh wait...
Oh wait...
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Review: Wicked
So, there we were. Ellie wanted to go see the Broadway sensation Wicked for her Mother's Day present. We are not usually Broadway types (unless it is something by Stephen Sondheim), but we were very excited to go. Although I tend to prefer off-broadway type of plays, I guess we like theatre in all its forms. Broadway shows are usually outside of our price range, so this was a special treat.
I didn't know anything about the show before I went. I knew that many other people liked it. In the end, I think Ellie and I both had a wonderful time, but I thought the show was only modestly successful. The music isn't as good as other broadway plays I like, but in some ways it was richer and darker. The "happy ending" at the end seemed forced, as if the normal theatre goer is unable to deal with anything remotely tragic.
However, the play does have something of an edge to it. It basically has a "the masses are asses" type of attitude, showing how average people think and feel what they are told to think and feel. The play, for all its popularity, is really making fun of we who are sitting there watching it. That is to say, the play is mocking you as you watch it. For example, we, the audience, had believed what we were told about the "real story" of the Wizard of Oz. This play seems to suggest that we were fools for thinking so: Understanding does not come so cheaply. There is no one narrative, it says, which so easily reduces to good versus evil, and yet we always like to think in those terms. This play, as in real life, shows that our perceptions of who is good and who is evil is often an illusion that has been consructed for us by others, and we go along happily believing what we are told. The play is in a long line of plays, my favorite of which is Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, which delight in counter narratives and show us how familiar tales can look very different from another perspective. I really like this genre.
Bryan
Some recent photographs
Our blog usually isn't visual, except in rare bursts. Here is another burst.
Here is a picture from Nora's birthday way back in March. She got a cute little cowgirl outfit.
In April, we had our annual Easter Egg hunt. It's fame is growing.
Some good looking fellow in a bowtie.
Another good looking fellow.
In May, we took a trip back to Champaign. We were able to spend some time with our friends, the Cassavaughs, the Ackroyds, the Webbers, and others. It was great to see everybody again.
We've done a lot of hiking lately. First, in Darby Creek Park, not far from our house.
Last week, we had two baby bunnies to come to visit. It was a lot of fun, but they sure pooped a lot!
More hiking. This time, at Ash Cave, about an hour south of us in the beautiful Hocking Hills region of the state.
Ash Cave has a pretty little waterfall that makes a little pool. Here, the family jumps in. Alas, we didn't see the "No Wading" signs until our way out!
Here is a recent picture of Ellie.
Bryan
Here is a picture from Nora's birthday way back in March. She got a cute little cowgirl outfit.
In April, we had our annual Easter Egg hunt. It's fame is growing.
Some good looking fellow in a bowtie.
Another good looking fellow.
In May, we took a trip back to Champaign. We were able to spend some time with our friends, the Cassavaughs, the Ackroyds, the Webbers, and others. It was great to see everybody again.
We've done a lot of hiking lately. First, in Darby Creek Park, not far from our house.
Last week, we had two baby bunnies to come to visit. It was a lot of fun, but they sure pooped a lot!
More hiking. This time, at Ash Cave, about an hour south of us in the beautiful Hocking Hills region of the state.
Ash Cave has a pretty little waterfall that makes a little pool. Here, the family jumps in. Alas, we didn't see the "No Wading" signs until our way out!
Here is a recent picture of Ellie.
Bryan
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
At the grocery store
At the grocery store this evening, there were too many customers and too few cashiers. As I stood in a long line at a self-serve check-out, I casually watched the young Latino family in front of me. The husband and wife were stylishly, though inexpensively, dressed, and had two wide-eyed, well-groomed children. As I waited for them to finish checking out, I heard the following muttered, angrily and plenty audibly, behind me.
"Yeah, look at them. Goin' slow like they got all the time in the world. Pretty easy for them, move to this country, livin' the good life. They just get everything given to them; they don't have to work for it or nuthin'. They got more than somebody who lived here all their life. Got all the time in the world."
These remarks, coming from a black man behind me to his wife, struck me as incredibly ignorant and hostile. Expecting to be likewise lambasted if I took too long to check out when it was my turn, I rushed through my purchases, scanning and bagging haphazardly. I happened to scan my cream cheese twice, but looking at the long line behind me and recognizing my mistake as fairly insignificant, I just kept on going. Behind me, the man's voice spoke again: "Honey, I think you scanned that one too many times, didn't ya?"
Yes, I did, I responded, surprised. But it's a long line. It's ok.
"Come on, honey, tell 'em. They can come and take it off. Do you want me to get someone to come do it for ya?"
No, no. It's ok.
Then he called to a store worker in the next aisle over. "This girl here scanned somethin' one too many times. Can ya come take it off for her?" To me: "Honey, this store got more money than you do. They don't give you nuthin' for free."
True. But, no, no, I said again. Really, it's all right.
As I left, I looked the man in the eyes, smiled, and thanked him for looking out for me. He responded kindly, and I headed home with my twice-paid-for cream cheese.
I'm not sure what struck me so much about this encounter. Was it the jarring experience of hearing one member of a minority group being racist towards another? Was it having my assumptions about someone quickly overturned? Was it seeing someone change from nasty to nice in less than a minute? Anyway, all I can really take away is a naive puzzlement that a person can be almost simultaneously bad and good. I don't know why that seems so strange to me. Aren't I? Aren't we all?
Ellie
"Yeah, look at them. Goin' slow like they got all the time in the world. Pretty easy for them, move to this country, livin' the good life. They just get everything given to them; they don't have to work for it or nuthin'. They got more than somebody who lived here all their life. Got all the time in the world."
These remarks, coming from a black man behind me to his wife, struck me as incredibly ignorant and hostile. Expecting to be likewise lambasted if I took too long to check out when it was my turn, I rushed through my purchases, scanning and bagging haphazardly. I happened to scan my cream cheese twice, but looking at the long line behind me and recognizing my mistake as fairly insignificant, I just kept on going. Behind me, the man's voice spoke again: "Honey, I think you scanned that one too many times, didn't ya?"
Yes, I did, I responded, surprised. But it's a long line. It's ok.
"Come on, honey, tell 'em. They can come and take it off. Do you want me to get someone to come do it for ya?"
No, no. It's ok.
Then he called to a store worker in the next aisle over. "This girl here scanned somethin' one too many times. Can ya come take it off for her?" To me: "Honey, this store got more money than you do. They don't give you nuthin' for free."
True. But, no, no, I said again. Really, it's all right.
As I left, I looked the man in the eyes, smiled, and thanked him for looking out for me. He responded kindly, and I headed home with my twice-paid-for cream cheese.
I'm not sure what struck me so much about this encounter. Was it the jarring experience of hearing one member of a minority group being racist towards another? Was it having my assumptions about someone quickly overturned? Was it seeing someone change from nasty to nice in less than a minute? Anyway, all I can really take away is a naive puzzlement that a person can be almost simultaneously bad and good. I don't know why that seems so strange to me. Aren't I? Aren't we all?
Ellie
Nora and Andrew
Why do we rarely talk about our children on this blog? Isn't that all anybody (by this I mean family) wants to know about?
To remedy our grave errors of the past, here is some current kiddie news.
Nora: Nora is 4 years old. She is still very into princesses, although this obsession has branched out a bit and now includes Polly Pockets and Violet Incredible. Over the past few months her future career choices have been: a science teacher that teaches about whales, an artist, a doctor who doesn't give shots, and the wife of a superhero. (Why not a superhero herself, cum Violet?) She loves to draw, especially castles, caves, ocean creatures, princesses, and roller coasters. If she had her way, we would swim or run through the sprinklers every day. Nora also speaks and sings in fluent "Spanish." (Her version.)
Andrew: Andrew is almost 18 months. He loves anything with wheels or wings. As I have heard described by other moms of sons, he came with built-in sound effects. He doesn't use many words, but he has quite a repertoire of sounds he makes for objects--most notably, VROOM, for any of the above-mentioned beloved moving objects. Andrew also has a penchant for throwing things. He can pitch his sippy cup full of red juice overhand all the way across the kitchen. We are so proud. Andrew makes us laugh (or yell) every day.
What a pleasure it is to have two children. I bask in the joy of it when they play some silly game together and dissolve into helpless giggles. I chant it to myself when just as I step into the shower Andrew pulls Nora's hair and they both scream through the rest of my shower. No doubts here that parenthood is like one of Nora's roller coasters.
Ellie
To remedy our grave errors of the past, here is some current kiddie news.
Nora: Nora is 4 years old. She is still very into princesses, although this obsession has branched out a bit and now includes Polly Pockets and Violet Incredible. Over the past few months her future career choices have been: a science teacher that teaches about whales, an artist, a doctor who doesn't give shots, and the wife of a superhero. (Why not a superhero herself, cum Violet?) She loves to draw, especially castles, caves, ocean creatures, princesses, and roller coasters. If she had her way, we would swim or run through the sprinklers every day. Nora also speaks and sings in fluent "Spanish." (Her version.)
Andrew: Andrew is almost 18 months. He loves anything with wheels or wings. As I have heard described by other moms of sons, he came with built-in sound effects. He doesn't use many words, but he has quite a repertoire of sounds he makes for objects--most notably, VROOM, for any of the above-mentioned beloved moving objects. Andrew also has a penchant for throwing things. He can pitch his sippy cup full of red juice overhand all the way across the kitchen. We are so proud. Andrew makes us laugh (or yell) every day.
What a pleasure it is to have two children. I bask in the joy of it when they play some silly game together and dissolve into helpless giggles. I chant it to myself when just as I step into the shower Andrew pulls Nora's hair and they both scream through the rest of my shower. No doubts here that parenthood is like one of Nora's roller coasters.
Ellie
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