Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

Thirty seconds of gratitude

When I was in middle school, my aunt spent the night at our house in Raleigh in the middle of some travels. She had a friend with her; another woman about her age whose name I can't remember. I do remember that she was nice and had a warm smile, and that she had a really cool Bible.  I know, just what a minister would say, right?  Bear with me.  The Bible was actually in comic book form, thus having immediate appeal to a 12-year old boy.  I "read" nearly half of it that night before going to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, my aunt and her friend had already left to get an early start on the rest of their trip.  But there was one thing of hers that didn't accompany them.  I found the comic book Bible at my place at the kitchen table when I came down for breakfast.  Inside was a long inscription from its former owner.  She talked about how she enjoyed meeting me and how she was pleased with my interest in her comic book Bible.  Which is why she was giving it to me, since her joy at knowing I'd get a lot out of it exceeded any joy she'd have in keeping it.  She wished me the best and said she'd look forward to our paths crossing again someday.

I haven't crossed paths with that woman since - at least not yet.  But the Bible is still with me.  It sits on the shelf in my office, as it did in the office of my previous church, as it will in every office I ever have.  And the thing is, it's not really there because it's a Bible.  It's there to remind me that God's word can be a heartfelt inscription on the inside flap, and that sometimes the greatest gifts come from those who make a conscious choice to express gratitude in the simplest of ways.

I was reminded of that comic book Bible last night when a link to this article showed up in my Twitter feed, about a note left at a ramen restaurant in Austin, TX.  Scrawled on a napkin to not only the waitress but to the entire restaurant, thanking them for the good food and service and the way both provided a much-needed lift in the person's day.  The result of some pretty awesome ramen?  It's possible.  Slightly over-the-top?  You could argue that.   But I think you'd be selling the author short in either case.  Much like my aunt's traveling companion, this person chose to do something they certainly weren't obligated to do: take thirty seconds to express gratitude.

Of course, those thirty seconds could've been used for something entirely different.  Case in point: the infamous "I give God 10% why do you get 18" receipt left at an Applebees restaurant earlier this year.  You can choose not to leave a tip if you so desire (although that's pretty crappy of you if you do).  But why leave a note about it - and why oh why bring God into the mix?  I digress.

There is yet a third option we have with those thirty seconds, and it's one you and I consistently choose nearly all the time: doing nothing.  We're not overly vindictive or thoughtless along the lines of the non-tipping pastor person.  Nor are we exceedingly gracious or reflective like ramen-napkin guy.  We just....are.  So there are no notes, no inscriptions; we simply move along with the course of things. All things being equal, we're not going to do anything extra with that receipt or napkin because it's not that big of a deal to us.  Because we're in a hurry and don't have time to bother with it.  Because it doesn't even register on our radar.  Because doing nothing is safe.

You and I, our inclination in life is to play it safe.  Self-preservation is built into our DNA, and it charts the course of our daily walk and our lifelong journey.  And this isn't a bad thing - it's a big reason why our species has survived as long as it has.

But there's another reason humanity has thrived, and ironically it's because we don't always play it safe.  We have those wonderful moments where we choose to take risks, step outside our comfort zone, chart new courses, veer off-script and write our own ending. And just between you and me, I wish I were better at recognizing those moments when they came around. I wish I were like my aunt's friend, who rather than instinctively pack that comic book Bible in her travel bag like the nights before, chose instead to veer off-script and write something in it and leave it on someone else's kitchen table.  And to think - thirty seconds is all it took. 

I mean, what would happen - what would seriously happen - if we made a point of going out of our way to be gracious to someone else?  Leave a note on a napkin, shoot a quick text to someone, shake a hand and offer a smile.  Something simple; something unexpected and unprovoked.  This is not some kind of "pay it forward" thing.  This isn't about karma or balancing the universe.  This is simply about taking time to express gratitude for no other reason than the expression itself. 

With our actions - or our inaction - we have the potential to enrich the life of another person, or shame that person, or do nothing at all for that person.  All things being equal, which would you prefer to choose?

Chew on that while I take thirty seconds to write a quick note to the coffee house I'm hanging out in right now.

Imagine when...

I was catching a cup of coffee after a presbytery meeting at my favorite coffee house in Winston-Salem, Krankies.  I had my computer with me and was going to work on a sermon, because that's what I'm always doing, and because I tend to do my best sermonizing when coffee is involved.  Anyway, I grabbed my cup of Kenyan and sat down at a table in the corner, and when I looked up at the wall next to me this is what I saw:

It's called an "Imagination Installation," a local movement of sorts in the area; and per its website it's about "harnessing the collective power of our community's dreams."  Which, in case you're wondering, is awesome.  So was this wall - dozens of small lime green signs tacked and taped all over the place, each with the simple title "Imagine When...."at the top,  and lots of space underneath for folks to write whatever.

So the sermon would have to wait awhile, because in truth I was looking at tons of little sermons on the wall of this coffee house, and it's always good when the preacher gets preached too. Here are a few that particularily spoke to me:

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...the word "can't" is lost from the spoken language

...people "make each other right"

...we decide to invest in happiness instead of war and hatred.

...nutritiuous local food is abundantly available everywhere and is preferred

...elected officials work for the good of the people, not for the power of the office

...human beings realize we are stewards of this earth, and no more important than any other living being

...we are not strangers

...there is a woman in the White House!

...we recognize that "the kingdom of God is here" (no waiting required)

..very child can squish mud between his or her toes in a creek

..we dream together to empower each other, rather than live in isolation

...we grow food rather than lawns, and share that food with our community

..we all Iive in the moments like our dogs, cats and horses do.

...our economic system rewards cooperation, collaboration and generosity over competition

...we all realize we are happier the more we give and love others, rather than how much we get and are loved.

...public art is on every corner in downtown Winston-Salem

...we know that life comes from death

...color is a hue that a painter uses to transform the canvas :-)

...the health care system is healed

..all pets have an owner that is loving and caring and a comfortable place to be

...corporations figure out that creativity and innovation comes from liberated, encouraged and respected employees

...children and adults go outside and play every day

...education rewards innovation and creativity more than compliance

...every child comes home at the end of school to a loving family member and a plate of cookies and milk

...each of us life our lives with respect and honor of all living beings

...we all remember that we're one big family

...people have the courage to be themselves

...we all let our authentic selves shine!

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Of course, I got in on the act. Here's the one I did.  If you know me, this should come as no surprise:


You know what I liked most about this excellent use of coffee house wall space? It's "Imagine When," not "Imagine If."  It's only a matter of time, folks.  Let's get busy.

Good cup of coffee

Something important to remember as the rhetoric of a presidential election starts heating up...

Check out Coffee With Jesus HERE.

Our Disney trip, in Tweets

So the family just got back from Disney World.  Maybe you knew we were going.  Maybe you didn't.  If you did know, though, I can assure you it wasn't because of any Facebook status updates or Twitter "tweets" while we were there.  That's because there weren't any.  I was under strict orders to refrain from referring to our trip in the world of social media.  This is probably because my neurotic tendency to do so annoys my wife.  It may also be because of her fear that making reference to our family vacation on Facebook and Twitter lets any yahoo with an internet connection (read: potential burglar) know we are not at our home. I'm going to assume it's a little of both.

So I swore off Facebook and Twitter for a week.  I know some of you think this was a hard thing for me to do.  But seriously - this is Disney World we're talking about!  I went a few times when my brother and I were kids; and the wife and I have been dreaming about letting our own kids in on the fun.  So I really didn't miss Facebook/Twitter at all.  Okay, maybe a little.  But only a little.

Anyway, now that we're back into the groove of life at home, I feel the need to re-engage.  And so I present to you our trip to Walt Disney World in tweets - the good, the better, and the really good.  This is close to what I would've actually tweeted when I was there, if I had been permitted to do so:

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DAY ONE - TRAVEL DAY

Sunday, May 2, 2010, 1:07 pm - the Lindsley family departs for Charlotte airport and Disney World, whoo-hoo!

1:17pm - wife has forgotten our resort passes and itinerary. We go back home to get them.

Younger throws up in the car before we leave Mount Airy. He's prone to car-sickness. His shorts are unsalvageable. We've got extras.

On the plane. I'm sitting with Younger. He is WAY excited. Practically levitating out of his seat! First flight for the boys. Lots of firsts coming this week.

Ah, terra firma! We land in Orlando. Pilot tells us its 90 degrees & humid. I'm loving it already.

On the Disney Magical Express Bus in airport, driver says over PA that you could fit entire Disneyland theme park in Disney World parking lot. Wow.

We arrive at Wilderness Lodge. Unbelievable! Think Robinson Crusoe's tree house on major steroids. Not very Disney, I know, but still...

Love how the staff at Wilderness Lodge (and I imagine all over Disney) are called "cast members"

Our room is like any ordinary hotel room. Except for the Mickey Mouse ears on the bed w/the boys' names stitched in. And the voice mail from Goofy welcoming the first-timers.

I'd really like a beer, but I just can't bring myself to buy one Bud Light for $5.25. ONE.

We take a stroll to check out the place and go back to the room. Lights out at 11:30. The boys don't put up a fight; fatigue has won out over excitement.

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DAY TWO - MAGIC KINGDOM

The Wilderness Lodge lives up to its name - while we were getting ready this morning, a crow flies in our room off the back porch & grabs a bite of pop-tart.

Hello, Magic Kingdom. It's been 30+ years. Good to see you again.

First stop - The Haunted Mansion. Brought back memories. About halfway through Younger sheepishly asks, "is it almost over?"

Space Mountain. Wow. Line wasn't long. Elder rode in front. Both boys did great. I still remember this at 8 years old or so. Thankfully, breakfast is still in our stomachs.

Still see doors marked "Cast Members Only" instead of "Staff."  Walt Disney ingenuity at its finest.

When I was a kid the castle  seemed friggin' huge. You know what? It still does.

Lunch was the most efficient serving of chicken nuggets & fries to hundreds of people at a time that I've ever seen.

WHAT?!? No more Mr. Toad's Wild Ride??? You gotta be kidding me! I feel like I've been cheated out of a childhood memory.

Me to Elder: "Your Mom & I have always wanted to take you guys to Disney World." Elder to me: "Yeah, cause you all are nice that way."

I feel like I've sweated off about ten pounds today. HOT.

Every inch of this park has a specific purpose, mapped out, unwasted. There is no dead space.  Amazing.

Dinner at the Crystal Palace, buffet-style. Spoon cornbread is to die for. Boys got autographs, pics & hugs from Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore & Tigger.

It's 7:50 and we're reserving a spot on Main Street for the parade because everyone else is. Know what time the parade starts? Over an hour from now.

Parade was fun, but not the same as I remember. Oh well. Too wiped out to care. We head back to our boat to the Lodge. Great first day!

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DAY THREE - EPCOT

We start the day with a boat to the Contemporary and then the Monorail to Epcot. Reliving childhood!

Now waiting in a very long line for pics & autographs with Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Goofy & Donald Duck. Worth every second. #characterscore

After Circle Of Life Environmental program, elder turns to me and says, "Everyone should see this." Words of wisdom from a 7-year old.

I've never seen so many parked strollers before. I mean, they're everywhere. There can't be that many kids here, can there?

Lunch at the Coral Reef Restaurant. Some of the best salmon I've ever had. The walls are huge fish tanks. There are sand sharks swimming by. My foot twitches.

Just did Mission: Space. Awesome simulation ride to Mars. Always wanted to be an astronaut.

Beatles cover band in Epcot's England playing "From Me to You." They've got it all down, including the head bop and Paul's left-handed Hofner bass.

The monorail that keeps coming through the park is all decked out with "Tron: Legacy." These folks don't miss a chance to promo a new Disney flick, do they?

All these countries & their great food, & we're eating chicken nuggets at Liberty Inn in America. This is called "Epcot dinner with schoolaged-kids"

Walking back to the Monorail. Great day at Epcot, although I seriously feel like I've walked through all the actual countries.

Pool time at the Lodge! Elder's been talking about the slide since the first night we got here.

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DAY FOUR - HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS

At breakfast there was a "cast member" & all he did was walk around & recognize folks with anniversaries & b-days. Continue to be amazed by people who work here.

Whoa. Wife is actually drinking coffee. She only does this when she's really tired.

Boys are getting ready to fight Darth Maul at Star Wars Jedi training academy. Definitely one of those "live-vicariously-through-your-kids" moments. #seriouslyenvious

I am now the proud parent of two young Jedis, having been properly trained at Hollywood Studio's Star Wars academy. May the force be with them. And us.

"Honey I Shrunk the Kids" playground came very close to turning turned into, "Honey I LOST the kids." Seriously. Scariest attraction by far. Seriously.

An attraction was closed, but rather than have a sign out front there was a real live "cast member" to relay the news. So impressed with the Disney Way.

Love the fact that the random street rock band is totally wireless & has in-ear monitors. And that Younger got to play air guitar w/them.

Lunch today in a makeshift 50's drive-in theater where we eat in classic-style cars entertained by cheesy black & white sci-fi flicks. Freakin' amazing.

Pixar's Block party parade. So incredibly choreographed. And colorful. With trampolines.

American Idol Experience was much enjoyed by Elder. As with so much in life, I'm doing it for the kids.

Another thing I'm amazed about - the way Disney uses sound. Speakers hidden everywhere constantly playing music, transitioning you from one venue to another. Everything is a production.

If there's a gift shop, there must be an attraction nearby. It's a certainty, like gravity.

I like the Narnia movies, but the 10 minutes I spent at the Prince Caspian "journey" are 10 minutes of my life I'll never get back.

Fastpasses freakin' rock. A 100-minute wait for the Toy Story ride becomes just 5.

Dinner at Pizza Planet. Just like the movie. And yes, they have the Claw #ivebeenchosen

Boys are getting their own light sabers made. Both double red. We're in trouble.

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DAY FIVE - ANIMAL KINGDOM

Man. Is it 7am already?

First order of business today at Animal Kingdom - an African safari! Very cool. Two rhinos crossed the road in front of us.

Kali River Rapids ride = my second shower of the day. And we didn't get it half as bad as the two teenage girls in front of us.

Here's another Disney observation - if a real human voice can speak it, like something scripted on a ride, they do. Very little recorded voice.

Looking at a bunch of snakes & other amphibians. After each one, Younger always says "Wow!" Every time.

Here's the hard-core truth: the gift shops are not following the attractions, the gift shops ARE the attractions.

Cutting out of the park a little early. Four solid days are catching up to us.  A short rest and then a character barbecue tonight.

Our first rain of the week. It didn't hit until we were back in our room. Couldn't have planned it better.

Watching a duck swim in the swimming pool while it rains.

Oops. Took the wrong bus to Mickey's BBQ & wound up walking a mile or so in light rain, only to catch another bus #lifeslittleadventures

FINALLY, a beer!  It's included in the meal ;-)

Country Western band was doing well but lost me when they kicked into Kid Rock's "Sweet Home Alabama." Not entirely kid-appropriate. Plus the song sucks.

Character dance. So hilarious seeing parents shove their kids on the dance floor with Mickey. Not sure who's more excited.

Had to go up to the front of the stage b/c Elder wanted to see drummer up close to check out his set. #thatsmyboy

Walked back to the Lodge on a trail that was supposedly lit. It wasn't. Another accidental adventure!

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DAY SIX - MAGIC KINGDOM REVISITED

We begin our last full day at Disney with breakfast at Chef Mickey's in the Contemporary. Tasty buffet. And all the coffee we want.

Autograph & pics with Daisy Duck on our entry to Magic Kingdom completes our characters. Now waiting in ride for Flying Dumbo.

Just went on "It's a Small World." Classic ride. Song is sufficiently drilled in my head now.

We did Splash Mountain again, this time as a family affair. Younger asked me to "hold him tighter" multiple times.

Haunted Mansion again. Love it.

Being the devoted family man, I set off on my own to secure the heralded FastPasses on the other side of the park. Walking around, I feel naked without my family.

Thank you, Walt, for sticking the Mad Tea Party ride in a semi-hidden location. Don't know that my lunch would've survived that.

Tom Sawyer Island is the most un-crowded part of the park. I'm enjoying this.

Wife called an audible & we went to Country Bear Jamboree. I remember bits & pieces of this from way back when. Younger couldn't stop laughing.

Splash Mountain AGAIN! This makes three times. Younger & I are in front row. We'll get soaked!!

Trying to leave park. We are in gift shop hell. We may never get out.

We got out. Nice dinner at the lodge and then a quick swim in the pool. This time Younger went down the water slide. Big deal for him and for Dad.

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DAY SEVEN - HOMEWARD BOUND

Last day! Flight is not until 5pm, so we're gonna hang out at the Lodge. Not sure what we'll do...

Cast members, a.k.a. "staff," are so cordial. Everyone, from hotel to guy picking up trash. They make you wanna be nice. Can someone send Congress down here??

Packing up the raincoat I didn't have to use all week.

With time to kill, we hop on the boat to the Contemporary hotel to check out - you guessed it - a gift shop.

Back at the lodge to......wait some more. Lunch in a bit. Looks like everybody either arrives or leaves on Saturday.

We've successfully killed five hours. Now boarding the bus to the airport.

As we head back home it's weird thinking I've still got eleven weeks left until I really return to the "real world" #sabbatical

Re-entry observation #1: walking around airport w/lots of people feels like Disney World with one exception - not as many people smiling.

Re-entry observation #2: There's a long line at the airport Starbucks. Sure wish I could get a FastPass for this...

Re-entry observation #3: If I see an obvious Disney family in the airport concourse, I feel like I know them, even though I don't.

Re-entry observation #4: Back in Charlotte, I am having to consciously remember how to drive a car.

We arrive home to a laundry room full of smeared cat poo. Takes us an hour to clean it. I have to give the cat a bath. Welcome home!

One last cup of the Good Life

When my family and I moved to Mayberry a little over seven years ago, there were three things I required of the community in order to make it my home: an indoor swimming pool, a good Mexican restaurant, and a coffee shop.  I was just kidding, of course, except that I wasn't.  Coming to this place I took comfort in the fact that two out of three wasn't bad and that I could get by without a place to enjoy my beloved java.  Mercifully, the coffee house gods took pity on me; and within a few months of our arrival a local entrepreneur (and fine Presbyterian, I might add) chose to dedicate a chunk of the first floor of his Main Oak Emporium retail store in the heart of downtown Mount Airy to a brand new coffee shop.  And that is how the Good Life Cafe was born.

The thing is, the Good Life has been so much more than just a place to drink coffee, as it is with most good coffee houses.  It's where my young family would lunch on Fridays, my day off, munching on scrumptious chili and toasted jalapeno pimento cheese (still the best I've ever had).  It gained fame as a live music hotspot; a comfortable home to many an Acoustic Blend and Mediocre Bad Guys show, as well as the place where Abbey Road was brought back to life this past fall.  Every second and fourth Wednesday mornings the window loft area of the Good Life - what we affectionately labeled the "Upper Room" - was home to our church's Bob Chilton Bible study, providing a place for us to meet outside the church walls in the heart of our community.  A few years into its existence the coffee shop introduced this wonderful thing called wireless internet - now as common and prevalent as cell phones but back then a cutting-edge luxury that created quite a buzz in Mayberry-land.  Oh, and it also had some pretty darn good coffee too.  It has been a large part of many of our lives; a staple for our little town.

Which is why I, along with many others, was crushed this past week to learn that the Good Life was shutting its doors.

It's not a total shock, really.  This wasn't the first time that the "GL" had been on shaky ground.  The economy's tough these days, especially for small towns like ours.  And coffee houses are in perhaps one of the more difficult businesses when it comes to making a profit, having to support hefty costs of space and staff by selling a product for just a buck or two at a time.  But each time the Good Life started to take a fall, like a cat it always managed to land on its feet and continue serving the jo.

But not this time - it's closing for good.  And this is a very sad thing, for a lot of folks.  Because in truth it never really was about the coffee, as good as that coffee was.  That may sound strange, but it's true; a well-kept secret with all successful coffee shops.  It's really about the people - the people who work there and the people who happily give it business, and how those groups of people are brought together.  Like Cheers on the iconic sitcom of the 80's and 90's, the Good Life was a place where everybody knew your name.  And even if you didn't know their name, or even recognize them, they still felt like family.

And that's a rarity in our world these days, don't you think?  I mean, we all know the landscape is changing, or has already changed.  I know I can get a much better deal on a book by logging on to Amazon.com and securing the item of my choice with a few clicks of the mouse and a credit card.  I can surf the web and get pretty much anything and everything I'd otherwise find in a mom-and-pop store on Main Street without having to leave the comforts of my living room recliner.

But there's one very important thing that I will never be able to get in this manner - a sense of community.  A sense of associating myself with a group of individuals who share the same town, same space and air that I do.  A sense of feeling that I am part of supporting a local business, one that is owned by a fellow church member or a neighbor down the street.  It never fails - I go into the coffee shop and run into my son's first-grade teacher, and the guy who lap swam two lanes next to me that morning, and the Young Life leader doing his daily study, and the church member whose daughter's wedding I officiated last month.  That's what community is all about - it is rare and it is precious.

The Good Life's demise isn't the only business in early 2010 that's calling it quits - a day or two after this announcement one of our hometown newspapers shut its doors; two days later the owner of a one-of-a-kind train store decided to retire after having tried in vain to sell.  From what I hear there are more similar closings on the way.  And while my head knows that the Good Life really didn't set all those other things in motion like some sort of chain reaction, my heart can't help but feel it happened like that.

I got one last cup of coffee from the Good Life yesterday, it's final day of operation.  I'd just swum a few laps at the pool and needed something to warm me up from the sub-freezing temperatures we've been having around here as of late.  I needed a last "fix," in more ways than one.  I walked in to the familiar sound of the bell that rings when the door is opened, making my way past the retail clothing (which will now take over the Good Life space) to the main counter.  I placed my standard order: house blend, a little room for cream.  The lady on the other side of the counter (who I confess to not knowing as well as I've known many of the others who've stood in her shoes) filled my Good Life travel mug and handed it to me as I passed her a few dollar bills.  Keep the change, I said.  It was such a simple sequence of actions - pour some coffee, hand it to me, take my money, ring it up.  And yet there was a beauty and a grace about it each and every time; one I and many others will sorely miss as we stumble through the Good Life-less days that lie ahead of us.

So what's the moral here?  The obvious one: support your local businesses and restaurants whenever you can, even when you know you could get a better deal somewhere else.  There are people whose livelihoods depend on our choices.  And not only that, they are people we know.  We serve on community boards with them, we sit in church pews next to them, we coach little league soccer with them.  They need and deserve our support.

But perhaps the main lesson in all of this is simply being thankful for those places where community forms and where we are brought together.  For that is precious time, the sacred ground of human life.  For over seven years a whole bunch of us have had the pleasure of encountering this at the Good Life Cafe on Main Street in Mount Airy.  It sucks it won't be there for us anymore, but all those wonderful memories will continue to live on and remind us how something as basic and simple and wonderful as coffee can help create community.  In our segmented, technology-saturated and individualistic world today, that truly is a gift we can take with us long after the "OPEN" sign is turned off for the last time.

Still Thankful

This past week, with the Thanksgiving holiday upon us, someone reminded me of a blog post I made a year ago appropriately titled "Thankful".  I went back and took a look at it and noticed how almost all of the things I was thankful for then are things I'm still thankful for now.  I don't know if this is a sign of a guy who is continually blessed, or a guy who lives a pretty mundane life where nothing changes all that much.  Either way, I'm cool with it.

At the risk of being redundant I thought I'd revisit last year's post.  Any instances that required updating are duly noted in red.  And don't worry, I won't do this every year.  In 2010 I'll treat you to an entirely new and original Thankful post.

Happy Thanksgiving day, folks.  Here's hoping you have much to be thankful for - and, more importantly, that you take time with the ones you love to celebrate those things.

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I am thankful for coffee.  I'm drinking some right now, actually.  I wish to personally thank the individual who thought grinding up some brown beans and pouring hot water over them would taste good.  They were right.

At the moment I'm thankful for Ryan Adams.  Every time I listen to his music I hear something different I didn't pick up before, and I really like that sensation.  I like it because it stands in stark contrast to the sensation I get when I suffer through the repetitiveness of top-40 radio.  Which is something akin to eating those funnel cakes at the fair - it may taste good on the surface, but you know it's just not good for you.  Ryan Adams is kind of like the homemade ice cream - unique and worth the time and money invested.  That's also why I like Wilco, U2, Death Cab for Cutie, Nickel Creek, Radiohead, and others you don't always hear that much and who rarely get the deserved notoriety.  Which is exactly the point.

Last year it was Ryan Adams, this year it's The Avett Brothers. And Sufjan Stevens, especially his Christmas album.

I'm thankful for my boys.  I wish they could somehow know how much I love them, but I don't guess that's possible.  I'm not even sure I know how much.  Every time I look in their eyes I see my past, present and future all rolled into one, along with theirs.  It's a humbling, exhilarating feeling.

Likewise, I'm thankful for my wife.  I remember in my single days hearing folks describe their spouses as their "best friends."  I didn't get it - shouldn't you want your husband or wife to be something more than your "best friend?"  Now, having been married for just over nine years, I get it.  And I'm so glad that I happen to be married to my best friend.

Ten years.

I'm thankful for my parents, my brother, and extended family.  My life has taken all kinds of twists and turns in my 40 years, and it's humbling to know they've been there with me through it all.

Umm........41.

I'm thankful for the church I serve.  Unfortunately, this realization sometimes comes when I'm in conversation with clergy friends and hear their nightmarish situations.  And then I see that I really have it good.  It's a church that wants to go where the spirit leads; a church that genuinely cares for each other, and a church that puts up with (and even supports) my music and teaching ventures.  Most of all, it's a church that lets me be a real person, and that perhaps is the greatest gift they could ever give.

As if I needed any more reasons, my thankfulness for the church has increased ten-fold with their approval of a sabbatical for me next summer.  More on the sabbatical to come...

I'm thankful for the guys I've had the pleasure of making music with - Ken, Jerry, Les, Gary, David and others.  Acoustic Blend is entering its ninth year of existence, and Ken and I never tire of it.  And I'm more than content with being a so-so Mediocre Bad Guy, playing with some of the finest musicians Mount Airy has to offer.

I'm thankful for modern-day prophets like Shane Claiborne, Jim Wallis with Sojourners, Brian McLaren, David Beckmann with Bread for the World, Marcus Borg and many others who hit dummies like me over the head with the agonizingly simple message of the gospel.

I'm thankful for blogging.  I'd been trying for years to find a journaling outlet, but I never could bring myself to don a spiral-ring notebook and pen.  I'm too much of a keyboard guy.  Then I stumbled upon blogging, and that's pretty much been it (oh, and I'm thankful to you for reading it!)

I'm not blogging as much as I used to - it comes and goes in waves. That's okay, I still get a lot out of it.  And still thankful to you for reading!

I'm thankful for things like Facebook and Twitter.  Call me a geek, but they really are wonderful ways to stay connected with folks all over the place.  Where else can I catch up with that girl who lived down the block from me as a kid, and the friend who happens to be moderator of the denomination I serve in, and my old college professor?  The world really isn't as big as we make it out to be sometimes.

I'm thankful for wireless internet.  Free wireless internet specifically.

I'm thankful for the students in my college classes.  For actually showing up, for one thing, at 8:00 in the morning.  And then listening to me lecture for a solid hour.  They ask questions that keep me on my toes, which is exactly what I need.  And they're a lot of fun to be around too.

I'm still thankful for my students, but unfortunately it's no longer in a traditional classroom setting, as all my classes have been moved online. Not my preferred method of teaching, but we make it work.

I'm thankful for our next president.  I know I wanted Jesus, but I'm happy to settle for Obama.  I really do think he's going to bring the change our country so desperately needs.

I still think that.

I'm thankful for a good workout.  These days my goal is three miles jogging and one mile swimming, 2-3 times a week.  It wipes me out, and it's not taking as much off the waistline as it used to, but it still leaves me with a good feeling afterwards.

Something new I'm doing these days - treading water for 30-45 minutes, with weights.  I know it doesn't sound exciting, but it's one heckuva workout.  I've shed some pounds.

I'm thankful that God has never let me stand in the pulpit on Sunday morning with nothing to say.  This is the stuff of nightmares for us ministers, my friends.  I'm not kidding.

I'm thankful for football.  I live vicariously through the guys I watch on TV or read about in the newspaper or Sports Illustrated.  There's something fascinating about the orchestration that goes on between eleven players, all aimed at moving a piece of pigskin down the field; and another eleven orchestrated to stop them.

I'm thankful for that feeling when I drop the Eldest off in the car line at school in the mornings. The teacher opens the door, and I watch him gather his bookbag and any other stuff he's got.  We give each other a high-five.  Every time I tell him I love him and that I'm proud of him.  And I never, ever tire of watching him step out and walk through the school doors and into his big wide world in there.

So we're not doing the car line this year.  Our youngest is in the Pre-K program at the school and we're required to personally take him to his class.  Which means I actually get to take both boys to their classes.  I love this more than the car line. I get to hug 'em as they walk into their room and begin a day in their never-ending, lightning-fast quest that is growing up. 

I thought long and hard about something I could say to them every day, some words of wisdom to impart.  I guess I remember my mom telling me about what her father, a high school principal, used to always say to her and her two sisters: "Apply yourself."  It took a few weeks, but I finally found mine: "Learn stuff."  I like it.  More importantly, they do too.

What makes a town "Mayberry?" (guest blog)

One of the things I love about social media is how you can so easily connect with neat people.  Scott Dickson, the writer of this guest blog, is one of those folks.  His bio is at the end so I won't repeat.  But suffice to say our initial meeting at the Good Life Cafe for a cup of jo and conversation a few weeks ago won't be our last.  Enjoy his thoughts and check out his links.  Thanks Scott!

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Does the name “Arlos Smith” mean anything to you? It didn’t mean anything to me either until I went searching for the person who wrote the song “I Miss Mayberry” for the country music band, Rascal Flatts. Smith eloquently penned the tune that speaks to everyone who loves The Andy Griffith Show and what Mayberry conveys.  Mayberry is much more than a fictional small town in North Carolina. It’s a state of mind and its core belief is the fact that the strain from a fast-paced life is something that only happens in a big city like Raleigh or Charlotte.

Small town living means picnics, church softball games, walks in the park, high school football, Christmas parades, walking to the local coffee shop, doing business downtown and shopping local. In Mayberry you could walk to the bank, the barber shop, the diner, the hotel, the town hall, the drugstore, the sheriff’s office and the grocery store…and each proprietor knew your name and made sure you had a good experience.

The small town way of life is a growing culture and families are gravitating to these communities because of their slow-paced, close-knit lifestyles and the importance of personally knowing their neighbors, their postmaster, the owner of their favorite restaurant and even their elected officials. In small towns across North Carolina, residents are dedicated to their “Mayberry” by keeping their towns clean, visually appealing and friendly. They also ban together to create historical preservation societies and economic development commissions that promote building restorations and local business ownership. Within the actual downtown districts you’ll be hard-pressed to find a national chain, such as a Starbucks or an Olive Garden. 

These days I am hearing more and more that people want a simpler lifestyle. They want to feel safe with letting their kids play in the front yard. They want a front porch with a chair swing and some rocking chairs. They like the fact that they can walk down Main Street and get stopped 12 times by friends and people they care about. My goal has always been to educate Mayberry-seekers on the charm and benevolence these towns have to offer…and the fact that there’s probably one of them fairly close to where they currently live.

These are just a few things that make a town a Mayberry, sitting on the front porch, drinking ice-cold cherry Coke…where everything is black and white. Picking on a six-string, where people pass by and you call them by their first name…watching the clouds roll by.

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Scott Dickson lives in Pfafftown, NC. He is the author of “In Search of Mayberry” and consults with local civic and government organizations regarding historical preservation, tourism and economic development. He is also an internet consultant and creator of Mayberry Town Hall, a social network for Andy Griffith Show fans and Tarheel Trains, a blog about trains in NC. Scott plays the drums in the praise band at Old Town Baptist Church in Winston-Salem, NC and enjoys college sports, trains, reading and spending time with his wife and two children.

To learn more about “In Search of Mayberry”, visit www.insearchofmayberry.com.
Follow “In Search of Mayberry” on Twitter at www.twitter.com/mayberrync.
Join Mayberry Town Hall by visiting www.mayberrytownhall.com.
Tarheel Trains – www.tarheeltrains.com

If grinding your own coffee makes you a coffee snob...

I resisted the urge for a while.  I kind of saw it as a time issue.  And maybe just plain laziness, too.  Why did I need to bother grinding my own coffee, I reasoned, when someone else had already done it for me?  Even bagged it, all nice and convenient-like.

I resisted because in our fast-food society, where one can simply go buy a cup of coffee and leave all the work to someone else, the last thing I needed was to add yet another step in my coffee-making process.  Grinding beans to put in the filter to put in the coffee maker to pour water in to brew coffee to pour in my cup.  And then you have to clean everything too, for crying out loud.  All for a cup of jo.  Is it really worth it?

And then a few weeks ago I broke down and bought some whole bean coffee at a restaurant in town after playing a gig there, and then used some tip money to pick up a grinder on the way home.  The next morning, while fixing waffles for the family, I took the plunge.  It was kind of a guessing game figuring out how many beans to use - I'm still refining that strategy.  And I wasn't sure if I had ground them up enough.  But immediately the kitchen was engulfed with this wonderful rich coffee aroma.  You know that smell you get when you open the ground coffee bag for the very first time?  That was this, except it filled the whole room.  Very nice.  Even my wife, who's not a huge coffee fan, thought so.

Once I ground it up enough - I think - I dumped them into the filter and turned the coffee maker on.  Like Pavlov's dog my mouth started watering at the drip drip and the sound of steam escaping the confines of the water reservoir.  Five minutes later I was lifting a cup of not just freshly-brewed but freshly-ground coffee to my lips.  Hmm.  Not bad.  Not bad at all.  And the thing is, it really does taste different.  I wouldn't call myself a coffee connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination, but I can certainly taste a difference from my normal cup.  It tastes more.....well, more fresh.  I know, real descriptive, isn't it? 

It's great, but here's what I'm now faced with: will I be able to go back?  Will I ever be truly satisfied with just dumping the grounds straight from the bag into the filter - or, heaven forbid, partaking of a cup of coffee I didn't prepare myself?  See, I know myself well enough to know that my expectations have been raised and it'll be hard to settle for anything less.  It's kind of like eating barbecue anywhere outside the city limits of Lexington NC, the self-proclaimed BBQ capital of the world.  It just never quite measures up, you know?  It's also why I have such a hard time listening to commercial radio these days, especially the ones that persist in regurgitating the same top-40 garbage that, with very few exceptions, reflects more marketing hype and studio magic than true musicianship.  Ugh.

I'm almost done with this first cup of coffee and I'm not sure if what I'm hooked to is the refreshing taste that comes from being freshly ground, or the caffeine.  Probably both.  So I do what any reasonably sane person would do.  I go buy another grinder to keep at the office, along with another one-pound bag of whole beans.  This, of course, to go with the Black & Decker spacemaker coffee maker I previously installed - yes, installed - in the shelving unit of my study at the church (see below).  So, you know, I can brew coffee without having to leave the comforts of my office while writing a sermon or making a few phone calls.  I'm just a few feet away from java heaven.

That's all reasonable, isn't it?  You know, I think I'll go have another cup.  Certified Fair Trade and Organic, of course.  In my reusable coffee mug.  Let me find the grinder.  And the beans.  And the filter.  And the water reservoir.  Sigh.  Call me a coffee snob if you must. Then come over sometime and let me brew you some.  I think you'll see what I'm talking about.  I think.

POSTSCRIPT: As part of our church's continuing efforts to "go green," an initiative we began back in February 2008, we are looking into the issues surrounding the kind of coffee we drink as a community of faith - issues like who grew the beans and whether they're getting a fair cut of the profits, and whether rainforests were leveled just so we could enjoy a casual cup of jo.  So we're looking at all eco-friendly and justice-oriented options - everything from Wal-Mart's certified fair-trade brand to Equal Exchange to even a local distributor in our community.  Obviously these options will cost more than what we're paying now, and we know this.  Still, we'd like to find something that doesn't break the bank, especially in these hard economic times.  I'd be interested in hearing if anyone out there has any helpful tips or suggestions - if so, leave a comment below.  Thanks.

Jump on board The Welcome Wagon (Presbyterian minister included)

Ahh.  I'm at Panera Bread in Winston-Salem and am relishing in contentment.  For some reason I feel so at home in this type of setting - the combination of coffee, laptop, wireless internet, itunes, earphones.  There are lots of people here and they're moving about and talking; but even the group of elderly ladies right across from me discussing in loud voices their recent health ailments (in great detail, I might add) doesn't bother me.  In fact, if anything the constant motion helps me focus.  Go figure.

So I tend to get a lot of things done.  Just put the finishing touches on the first draft of Sunday's sermon and am prepping for a couple of meetings with church elders who work just around the corner from here.  In the meantime I'm listening to an album that I think you should know about.  Good music, and an interesting back story to go with it.  The Welcome Wagon, they are called.  They are the husband and wife team of Vito and Monique Aiuto.  Technically the Reverend Vito Aiuto, to be exact.  And he's not just any pastor, either.  A Presbyterian minister.  Now you understand my interest!

I first learned about The Welcome Wagon from Paste Magazine via a gift subscription from friend and fellow Mayberry musician Jerry Chapman.  Incidentally, I'd highly recommend Paste to any music fans out there - a wonderful way to keep in touch with what's happening in all aspects of music, film, books, etc.  Each issue comes with a CD sampler of the latest indie music; the kind of good stuff you won't hear on the radio.  Well worth the subscription.

Back to the music.  The Aiutos started singing together in the privacy of their living room with no ambitions of it going outisde those four walls.  They had a particular drawing to old church hymns, and they made use of a hymn book with lyrics and guitar chords.  The "problem" (if you want to call it that) is that neither of them had any real musical training, so they couldn't read the notes.  While normally this would be a hindrance - not knowing the hymn's melody - it wasn't for them.  They just made up their own.

Somehow this couple got hooked up with singer/songwriter Sufjan Stevens, an eclectic musician in his own right.  The end result is Welcome to the Welcome Wagon, which the Aiutos performed (along with some others) and Stevens produced and arranged.  The result is intriguing to say the least.  On one level the music is simple enough that it's easy to imagine you're sitting in the Aiuto's living room listening to them sing some simple hymns.  There's nothing fancy about either Vito's guitar skills or their vocals - it's all pretty straightforward.

But then there's this entirely different dimension to the album's tracks which is undoubtedly Stevens' influence - the brass section, the honky-tonk piano, the slide guitar, the percussion, and the group of people singing (I hesitate to call it a choir because they don't really sing in parts and they literally sound like a group of people lounging around on couches singing along).

So it's this odd mix of simple and dynamic that makes for an incredibly intriguing sound. Take the album's opening track, Up on a Mountain.  It begins with a simple acoustic lick, followed by Monique's vocals.  There's a little bit of piano in there as well, but nothing that jumps out at you.  And then the second chorus rolls around and you're introduced to that group-of-people singing a counter-melody, followed by these wonderful ascending/descending guitar arpeggios that seem to cascade down from the heavens and back up.  What comes next?  Why, trombone, of course; what would you expect?  Best listened to with headphones on.  And you're hooked.

The rest of the tracks don't deviate much from this format, but each song still has its own unique flavor.  There's even a Smith's tune thrown in for good measure (Half a Person, if you're wondering).  And by the time you finish listening to Deep Were His Wounds at the end of the album, you realize that what you've just heard is not as much the product of a duo as it is a trio.  I don't know if Stevens actually plays on the tracks, but his influence is so intertwined with the songs' arrangements and production that it's hard to imagine them without it.  It's actually pretty cool when that sort of thing happens.

You don't have to like old hymns to appreciate the musicality of this record.  Or Presbyterian ministers, for that matter.  But it doesn't hurt.  You can find The Welcome Wagon on itunes or emusic.com.  Give it a listen and see if it's your thing.  I'm betting that after a few times around you'll conclude that it is.

Signs of a Mayberry Christmas, Pt. 3

Remember this?  A classic Christmas movie.  A Christmas Story came out in 1983, the year I was a high school freshman.  Somehow I totally missed this movie.  It took my wife to introduce it to me during our first Christmas together.  We watched it and I lamented the 16 years it had gone unnoticed in my life. 

The story follows the saga of young Ralphie Parker and his family living somewhere in Northern Indiana, with the Christmas season approaching.  Ralphie's Christmas wish list is only one item long: an "official Red Rider Carbine-Action Two-Hundred- Shot Range Model Air Rifle" (you have to say it real fast to get the full effect).  Throughout the movie Ralphie's efforts seem to be for naught, as everyone from his parents to the shopping mall Santa responds with disdain, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!" 

This is the overarching story, but the movie is full of various little montages along the way - all of which are downright hilarious.  There's the kid who gets his tongue stuck to the frozen flag pole, the boys' trip to see Santa at the mall, Ralphie's "O Fudge" moment, the fight scene....there are just so many of them.  Basically you need to rent it or watch it on cable TV (usually TBS shows it non-stop on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so you'll certainly have the opportunity).

One of the classic moments of the film takes place when Ralphie's Dad, otherwise known as "the old man," receives a "major award" in the mail from some contest he won.  Watch:

Ah, the leg lamp.  The old man goes nuts over it.  Obviously Ralphie's mom is less than thrilled but is either in shock or doesn't want to rain on her husband's parade, or both.  The kids are just dumbfounded, and there's no telling what's running through their minds.  Then the whole neighborhood is brought in on it as well, all of which makes for a great scene.

So what does all of this have to do with Mount Airy and the signs of a Mayberry Christmas?  Well....

See, there's this neat little house on Main Street in Mount Airy - a cute two-story traditional with the front porch all the way across.  The house is just a few blocks up from where the family and I watched the Christmas parade a week ago.  It belongs to some friends of ours - the lady works in the Main Oak Emporium, which houses our favorite coffee house, the Good Life Cafe.  The husband and wife are known for decorating their house to the hilt for the particular season, especially Halloween.  You gotta appreciate people who understand that living in such a visible location means keeping the many passersby duly entertained.

As you can see, the house is in full Christmas mode - wreaths on the door and banister, illuminated present porch art.....and say, what's that in the window on the left?  Looks familiar.  Let's get a closer look, shall we?

Well, whadya know!  The leg lamp from A Christmas Story, on Main St. in Mount Airy.  It's lit about every evening at dusk, and they usually turn it off no later than 9pm, given that they tend to hit the sack on the early side.  But for a good three hours or so, this little bit of holiday cinematic wonder shines forth for all Mayberry to see.

I wonder how many other small towns across America have a leg lamp shining forth from their Main Street?  I bet not many.

Incidentally, if you're thinking about adding one of these to your collection, I'd do what the old man didn't do and check with the wife first.  Then go here.

As the old man said, "Oh boy, oh boy - would you look at that?! It reminds me of the fourth of July!"  Not sure what he meant by that, but it doesn't really matter.  That movie scene makes me smile every time I see it and helps get me a little more into the seasonal spirit.  And so does the infamous leg lap in the window of the house on Main St. in good ol' Mayberry.  The Parker family would be proud.  Not quite sure what Barney would think.