Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

The Real "Glee"

So I watched Glee for the first time the other night.  Afterwards I was informed by people who'd know that it wasn't the best episode and probably not a good one to start with. I imagine they're right.  But still - and with all apologies to my "Gleek" friends out there - I'm just not feeling it.  That's okay, though, because you thought I was nuts for getting into Battlestar Galactica, didn't you?  So we're even.

I imagine that a big part of my ambivalence has to do with the fact that I was actually in our school's Glee club.  And in the same way that football players couldn't get into Friday Night Lights or I never found much reason to read the At Home in Mitford series (about a small-town pastor), it's hard to get excited about a fictional situation that bears a striking resemblance to your real life.  You're already "living it," you see, so what's the point?

We actually called ours a "show choir," which I think sounds better than "glee club."  Think of it as a solid choral ensemble meeting Dancing With The Stars.  We worked equally hard to perfect our four-part vocal arrangements as we did the dancing/choreography.  Trust me, it's a lot harder than it sounds.  And it was a big deal in our school, with around 200 kids in three or four ensembles.  "Carolina Spirit" was the top group and involved a significant time commitment.  It was also a pretty well-traveled group.  I'm not talking about the annual appearance at the local mall, either.  Every year we participated in a regional event in Harrisonburg, VA.  There was also a trip to Pasadena, CA my junior year (including a performance at Disneyland), and another one to Chicago my senior year - both national competitions, both in which we placed in the top three.  

All of which looked nothing like what folks see Wednesday nights on Fox.  There was weight training involved - important when the guys were lifting girls in the air and swinging them around (they tend to prefer that you not drop them).  I already mentioned the hours and hours of rehearsals - not just with vocals but with choreography, down to standing in front of a huge mirror to make sure that thirty-some people have their movements perfectly synched.  And unlike the current TV show (at least the little I've seen of it), there was actually harmony with the jocks, and we had some members of the gridiron in our fold.  So there were no purple slushies.

Here, see for yourself - a video of Carolina Spirit doing their thing a few years after my time (okay, more than a few :)

(note: if you're subscribing to this blog via email the video may not show up - so check it out here).

I realize open talk about this sort of thing typically invites some level of ridicule, especially toward the guys.  Go ahead if you must - it's nothing I haven't heard before.  Chuckle at the sequins and stage makeup, at the dancing and the white shoes.  To which I say a heartfelt, "Whatever."  The fact is that I wouldn't trade this time in my life for anything.  I made some of the best friends in my life, many of whom I keep in touch with to this day.  Thanks to this experience the stage is a second home to me rather than a source of anxiety - something that comes in handy doing the music thing these days.  I'm quite at ease in front of groups, which means I'm pretty comfortable behind the pulpit on Sunday mornings (but sorry FPCMA folks - no jazz hands).  And the vocal techniques I acquired in all those years of training have proved invaluable in keeping my singing voice going strong.

So watch "Glee" if that's your thing - I may tune in from time to time.  But forgive me if I don't jump on the bandwagon.  The real thing is a whole lot better.

PS - I know there are a lot of show choir folks out there, including some "Carolina Spirit alum," and I'd love for you to share your stories in the blog comments below.  What are some of your memories?  How has your show choir experience translated to things you do in your adult life?  Let's hear 'em!

Introducing tomorrow's guest blogger - a.k.a., "The Man"

Normally I wouldn't do a full blog post to introduce a guest blogger.  But with my good friend Byron Wade, currently Vice Moderator of the Presbyterian Church (USA), I couldn't resist.  So many good memories....

These days Byron is pastoring in Raleigh NC and spending some time traveling our country in the name of all things Presbyterian.  Along with Bruce Reyes-Chow, PC(USA) Moderator, the two represent a remarkable turn in our denomination to younger leadership.  Since our church is inextricably interconnected, there is great truth to the expression, "Being Presbyterian means never really having to say goodbye." I've had the pleasure of knowing, to various extents, most of this new leadership.  We're in good hands.

Bryon and I spent a year together at the Presbyterian School of Christian Education, which was later federated with Union Theological Seminary, which soon will be changing its name to Union Presbyterian Seminary.  Progress, one hopes.  Back then, PSCE was a two-year graduate school that specialized in preparing those wishing to enter Christian Education or Youth ministry.  Byron was there for a year's study in the midst of his M.Div work; I was entering as a first-year student. 

The two years I spent at PSCE were some of the best of my life, and it pains me to know that others will not have that kind of experience.  I made the best circle of friends I've ever had; and even though we keep in touch loosely in the midst of busy church work and family, I still consider them my closest colleagues.   I had the pleasure of studying alongside some of the best professors - like the late Isabel Rogers, whose student affectionately called "Dr. Izzie" (herself a former moderator, pictured to the right).  She and the rest of the faculty impacted a generation of educators in ways they'll never know.

From the moment I met Byron I knew we'd be good friends.  Byron has a fun-loving, friendly personality; and his smile and laugh are infectious.  I can't remember exactly when it started, but at some point one of us said to the other, You da man!  To which the other responded, No, you da man!  This went back and forth for the whole year - in fact, we're still carrying it on today via phone calls, Facebook messages, Tweets, you name it.  I keep on trying to convince him that being the vice-moderator of a denomination has him most deserving of the title; he, in turn, keeps suggesting otherwise.

Byron was also part of what turned out to be my greatest moment of sports glory, but I'll let him tell that story.  Suffice it has something to do with football, graduate school and albino squirrels.  They do exist, you know - white as a sheet.  Here's an actual picture to prove it:

See, told ya.

Anyway, all of this is a very long-winded way of saying that Byron will be a guest blogger on Thoughts & Musings, more than likely tomorrow.  And a heads-up to FPC Mount Airy folks - Byron will be with us in worship on Worldwide Communion Sunday, October 4th, so make sure you're there.

Feel free to subscribe to Byron's Vice-Moderator blog here, even if you're not lucky enough to be Presbyterian.  Byron has a lot of great insight into matters of the church and faith.  He's also a great guy and I'm grateful to count him as a good friend. 

I'm also grateful to say, without reservation that he is indeed THE MAN. That's it, Byron, sorry.  End of discussion. :-)

Apparently I'm "Dad" now

It happened in the car the other day when I was driving the elder home from swim team practice.  It was around 6:47pm EST.  Mark the time.  It is the moment when my son, from the back seat of the car over my right shoulder, asked me what we were having for dinner that night.  But it wasn't what he asked me but how he asked me that caught me unprepared:

Hey Dad, do you know what's for dinner?

I was getting ready to tell him that Mom was fixing her wonderful spaghetti until time as I experienced it came to a screeching halt:

Dad.

Dad??  What was that?  DAD??

I mumbled the answer to his query but my mind was barely on topic.  It was hopelessly stuck in that moment 15 seconds prior and the noticeable change in nomenclature.

Dad.  Not Daddy, but Dad.

There come many moments in parenthood when you realize that your children are growing up.  When they first really smile at you as an infant and you know it's not the gas.  When they take their first step, say their first word (or something close to one).  When they walk through those school doors for the first time.  For the most part, though, you are semi-prepared for these shifts; so you learn to receive them with grace and thankfulness.

But no one told me about the day I wouldn't be "Daddy" anymore.

It's not like I thought I'd be one forever, of course.  Never pictured my high school graduate giving me a big hug and saying "Thanks Daddy."  Never envisioned his mother and I paying a visit to the family in their new house, our grandkids running around, and him saying "Welcome to our home, Daddy."  I knew the switch was inevitable - just not this soon.  Nowhere near this soon.

I mean, I've been "Daddy" ever since this little fella came into our lives six and a half years ago. Even before he could say a real word he was blabbering it's close derivative: Dada.  That's been my primary identity all these years - but apparently no longer.

And don't try to tell me the two are the same, cause they're not.  "Daddy" is the stuff of skinned knees from falling off the swingset, playing pretend rock band with a broom and pots and wooden spoons, and reading "Guess How Much I Love You" at bedtime.  "Dad" is something else entirely.  "Dad" is all about car keys and allowance and grown-up privileges.  Dad is how you're introduced to your child's significant other when they enter the picture.

Ugh.  When exactly did this happen?  What event precipitated this transformation?  I was chewing on this furiously as the car made its way home.  Maybe it came from school and being there with other kids, most of whom are a few years older than he - maybe he picked it up there?  Maybe from some TV show, perhaps?

And then it occurred to me that the truth of it all is that the kid is growing up.  He'll be seven in September - hard to believe.  We'd been to the dentist earlier that afternoon and he's got four loose teeth.  They were telling me not to freak out when the permanent ones come in and they look huge; adult teeth situated inside the head of a small but fast-growing boy.  He's playing t-ball and is signed up for the swim team.  He's talking about having sleepovers with his best buddy.  He's telling me what songs he wants on his ipod when he gets one (which is not anytime soon, I can assure you).  He's talking about Jesus and God being the same person and the difference is that Jesus "is kind of like a Transformer" - pretty astute theological thinking for a kindergartner, I thought.

My boy is growing up.  And I love it; I really do.  I love how our relationship changes and grows with age, and how we talk about different things now, more in-depth.  I love how we can have a real conversation about death and dying after watching Marley and Me; how he actually offers legitimate gift ideas for Mother's Day, how we can go from simply memorizing the names of the four dudes in U2 to which songs are off which albums and what instruments are played.  I'm not one of those parents who mourns every corner turned as their child moves forward on the path of life.  I'm a sentimental guy, but I'm also a realist; and I feel it's better to celebrate the changes rather than get all bent out of shape over them.

Still, there's something about suddenly being "Dad" that's just freaky.  Could he not have given me a heads-up, perhaps?  Hey, just wanted to let you know - from now on you'll be "Dad" and not "Daddy."  Would that have helped?  Probably not.

I guess there are worse things I could be called.  Never been a fan of "Pops," and "Old Man" is even worse.  There will probably be a time or two in the heat of the moment when I get called some unrepeatable name, so I better be thankful it's not that.

But still: Dad. Sheesh. The boy's growing up on me. They weren't kidding when they said not to blink.

A house divided?.....Pt. 2

You may recall this blog post back in the heat of the election season, about a house here in Mayberry on somewhat opposite ends of the political spectrum.  Literally.  Just to refresh your memory:

That's a McCain/Palin sign on the other side of the sidewalk, if you can't tell.

The blog, which you can read at the link above, was about how this husband and wife (he the Obama supporter, she the McCain fan) were able to acknowledge their political differences in a heated election without losing their cool with each other.  Which, incidentally, I thought was a lesson for us all, as we're well aware that politics is one of two topics that tend to divide people most emphatically (the other, of course, is religion - something I did not broach with this couple ;)

Well now we're past the election season, thank goodness, and on to another "season" known as March Madness.  So when I was driving by this same house yesterday on my way home from church, part of me wasn't all that surprised to find this:

 

Hmm.  I don't know if the Easter Bunny and "Ramses" the UNC mascot are necessarily polar opposites.  Instead I'm going to assume that this isn't an "either-or" thing but a "both-and" - husband and wife together supporting their basketball team, who happens to be playing for a national championship tonight; as well as the furry little fella who brings goodies on Easter morning (peanut butter eggs in my house).  Two worthy causes indeed.

And yeah, you heard me right, Carolina fans.  I, a true Demon Deacon, am in fact rooting for the Tarheels in tonight's game against Michigan State.  Call it the influence of being married to a Carolina grad (true love, I tell ya) and having another one for a brother.  Or the fact that my school has never been much of a tournament team, so around this time every year I have to morph into this nebulous creature called an "ACC fan."  I imagine it's something like kissing your sister, although I don't have a sister so it's hard to know what that's like.  But it sounds just as icky.

So I join with my wife, my brother, my house-divided neighbors (who are probably ready for me to stop taking pictures of their yard) and the rest of Tarheel Nation to say (and don't think this is easy for a Wake Forest fan to do) GO HEELS!

(until next year.  And then the Demon Deacons will kick your collective blue tails, along with everyone else in the Big Dance.  Maybe.)

To Fire or Not to Fire - that is the question

Two sports blog posts in a row - who would've thunk?

In a college football January full of bowls, bowls, bowls and (yet again) dispute about who's number one (I kind of like undefeated Utah, actually) comes this story about a fired football coach.  This, of course, is nothing new - coaches have been getting kicked to the curb as long as teams have been hiring them.  Certainly the advent of big-time college athletics has put even more pressure on athletic directors and the coaches the bring aboard to produce winning teams yesterday.

But the circumstances surrounding Boston College's dismissal of head coach Jeff Jagodzinski are unique indeed.  It has nothing to do with a subpar season - the Eagles actually finished the year with almost ten wins and lost a close bowl game.  Nor did the coach commit some egregious recruiting violation that put the school in danger of some kind of probation.

Nope.  Jagodzinski lost his job because he interviewed for another job.

A little history is in order.  JJ, as he'll now be referred to (hard last name to type) took the top position at BC in 2007 after a stint as offensive coordinator for the NFL Green Bay Packers.  JJ did a pretty good job in his first two years - 11-3 in 2007 and 9-5 this past season.  Things were looking strong for Eagles football.

Then came the head football coach openings that are part and parcel this time of year.  One particular one intrigued JJ - the NFL New York Jets job, where a certain quarterback named Brett Favre now plays (who used to play for the Packers when JJ was there).  The BC coach decided to interview for the opening - not accept a job, just interview. 

And that is when BC Athletics Director Gene DeFilippo pulled an ESPN Lee Corso move and essentially told his football coach, "Not so fast, my friend."  He laid down the ultimatum - you interview for the job and you will be fired.

Wow.  That's "fired" as in terminated, dismissed, no longer the football coach.  And not for a poor season or a recruiting violation, but for the simple act of flying to another city and meeting with another football guy to talk about their need for a head coach. 

I guess there are two perspectives one can have on this.  Perspective #1 says, Hey, this guy has an obligation to Boston College.  It's called a contract, and he signed one to be their head football coach for five years.  That was in 2007 - do the math.  Schools don't go firing their coaches just because there are some others out there they may want to consider (well, it doesn't happen as much as it could).  Likewise, JJ shouldn't be looking for a better opportunity, at least not until after 2011.  And if he chooses to disregard that obligation to his place of employment, then the school has no choice but to end it's obligation to him.  Besides, they've entrusted a lot to him, beginning with an annual salary most people would kill for.

Then there's Perspective #2.  This one says, Listen, sports teams fire their coaches on a whim these days - so coaches have to be extra protective of their careers and think proactively.  If this is a good opportunity for him, who can fault him for at least looking into it?  Besides, reality check - all he's doing is just going to an interview.  This isn't some conspiracy against his current club.  There's no guarantee he'd even get a call-back.  People interview for new jobs all the time in the business world and aren't let go from their current place of employment.  How is this any different?  And finally - it's great that the school wants to take a stand and all, but the guy has guided their club to a 20-8 record in two years.  You really want to kick him to the curb so quickly?

It's not just a sports story, friends.  It's an ethical dilemma!

It appears that the AD has, in fact, followed through on his threat and fired JJ, as of this afternoon.  So now we have a college team looking for it's third head football coach in three years, an NFL club that may or may not hire his latest interview (I wonder if they feel some kind of obligation to him, given what he sacrificed for just an interview - probably not...) and a football coach out of a job with no guarantee of another one.

But still, it makes you think.  I'd be curious to know what your take on it is.  Which side do you tend to lean toward - Perspective 1 or 2?  Or can you see both sides of the coin?  Comment away!

When Sports (and youth) teach us something

I'm a big fan of Sports Illustrated - and it has nothing to do with the swimsuit issue (I've actually opted out of receiving it as part of my subscription).  I'm a big fan of the magazine, first and foremost, because I love sports.  But I also love it because it contains some excellent writing.  You may think I'm kidding, but I'm serious.  It's not just "Carolina defeated Tampa Bay 38-23 in a football game last week."  They tell the story, and the story behind the story.  A lot of character stories as well.  I've actually found that sometimes my sermons are influenced to a degree by the writing of SI.

Last week I received the 2008: Best Sports Year Ever issue - which, probably not so surprisingly, is a synopsis of the year in sports.  It hit the big stories, as well as those that flew somewhat under the radar.  The cover story was certainly an inspiring one - about the pit bulls rescued from Michael Vick's dog kennel and how they are thriving in loving, nurturing environments.  Talk about making lemons out of lemonade.

But the story that really caught my eye was this one on page 51.  It's one of those sports stories you probably would've never heard about because it didn't happen at some place like Boston Garden or Lambeau field.  It happened at a high school track meet in the town of Pasco, Washington back in May.

It was the state 4A track & field championships, and the event was the 3200-meter.  Senior Nicole Cochran convincingly won the race and the state title, until a judge disqualified her for stepping outside the lane on a turn (something that, as a former track guy, is very easy to do).  The problem is that she didn't do it - and she wasn't the only one to realize it.  Andrea Nelson, the girl who crossed the finish line second - the one awarded the state title - knew it too.

Hmm.  I try to put myself in Nelson's shoes with every reason to justify the results.  A state title - that's something.  Those don't come around all that often, you know.  She worked hard for it.  And she may not have truly won it, but it's not her fault that the judge made the wrong call.  Things just happen, right?  Not the way Andrea saw it.  And that is why, after receiving the gold in the medal presentation, she stepped off the platform and walked over to Cochran to put the medal around her neck. 

If the story stopped right there it'd be amazing enough.  But it doesn't.  Because when the girl who had been awarded second place saw what Nelson did, she took off her silver and gave it to her instead.  The bronze winner followed suit, handing it to the one who passed up on the silver.  This chain reaction went all the way through the top eight finishers - each giving their medal to the one who finished ahead of them; all so their rightful owners would be properly recognized.  Feel sorry for senior Lyndy Davis, awarded eighth place but left with nothing as part of the chain reaction?  Don't.  When another runner later got eighth in the 800 meter race, she gave her medal to Davis so "she wouldn't leave empty-handed."  That runner?  None other than Nicole Cochran.

Our society is a hyper-competitive one, and even a sports nut like myself has to acknowledge this.  Look at the gobs of money we throw at our professional athletes, or the way college athletics has morphed into a multi-billion dollar industry.  I used to coach year-round swimming and it was sickening to see how some of the parents treated their kids.  I once had to kick a parent off the pool deck who went all Bobby Knight and threw a folding chair in disgust when their child's swim did not meet to their satisfaction.  That type of behavior is never good for the kid.  Or the chair.

In contrast, thank goodness, there are stories like this one that SI has brought to our attention.  And I like the way writer Phil Taylor concludes: She (Nelson) didn't make the gesture (giving up her 8th place medal) because it was necessary, or to balance out the kindness she had been shown.  Sometimes, an athlete simply does what she knows is right.  Good writing.  And a good story.  Here's hoping us grown-ups will pay attention and strive to do the same.

L to R - Nelson the generous soul; Cochran the rightful winner.  I like the fact that both of them are smiling.

**********************

POSTSCRIPT: Another great sports story: as I'm typing this, I'm watching the International Bowl football game between the University of Buffalo and UConn.  UB is a pretty amazing story this season on a number of levels - one being that this is their first bowl appearance, although not their first bowl invitation.  That would be back in 1958, when the team was invited to play in the Tangerine Bowl.  But their two African-American players were told they couldn't participate in the bowl due to segregation - prompting the team as a whole to decline the bowl invite.  Power to the people!  Fifty years later, here they are in a bowl game.  Go Bulls!

Granite Bears are real - and State Champs, too

I've made it clear in previous blogs that I'm a big football fan.  It's great watching a group of guys come together and take the team concept to new levels.  As a proud Wake Forest grad I enthusiastically cheer for the Demon Deacons on Saturdays in the fall.  Sunday afternoons after church I rush home to turn on the TV and see how my Carolina Panthers are doing.  My Deacs are bowl-bound, and the Panthers are sitting at 10-3 on the season and, hopefully, on the verge of the playoffs.

But I must confess that my true football excitement this fall has revolved around a group of 30 high school guys who, every Friday night, have donned the helmet for Mount Airy High School.  The "Granite Bears," they are called - a nod to the huge granite quarry in our city, supposedly the largest open-face granite quarry in the world.  In recent years the school has fielded some pretty competitive football teams, but this year topped the cake.  Mount Airy went undefeated for the season - 16-0 - and yesterday in Raleigh at Carter-Finley Stadium (where NC State plays) won the 1-A State Championship game, beating Williamston 37-14.

Just about the entire town of Mount Airy made the trip down I-40 to see the game yesterday afternoon.  Alas, I had two music gigs and couldn't make it. I turned on the radio to listen to the game while driving from one gig to another and caught the entire fourth quarter.  It was great to hear the faithful cheering loudly as the game ended.  I smiled and imagined myself there.

Now - it's quite an accomplishment to win a state football championship, but let's face it - every year five teams from North Carolina earn that title (we have five divisions).  There are fifty states in this great country of ours, so that means literally hundreds of teams every year win a state football championship.  But there are many reasons why this team is such a special one, and why my football-loving self has come to claim it as my own.

First, the Bears went undefeated on the way to the championship.  And not only did they not lose a game, but they never trailed in a game (until yesterday).  They also won by huge margins with scores like 55-0, 63-13, and 51-7.  These are actual scores.  And before the cynic in you shows, let it be known that this was not due to running up the score.  Seriously.  The first string hardly saw any second half action the entire season.  Coach Kelly Holder routinely put in second and even third-stringers, and they still played better than the other team's first string.

Which leads to the second reason I enjoy being a Granite Bears fan - and that is that these guys are so talented.  With a team of only 30 players, most if not all of them go on both offense and defense.  This is partly out of necessity, but the fact is that they really are skilled enough to play more than one position.  Sure, there are guys like running back Michael Dobson, who had some 1600 yards rushing for the season and has verbally committed to East Carolina.  But this team is loaded with stars, many who never get heard about.  They're that good.

Ultimately, though, football is just a game.  And even the sports fanatic in me recognizes that there are more important things in life - like, for instance, being a good person.  And that's another reason why I'm a Bears fan.  These guys are good people off the field too.  Two players are church members; and one of them gave a fine sermonette for our Youth Sunday service back in November.  I also have four of them in the Old Testament college class I teach and they are some of my best students.  A few weeks ago our church hosted a pre-game meal in our fellowship hall (most of the churches in town do this), and I came away so impressed with the conduct and general disposition of the team. 

Because our town is small, and because this is the only high school in town, most everybody knows these players.  They've watched them play from Little League on up, they know their families, they sit next to them in church on Sunday.  In many ways the community itself has raised these kids; and that has fostered a strong connection between this team and the community.  All of this is to say that these players and coaches are class-acts, which gives this town even more to be proud of.

God forbid my Deacs falter in their bowl game in a few days, or my Panthers fail to make it to the Super Bowl this year.  But if either of these happens, the 2008 football season won't be for naught.  I'll have the Bears to remember - we all will.  And in a community that's been hit hard by the recession, business struggling and people losing their jobs, this is something we can all get excited about.  Congrats, guys, on a great season, and for representing your school and town so well.  This will stay with us for a while.