Flos Carmeli

June 29, 2008

San Antonio

Traveling for work again. Arrived in San Antonio today. After checking in to conference, went to Rosario's for lunch--highly recommended if you're stopping by San Antonio. After lunch went on the mission trail--Concepcion, San José, San Juan, and San Francisco del Espada. This last is most interesting. Within the mission Church there is a stature of San Francisco (supposedly Assisi) dressed in wildly inappropriate golden garments and looking a lot like someone from China, with something that looks like a black lace halo on his head. In addition, the Saint is standing on a skull. The name means something like Saint Francis of the Sword. (The del Espada may refer to the patronage of a family that helped to build the mission.)

San Antonio is a wonderful, bright, friendly city. There isn't all that much to do within the city and so it becomes a perfect place for relaxation amidst some beautiful scenery.

Once I return home and have some of my other devices, I'll try to post some pictures of these wonder missions.

Dinner at Rudy's (of course)--absolutely no atmosphere whatsoever, but the really excellent food more than makes up for it.

Tomorrow perhaps more.

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March 26, 2008

Boston

Enjoying a trip to Boston. Arrived at 1:30 or so at the hotel and by 2:00 was out heading for the common and walking the freedom trail. Oh and now my feet are paying for it. Before going to the green, however, I stopped in to pick up the next major read after the truly exquisite Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana. Next up: Henry James's Portrait of a Lady. The version I got, an inexpensive paperback, unfortunately reproduces the New York Edition. I would prefer to read it unredacted, but beggars can't be choosers.

Walked from the Common to Breed's Hill and back, taking in all the sites and the smells of Boston. (The North End at dinner time--I can't begin to tell you about THAT olfactory experience.) Had Curried Pineapple Shrimp for dinner and may enjoy a dessert in my room--I don't really know yet.

Among the many marvels I have seen (some for the second time)--the grave of "Hester Prynne," the grave of John Winthrop, the Graves of John Hancock, Benjamin Franklin's Parents, Samuel Sewall, Paul Revere Mother Goose (yes, THAT Mother Goose), Samuel Adams and the victims of the Boston Massacre. Saw the North Church tower belfry arch from both sides of the water and reveled in the magnificent surroundings near Breed's ("Bunker") Hill.

I hope the business trip will allow for a little more time to see Quincy Massachusetts. If so, I will have visited houses and/or offices of the first six presidents of the United States. I find that unbelievably cool!

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March 17, 2008

No Coincidence-More Faulknerian Ruminations

Synchronicty, not coincidence.

Reading The Sound and the Fury and what should transpire other than a trip to Boston. Why is this remarkable? Well, I can't really tell you straight out without giving away much of the book; however, suffice to say that one of the main characters has something critical and large happen to him in Boston.

So, reading The Sound and the Fury during Holy Week when it occurs during Holy Week, and visiting Boston, the site of one of the main events of the book. Wow! What a tremendous experience.

I have more to share on this. But now a delightful little tidbit. Arrived in Boston, walked down to the commons, stopped in a small used book shop near Emerson College and happened to pick up a first edition of The Collected Short Stories of William Faulkner for less than it would cost me to pick up a paperback edition. Oh, how wonderful to be back in a city where literacy is valued, perhaps even treasured.

One last point--the soaps and lotions and shampoos in this hotel are all verbena-scented. I have to come to the chilly late-winter north to smell "The Odor of Verbena." If the significance of that is not clear, google the phrase in quotation marks.

May God bless all who read this during this Holy Week. Indeed, may He bless anyone who reads this every--so few are my readers, I can afford to cast my blessings far abroad.

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March 10, 2008

Shopping Anecdote

Yesterday I went out shopping for clothes--a chore that I consider far more onerous than cleaning out gutters, but hélas, I cannot ask my wife to do so because my entire wardrobe would be red. (I'm told that I look good in red--which would be remarkable considering I don't look good in anything at all--I don't know why red would improve on nature.)

Anyway, we went into this trendy urban department store place. You know the kind, patchwork shorts and oodles of orange or fuschia or this season's color, whatever it may be. Walking in past the cosmetics counter we were greeted by this woman whose hair reminded me of the Gary Oldham do in The Fifth Element but was shaggier. The bangs were like a shiny black paint and the hair on the sides looked kind of matte black. The overall effect was such that I thought, "Woman, you really need to do somehting with that hair." Then I realized, much to my horror, that she had already done something with it and this was the result!

Ah fashion, I'll never get it.

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February 6, 2008

NYC

Spent yesterday getting to Queens, NYC.

Got here and the person I was to meet on business was already here. He called shortly thereafter and we got together and walked down the street to have some dim sum for lunch.

After a brief afternoon business meeting, one of our other colleagues drove us into the city. Dropped us off near the Natural History Museum. From that venue we walked to 42nd street via Columbus Circle, took the subway to the village and wandered around until we got hungry. Overall, a really excellent way to spend the evening. The person I was with was a New York native and was really able to show me some of the amazing sights of NYC. I am very grateful.

Back this evening, hopefully to continue update tomorrow. Right now-- 5:45, off to the first meeting of the day.

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January 23, 2008

Jury Duty Today

So, depending on how it goes, there may be a lot of opportunity for posting. If so, I have a number of things I wanted to share from my reading of As I Lay Dying--some humor, some observations in the hope that a better acquainted reader might help some fundamental understandings.

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November 9, 2007

St. Augustine, the City

Spent some time yesterday visiting a Carmelite Community in St. Augustine. That was a wonderful experience. They meet in a house near the Mission of Nombre de Dios the site of which was where the first Mass was offered in the United States in 1565. In addition, the shrine of Our Lady of La Leche is there as well, and a number of other interesting buildings and memorials.

But overall, St. Augustine is a sad little city. It has a beautiful, small historical district, that is so overrun by commercial interests that it is hard to identify anything at all historical about the place. You walk by houses that are hundreds of years old and discover that they've been converted to sales areas for new age relics or bikinis or lingerie.

The Castillo de San Marcos, as a National Park site, is well maintained, well kept (as much as a building almost four hundred years old composed of local coquina can be. It marks a high point of any visit to the city. It overlooks Mantanzas bay and the Bridge of Lions which is under reconstruction now. But as for the rest, it's hard to believe that you're walking through an area of any great vintage--the concerns and the obvious plights--homeless, drug-addled, just plain vicious, are so evident and so numerous, that one is left with the sad recognition that this most historic of cities is in desperate need of God's mercy and help. It was more than a little sad.

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November 5, 2007

What Is Home?

I have a curious experience every time I go to Virginia. If I'm driving, I count the states Northward on my journey as steps back into time (even though, technically speaking, I live in the state with the oldest continuously populated city in the Continental United States.) I note other things as well--the way Florida flora only gradually is replaced by more northern species so the net effect is that Georgia and South Carolina are more like Florida, and North Carolina and Virginia like more temperate states. I also note how drab (in comparison only) North Carolina is. It probably isn't drab at all, and that is part of my point. When I cross the border between NC and VA, no matter where it is that I cross it, the heavens open up and a choir of angels sings and light becomes light.

In short, for reasons I can't begin to fathom, Virginia is home. I wasn't born there, I did spend ten formative years there, but so did I in New York, Columbus, Ohio, and other places. Virginia has no claim geographically, chronologically, or otherwise to being home. And yet, it is.

I love Florida. If I can't live in Virginia, Florida is a fine second place, there is no other place I've lived outside of Virginia that I would return to. But Virginia is home. As much as I dislike some aspects of it--winter cold and D.C. traffic, and a certain surliness amongst people who are supposed to help you and a dampening (in the Northern Part of the state) of the tradition of Southern Hospitality and courtesy--still and all, Virginia is home. When I have to leave, it is deeply wrenching--worse, in some ways, than leaving family and friends. l

This time we drove throught a part of Virginia that wasn't even intimately familiar. My home was Northern Virginia and I was acquainted with most of Virginia down through tidewater. This time I drove up through Roanoke and the valley and ridge region. The autumn colors were magnificent. We stopped at natural bridge and the sense of home even there was profound. Even the rocks, folded, tilted, occasionally deformed by the processes that raised the Appalachians, even the rocks spoke of home and reminded me that I belonged in some deep, indeed unfathonable, way.

Have any of the rest of you had similar sorts of experiences with places? Have you happened upon any explanation of the phenomenon (outside of the concept of reincarnation, which I'm not particularly interested in considering at the present time)? I'd love to hear if this is a shared experience or merely the peculiarity of one individual.

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July 29, 2007

Austin Trip

Will be spending about a week in Austin starting today. Business trip, so there won't be much time for seeing the sites (but I've been often enough that it isn't much of an issue). However, this time I'd like to make a trip out to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Research Center.

I'm not a fan of Johnson and his presidency. I don't much care for Lyndon and his brand of Texas politics, that strike me as being up there with Huey Long and his Louisiana group; however, I've always admired Lady Bird. First, she put up with Lyndon and stood by him for all those years, but second, she was a prominent figure who didn't spend her time being purposely prominent. And what time she was in the public eye, she used to advance the cause of a return to natural beauty before that was the mantra of the mindless pantheist. A return to natural beauty is important for the restoration of balance within us as well. The wildflower research center is one of those endeavors that promotes the good of Earth without pushing it in your face. I know that even the parking lots of the hotels that I stayed in in Texas were filled with Bluebonnets and dozens of other gorgeous wildflowers. And I think it is due in large part to her influence.

As the great lady passed away just a short while ago, I'd like to make this small trip to honor her work and memory and to see some of the marvels of Texas. Hope I'm not disappoint because of the unseasonably heavy rains they've been experiencing.

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May 2, 2007

Goodform

Please e-mail me. The address I have on file does not work any more.

Thanks.

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May 1, 2007

Desk Set

It is, perhaps, a sad state of affairs when I am reduced to describing my environment at work, and yet it is a sort of paean. In a matter of days I shall relocate in my building and not take all of this marvelous stuff. More than that, it amuses me to do so this morning, and there is the side benefit that I am writing.

I have the walls of my office environment plastered with imagery of some of my favorite things. But right now, I'm going to focus attention on the wall I most often see, let's call it "the calendar" wall. On it there are four different calendars, two showing dates, two outdated, but with favorite imagery, so hung so that the date does not show. Between these phalanxes of calendars is a reproduction of an 18th century map of St. Augustine.

The two calendars nearest me are "live." And I actually wrote this for the one I will describe in a moment. The second calendar in line is my annual "Surfing" or "Waves" calendar. It is surfing this year, and since surfing involves waves, the focus is, of course the water. The month of May shows a huge wave, looks bigger than pipeline, smaller than Waimea, with a surfer "in flight" out of the curl behind him. Gorgeous.

The first calendar, the jewel in the crown, was a Christmas gift from Samuel. It's called "Nuns Having Fun" and features black and white pictures of Nuns in recreational activities. Last month had nuns in traditional habits with those sort of large "winged" hats--six of them--crammed into a small car traveling somewhere with the caption--"Okay, so who forgot the St. Christopher statue." This month is equally delightful, a young nun on a rope and wood plank swing at the forward height of arc. It's caption, of course, "Nearer, my God, to Thee."

There is something innocent, charming, and ultimately elevating about these simple pictures. When I'm feeling a little down at work, I look at this calendar and it is an immediate perk-up.

The other two calendars are from favorite venues. One is a Mount Vernon calendar, this month showing a view of the windows in the great hall--banquet/guest area. The other is a calendar of views from Williamsburg showing a small house with brick chimney and some gorgeous flowers in the front garden.

Which, in this rambling, stream of consciousness post, reminds me that were it not for the need for focusing on Samuel's dance classes, we would be traveling shortly to Jamestown for the four-hundredth anniversary of the landing of the Susan B. Constant on what was to become known as Jamestown Island. This even occurs on Samuel's Birthday and the Queen shall be there to celebrate. All of which is made so much more meaningful to me by the fact that I have been able to find three ancestors in that original colony (actually probably from the secondary landings, I've been too lazy to really research it), one of those ancestors was the famous John Rolfe himself.

Ah well, have rambled enough. Hope I can ramble my way into something sensible next time.

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February 14, 2007

A New Metric

The old miles/gallon metric on the efficiency of automobiles has not proven satisfactory to me in analyzing how my present vehicle is serving me. So I've thought of a "new" metric that in the face of rising gas prices makes more sense to me--miles/dollar (Or in the case of ultra-inefficient vehicles dollars/mile).

In this new metric my present vehicle delivers on the order of 24-25 miles/dollar. A comparison--my old vehicle delivered approximately 8-9 miles/dollar. A significant improvement.

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February 4, 2007

All Is Well

I apologize.

I've been so frantic about friends that I've not posted myself. After checking with all and sundry in my region, I find that everyone has reported in okay. In Orlando we were hardly touched at all--as is common with these kinds of things. The main event took place about thirty or forty miles north of the city proper near an area called The Villages.

Thanks to all who have written. Prayers are solicited for those who did not fare so well.

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December 5, 2006

Yesterday, My Birthday

So we went to the Magic Kingdom and saw the revamped Pirates of the Carribean featuring Jack Sparrow at least three times, Barbossa once, and Davy Jones in that new mist-projection technology. Also while there discovered that they'd done a complete revamp of "It's a small world," new paint, some new animatronics, etc. It's a favorite of Linda's and after I'd finished with a few things (Haunted Mansion, Pirates) we did requests.

Afterwards went home and got ready to go out and see an abbreviated Messiah in a very small theatre. Of course it was wonderful because we were practically sitting in the musician's laps. I've seen on performance of the complete Messiah and found it a trifle much for one sitting at the time. We had Samuel with us and while he enjoyed it, he said, "Not as much as the Operas, but it was good." Interesting--an eight-year-old Critic.

May not post much today, but thought this might be of some interest.

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November 15, 2006

Carnival of the Animals

Two incidents from Ordinary Orlando Life.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

As I set out for work this morning I pulled up to the traffic light that marks the exit to my community. Across the street I saw an animal that was momentarily obscured by traffic and then I saw it again--an enormous black cockerel.

Now, I don't live in farmland--all my life I've been a true suburban boy. But here I am looking at an enormous chicken crossing the road. And with all my bad brain, I thought about the possibilities. Was someone, against all association rules, raising chickens in their back yards? Was this a family pet (also prohibited by association rules)? Or more darkly, was this perhaps an escapee from a house where Santeria is practiced. (Living here in Florida it is not beyond the realm of possibility. In fact, while we're a little north for it, I'd say that it certainly is a possibility.)

See You Later Alligator

Same day, fifteen or so minutes later, I'm pulling into the parking garage at work and the radio announcer comes on with a bulletin. "For the first time in more than a hundred years an alligator has been found in Lake Eola." Well, you might wonder, so what?

Lake Eola is a largish fountain/lake that is smack-dab in the middle of downtown Orlando. There isn't much in the way of alligator nurseries anywhere nearby, so to find an alligator in the Lake suggests that this guy had a little ways to go to plop himself in the middle of Orlando's showplace, theater, center of city.

Of course, when the convention center was being built not more than a few blocks from where I work, they pulled a huge gator--17 or 19 feet out of the swamp they were clearing. So it just goes to show you can't keep a good gator. . . well, seems you can't keep it anywhere at all because it's just going to go.

One related anecdote. When we were at KSC (Kennedy Space Center) we were tooling around on the tour and the bus driver pointed out these peculiar outward sloping chain link fences. He noted that these were built this way because gators could climb a straight fence and too many employees had come out to their cars at night to find that a gator had taken residence under their cars. (KSC is on Merritt Island with is a National Wildlife refuge.)

I think Saint-Saëns included chickens, but I don't think alligators were part of his carnival. So we've added one.

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September 1, 2006

Anniversary

Today marks 22 years!

As I said to someone yesterday, sometimes it seems like 5, sometimes like 50, but always worth it.

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August 3, 2006

You Know Things Are Bad When. . .

I don't know what it was about yesterday.

On the way home I was stopped at a traffic light where there was a woman claiming to be a homeless veteran holding up a sign asking for money. It was a gorgeous day, even if 95-96 degrees and I was driving, as usual, with my windows down. (I live in Florida so I can ENJOY the weather, not hide from it--if I wanted it to be 76 year-round I'd move to San Diego.) I didn't have any money--nothing smaller than a fifty in my wallet or in my car and I didn't do what I usually do in such circumstance--roll up my window. (I need to remember to carry a stock of small bills for just this kind of thing--problem is if I carry small denominations I just fritter the money away.)

I must have been looking sheepish/guilty and/or tired/weary. (How's that--three word pairs in a row? To quote a one-time hero, "I meant to do that.") She said to me, "Honey, you got to smile--it just cain't be that bad."

That did, in fact, make me smile. She continued collecting money, and I must have returned to whatever ruminations I was in because she was back and said. 'Come on, smile. What's that pink ball doing on your antenna?" (We have a pink Minnie Mouse/Cinderella's Castle ornament on the antenna--Linda's Idea--used to be stars and stripes Mickey.) And of course the silliness of the antenna bob made me smile again along with embarrassment at being offered encouragement by one who certainly had no reason to be encouraged, God love her.

So I got a lesson on smiling and wonder what it was I must have looked like to that woman on the corner. What a wonderful, humbling experience--to get a lesson on life from one who lives much closer to the bone.

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July 26, 2006

Habemus Canem and The Eye

My Latin is dreadful; however, my new dog is wonderful. A stray found by another, named Lucky (Sam has decided to keep the name), a delightful and sweet companion. A bit of a shock going from alone to caring for a baby. But that's okay. Linda and Sam back soon.

later this evening: The Eye another Korean suspense film. Heard it was licensed by Tom Cruise and associates to be made into another dreadful American rehash. Let's see what they're hashing up.

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July 5, 2006

Another pristine stretch of sand, arcing out between Naples and Fort Myers. From this beach Fort Myers and Sanibel are clearly visible. Even more clearly visible, our friend Limulus polyphemus, sand dollars, coconuts, and clouds. An osprey's nest, roseate spoonbills and Scissortail Kites.

From this beach a long spit of shallow beach leads out into the channel. Walking there it is only knee deep, but in the waters two huge fish--sea bass or groupers--suggest that other large, less friendly fish might also find their way between the spit and the beach.

Walking back, a live whelk, and six or seven species of sea-bird. All on this lonely, lovely island.

And a gift from the sea

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July 4, 2006

Proud to Be an American

A great egret--distinguishable sometimes by the size and with some certainty in the adults by having black feet as opposed to yellow feet for the Snowy Egret--struts his stuff in the back-island wash. Beautiful birds, intent on their courses, unconcerned about their intersection with humanity because they can end the conversation with a single flight.

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Door into Everywhere

There are places, quiet places ringed around with time. Still standing, still. Quiet backwaters of places that are hidden just out of sight. A thousand cars pass before even one person notices a cream-colored building and says, "What do you suppose that is?"

And what that is opens the door to the past where those who made the buildings and peace that surrounds live still, working, living, loving, moving forward, carrying on their shoulders the quiet they have built--building a barrier so that the highway does not intrude even when one stands close.

The still pool that is the Koreshan Unity with its Planetary House, its rectiliniator, and its Fort-Myers-beach triumph which showed the world how turned in upon itself it was--how really very closed the universe is calms and cools. Inviting the weary traveler to "jest set a spell" and see what time has fashioned.

And looking into the house where the Planetary Court ruled, serene, matronly, ordering all things in the community and directing its work, its recreation, its contribution to the world at large--a door into everywhere opening in a field--opening up the treasures of the past and quieting the dread of the day. The gift of peace and slow silence. The still of the night in the brightness of day. The slow bell tolls to call to dinner and each ring moves out to be quickly muffled in the vast green and in the buildings still standing, still breathing the past and distilling it into the present. The still of time, the door into everywhere.

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Tigertail Beach

South of Marco Island, the coast of Florida sheers off, like unraveling satin, with threads of islands that form a myriad of inlets, rivulets, aits, and channels overarched by the ever present white and red mangrove saplings. The water can be dyed tea-brown by the leaves of these mangroves, and the slender bean-like seeds wash up on the shores of many of the southern beaches.

Long endangered, to these waters have returned small numbers of the American Salt Water Crocodile, the least aggressive, most reclusive members of the crocodile family. Among the intertwined branches of the canopy one finds the nesting sites of the brown pelican. And in the shallows between the islands, anhingas, herons, egrets, woodstorks, and many other kinds of birds. Facing oceanward, some beaches accumulate the fine white sands that the currents bring, and these are, in turn, populated by waving lines of sea oats and other dune grasses that anchor the islands in place.

Standing on the shore of this beach, on the inlet behind the barrier, and looking east one can see the high rise resorts that bring visitors and their money to Marco Island. Behind these towers the puffy, inimitably beautiful clouds of the Florida sky, tinged with grey as if booding over this coastline.

Pass through the shallow channel and climb over the barrier island, following the path made by many feet--the single path--to find the ocean, ice-green, strangely translucent in comparison to the tannic waters of the mangrove swamp. In these shallows, shells of whelks, conchs, clams, snails, schools of fish smaller than tadpoles flash and turn as one.

The gentle waves lap as though the shore bordered a lake rather than the ocean. The water is warm and cool. Light dancing surface-ice green waters are transformed to fathomless depths with the passing of the clouds.

This is the envoie. Beyond this the ocean to the west, and to the south, the accumulation of that tattered fabric that is the coast of Florida, lovely, fragile, changeable, glorious--as different each moment as only time and tide can be.

Nursery to the young of birds, fish, shrimp, and sea turtle, the estuary that is the wealth of the sea, here exposed to the ancient rhythms of the sea and adjusting to the newer rhythms of human life. Holding breath, in anticipation of the worst, or in hope for the best--whatever the cause--breathlessly beautiful.

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June 25, 2006

Sacramento

Two weeks from today I will be flying out to Sacramento for a business trip before a portion of the California governmental bureaucracy. I'm not thrilled with the prospect. But as with all of my business trips, I have tried to plan to arrive the day before the action in enough time to allow me to acquire a small taste of the town as it were. So, I'll arrive on Sunday afternoon, about 2:00 I think and I'll have from the time I check-in until the time I retire to tour, meet-and-greet, get dinner, etc.

Are there are suggestions from those of you closer to the place as to what one might want to try to take in of Sacramento on a Sunday afternoon? There is a possibility that some time may be free on the other days of the trip as well, so don't exclude things that might be seen during the week. Also, if you life in the area and would like to meet, drop me a line and I we can see what can be planned.

If God is willing and in a merciful mood, this will be my only trip out there under such circumstances--as such, it is likely to be my only trip to the lovely capitol. So I'd be most pleased to hear any "must sees," "must dos," or "must eats." Thanks.

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May 2, 2006

Things You Probably Don't Care About--A Conversion Story

I wrote what follows to someone who had asked me to talk a bit about my faith journey. I don't know if it will serve much purpose for all here, but it may give some insight into the oddities you find from time to time. And it needs supplementation both anteriorly and posteriorly--which may happen in time.

I think I may have told you that I was raised Baptist up to a certain age when my parents stopped going to Church. They may have stopped going, but I longed to go. I continued to believe in God. In the woods behind the houses in our Neighborhood there was a Church. I often thought about sneaking out of the house on a Sunday morning and going there--but I never did so. I don't know why--perhaps because I considered my own parent's lack of activity in the matter an indication of how life was to be. I often wonder what might have happened if I had expressed this hidden interest. Unfortunately I did not.

I have several other things I could tell you about the earliest period, but I suspect it is the secondary period you are more interested in. When I started to go to college, I had a freedom to explore that was not possible to me at home. Curiously, unlike those around me, my freedom took the form of exploring faith and options in faith. I lived, at that time, near the city of Washington D.C., and the diversity around me was astounding. I started by going to a Methodist Church. The first time I went I found it locked and I thought that was rather odd, but it was what it was and I eventually spoke to the pastor. Mysteriously, the locked door of the church said to me enough about the view of faith that I determined not to go there again. It seemed to me that one should never be locked away from God. In my naive conception of faith and God, I equated the building, in some ways, with the presence of God. Obviously, there is some truth to this, but not the substantive truth of the reality of God. Nevertheless, I look back upon this episode and see in it the working of the Holy Spirit. This was not the place to which I was called.

About this time I began to look at Buddhism as a possibility. It had a certain appeal both from point of view of exotic and that it was "always" open. One needn't go to a temple to pray (and so I found it was for Christianity and other faiths as well.) My chief difficulty with Buddhism is that everything depended upon me, and I am so weak and so disinclined to act upon anything myself that I knew if samadhi and nirvana depended upon my own efforts, I simply would never make it there. Nevertheless, I learned some important things from Buddhism; things that stay with me to this day and aid from time to time in prayer.

Next I looked at Judaism. I had always loved the Jewish people because I was raised in my early school-years in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood. From my earliest years I remember marking the year with the High Holy Days in September and October, the Passover in the spring, Purim, and other holidays. Because I am the way I am, I had determined that were I to become Jewish nothing less than strict orthodoxy would suffice. There is no point in going half-way to the stars. You end up in the middle of nowhere. If I were to observe the faith, it would be the faith of Abraham and the fathers in its fullness to the best of my ability to live it out.

Once again, it simply proved too difficult. I could not manage it myself. The halacha, to which I was introduced by a very kind Rabbi as a sort of preliminary was made up of 617 separate and individual regulations which were to be observed in their fullness. The difficulty with this is that those individual laws were amplified, explained and examined in literally hundreds and hundreds of tractates and midrash. In addition, much of the instruction required learning a new language. So despite the beauty and magnificence of the old Faith, I was simply not cut out for observing it. Once again, in retrospect, I see this as the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

I dabbled for a while in other things. I dropped by a Hindu temple a few times. And while the art and ceremony were intriguing, I simply didn't get it. I couldn't understand where everything was coming from.

Finally, I wound up meeting for a while with a group of Baha'i. I loved them dearly. Their home-church was a magnificent thing. In addition, the foods they ate after a fast were wonderful--dolmades, and couscous-like stuff, stuffed dates and fresh figs, baklava, and all sorts of good things (in the initial writing of this I forgot hummus, tabbouleh, and baba ganoush). And I liked the syncretism of the faith--all revelations are true and equal. But as I explored it more, while all faiths were true and equal, it repeatedly came to me that this was not, in fact, what they lived. If all were true and equal, then there would be no need to live the Baha'i way. It turns out that in this true and equal, some are more equal than others; and the Baha'i, which recognized the validity of all, was in fact, higher than all the rest, the final revelation, adding to what the Prophet had had revealed to him.

Thus endeth part one and if popular acclaim requires it, it may be continued. Don't count on it though.

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April 19, 2006

The Momentous Event: TSO

Monday I took a half-day off from work and drove over to the Space Coast with Linda and Samuel to spend a little time at KSC and the Astronaut Hall of Fame before meeting TSO and his lovely ladywife for dinner.

KSC and the Hall of Fame were, as usual, a revelation. Sam had a great time, going on the G simulator and the Mission to Mars rover, as well as meeting a real Space Shuttle Commander and Pilot.

We met at a very popular local eatery in Titusville called Dixie Crossroads. After wrangling with the menu and letting Sam spill over for a while the waitress came to take the order. Once she had described the differences between red shrimp, white shrimp, boat-run shrimp, and rock shrimp, everyone was set and knew what they wanted. Although one of us changed his mind frequently.

During and after these comestibles preparation proceedings, Linda took on the usual duty of the female spouse in this particular matrimonial situation, building the bridges of cordiality which her somewhat more reclusive spouse would normally cross. In this particular case, it wasn't at all necessary for her spouse, but it paved the way to a lovely evening.

I have given up trying to imagine what the various people on blogs look like. There is no conceivable way to do so absent a picture, and very often the picture are most deceiving.

The meeting was, as with all blogging meetings, a most delightful occasion. TSO and his lovely wife are delightful dinner companions, and we much regretted the end of dinner which meant our departure. Linda said over and over again how much she had enjoyed the occasion and had wished for a prolongation thereof. But alas, being unfamiliar with the surroundings, we could not come up with a place to retire to that might provide for such and with a little one in tow, it made for other difficulties (such as prolapsed bed times any way.)

As readers of this blog are aware TSO is among my very favorite blog-authors--he comes frequently mentioned. Meeting him in person, far from being a disappointment, was in fact an even greater delight. And so, as with each blogger I have met, reading the blog will now come with the enhanced pleasure of knowing the person behind the pixels.

At this point I've been able to meet with several bloggers and blog-associates--Tom of Disputations, Fr. Jim of Dappled things, The not-too-present Kathy of the late lamented Gospel Minefield, Therese of occasional visit to comment boxes, Peony of Pansy and Peony fame, the Summa Mamas, Julie D., and now TSO. I had a near miss with Dylan on a visit to Boston a few years back.

And my next major appearance will probably be in Sacramento this summer. I think there is a blogger or two in the area, but I'm a bit uncertain as to the geography and location of the two I think of most prominently in that part of California.

Curiously, although we live in the same city and even occasionally attend the same Church, I've yet to meet Mr. Luse. And I missed out on a meeting about two years ago with the redoubtable Alicia of Fructus Ventris.

Meeting favorite bloggers is a wonderful way to spend time when one is far from home without resources. The first opportunity to meet with TSO evaporated from a trip to his homeland due to complications from Hurricane Charlie--it's a very long story. So this oft-delayed meeting was a much-anticipated event and a delight in every way.

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February 27, 2006

Naples, FL

I probably shouldn't write this seeing as I don't want any more people going down to Naples and driving up the real estate prices, but here I go. Naples has become for me a destination of sorts. During the winter season one of my relatives from Ohio lives down there and a very good friend puts my whole family up for our stay. We've stayed with him twice, and so far as I can discern, he doesn't seem to be too disoriented by our stays. (A couple days with Samuel, especially when you're used to living alone, can be something of a trial.)

I love Naples because of all the interesting things nearby--first and foremost--the ocean. I have always loved the ocean, and down near Naples, it begins to have that turquoise cast that is really predominant in the Keys, and perhaps much of the Caribbean. But also within easy reach of Naples are two different "swamps"--Corkscrew Swamp (which as an Audobon preserve is nearly perfect with a lengthy boardwalk and a fine interpretative center; and the Everglades. There are places of historical interest close-by and lots of shopping and other recreation.

This weekend I spent four days in this demi-paradise. It was a bit chilly, getting down to sixty at night and peaking at, perhaps, 80 for the entire time. Also, the ocean water temp (which is really important) was only about 69-70. We went to the beach twice and had lunch with the relative I mentioned after visiting the residence.

Any way, just wanted to say a word or two about my absence and to reiterate how much I wish I were there right now. With the building of Ave Maria (the official groundbreaking of which was just last week) much will, undoubtedly, change. Those who live near college towns will know what I mean when I say, not necessarily for the better. But it will bring new life and new attention to the town and I expect that there will be many fine educational offerings. Although, there will always be the swamp-buggy competition and the "ferries" to Key West.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 3:57 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

February 23, 2006

Adoption Day!

Today we celebrate adoption day by going to the beach and visiting with some friends and perhaps a relative or two, if we can get hold of them.

Please remember us in your prayers today.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:09 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

December 23, 2005

Floor Show at Johnny Rockets

And other events seasonal and otherwise.

Lunch today--we were out shopping for a couple of last-minute things. A new Johnny Rockets had opened in this center. We like the retro feel and the food is DEFINITELY the comfort-food variety. We decided to stop in.

Well, there it is--like juke-box controllers in each of the booths, waiters in aprons and little soldier-like hats. One of the few places you can get a cherry coke that is a real cherry coke, etc. You all know the attraction or detraction (depending on how you view it).

But absolutely unique to this one--or a new corporate initiative--every now and again, either in cue with certain songs or at regularly intervals, the wait-staff, the managers, and everyone who is not cooking or handling customers breaks into a dance routine. While I was there it happened twice--once to Aretha Franklin's "R-E-S-P-E-C-T," and once to Donna Summers's "The Last Dance." And you know, I have to admit, it raised a real smile on my face. There was such an obvious enjoyment in the staff and in the patrons. And of course Sam was bouncing along to the music and asked to join the entire wait-staff.

On another event--last Sunday hauled our bodies down to what passes for a downtown here in our sunny city to see the Rockettes. The last time I recall doing this I was about Sam's age and I saw them at Radio City Music Hall along with the premier of "Bedknobs and Broomsticks." That was quite a trek from where we lived at the time.

And, I'm pleased to say, that even the touring show was quite wonderful--everything you may have heard rumored about the act and more. Slow motion falling soldiers and regimented "step-step-kick-step-kick-step" to quote Roger DeBris. A very nice, pardon the pun, kickoff to the upcoming season.

And to all of my visitors, I hope and pray for something that will raise a smile on your faces today and remind you of the event we are about to celebrate. May the excitement in the air enter your hearts and transform the way you look at the world.

Merry Christmas--a bit early, but who knows when I will return?

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December 6, 2005

The Marvels of Technology

The birthday celebration continued last night with the first official "Christmas" activity of the season. We went to the MGM studios and saw the annual Christmas display--yes, complete with Nativity for the Disney nay-sayers among you--and even Christmas Carols that mention God and all sorts of stuff. (You'd be surprised at how much God shows up in Disney Parks around Christmas time--oh yes, it's still largely secular, but Disney is business savvy enough to know not to offend it largely Disney-neutral pro-religion clientele.)

Afterwards, we raced to the other side of the park to see one of the nighttime shows which we have not seen ever before. This was one of the marvels of technology. In the course of this show I'd seen things I had never seen before--for example, movies projected on the back side of a fan-like spray of water. I wasn't sure if I was seeing them on the reverse side of a CO2 cloud or water, but then determined that for the consistency of image and appearance, it had to be on a fine fan-like mist.

The show was amazing and fun and capped off a fine evening of enjoyment. Boy thought it splendid and scary, and Linda, a bit winded from our cross-park sprint, said that it was worth it.

You know, there are so many things to thank God for. Yes, even these moments of levity, these light entertainments. No, they aren't the end-all be-all of life, but they add highlights to it. They remind us of things beyond ourselves and put us squarely in God's courts again in a pleasant and hopeful way. There is too much of the daily grind that seems directed toward wearing down any possibility of hope, any fragment, wisp, or trace of trust. These things do not reestablish trust or hope necessarily, but they are small gifts, tokens along the way--one way the Father says, "I love you." And they are one way we can understand that message in the churn of daily life.

God is where you look for Him, in every situation, in every place, in every moment. Indeed, because He dwells within us, He is present to us always. We need merely take the opportunities to be present to Him and thank Him for the many graces and blessings that come to us because of Him.

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December 5, 2005

Deepest Thanks and Appreciation

Today I have so much to be thankful for it's hard to know where to start.

Let me start by giving thanks for each person who took time to wish me well on my birthday celebration. I deeply appreciate it.

Second, Julie D. at Happy Catholic informed me that I have been nominated in the category of "Best Religious Blog" in some sort of blog awards. I mention this, not so much to encourage you to vote early and vote often, but more to express my deep appreciation for the kindness shown by whoever it was that nominated this blog. That the news arrived to me on my birthday was an exceptionally nice present. This is one of those cases where the nomination is enough in itself. Thank you, whoever you were who did the nomination. And thank you to those who even thought of it. You are all most generous and kind.

Third, I have the joy of this day--an exceptionally heady, wonderful, full-bodied joy that pervades the season and the day. It is God's utterly unmerited gift to me.

So to all at St. Blogs--thank you. You are the best extended family anyone could hope for.

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December 4, 2005

My Birthday Celebration

Today--

Saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which I found most profoundly disturbing in a very good way.

Received four movies including Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Christmas in Connecticut, Death on the Nile, and my favorite of the series, Evil Under the Sun--could there possibly be a better match-up than Diana Rigg and Maggie Smith? For that matter, except for Angela Lansbury, is there anyone to compare with Maggie Smith no matter what she sets her mind to?

Have a book yet to open.

Broke the Advent Fast to have a near-feast for dinner at a local sea-food restaurant. (But then, it is Sunday, a good day for breaking fast regardless.)

Blessed all day by a real sense of God's abiding presence.

Not much more to report. Perhaps more tomorrow. God bless you all. May the real joy of the Holy Spirit be with you in this season of waiting.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:55 PM | Comments (17) | TrackBack

October 30, 2005

A Request for Prayers

I don't know if I made a point about this before, but even if so, it never hurts to renew a request for prayer.

I have recently volunteered, and ultimately been accepted, to take on pro tem the duties of both the Regional Coordinator AND the Regional Formation Director. As to the latter, I feel that the requirements of the duties fall well within my skill set. As to the former, administration is not something that comes to me naturally. I will need a lot of help, both corporal and in the realm of prayer. I'd greatly appreciate it if you would remember me and more particularly my duties and responsibiities in this capacity in your prayer. I am not a particularly capable leader where the every-day issues and messy adherence to regulations is called for. Nevertheless, I know without doubt that with God's help I can do enough to keep our region moving forward.

So, please just remember my region and pray that I might be able to act for the good of the entire Carmelite community until such time as God raises up for us a capable leader.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:49 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

September 25, 2005

Did I Happen to Mention. . .

Took Samuel to his first church-driven CCD program meeting (he'd been getting home-schooled, but until recently the diocese had a requirement that to receive communion children had to attend Church-sponsored CCD--thought it was still in place--signed him up--it isn't.). As I had to be there anyway, I figured I would volunteer. Signed the sheet and five minutes later was whisked away into the fourth grade class to serve as teacher-helper. (I suppose I shouldn't mention that I am ambivalent about this policy as I thought they would at least do fingerprinting, etc. as is common here when serving with either children or the elderly. But didn't really want to go through that hassle either.)

So now I'll help out the fourth-grade teacher. Next year I may be teaching CCD. Anyway, the program is so weak that it won't damage Samuel's education and we'll continue with what we have been doing at home. So next year I'll probably teach grade 3. Not bad for a person used to working with Grade 6 and above. (Predominantly college freshmen, sophmores, and 1st year grad. students). Pray for me!

Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:29 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 22, 2005

Buy A Friend A Book

Buy a Friend a Book!

It is with a cheerful and smiling self-aggrandizement that I point out that the next BAFAB opportunity is the first week of October, and TSO has recently pointed out that mine is not the largest private library that he is aware of (Alas). It strikes me that one should be able to rely upon one's friends to redress these gross maladjustments of the celestial sphere.

So those so inclined can hie thee to Amazon and see if they can figure out how to find my wish list and purchase one, two, three, or all six-hundred and eighty-nine items on it. (exaggerating of course--I'm fairly certain there are not more than 100 at the present time.)

But wait! There's more! If you act right now, you can go to this page and get fabulously wonderful stickers to put on your blog site and to lead others straight to your amazon wish-list!

Posted by Steven Riddle at 5:43 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

September 12, 2005

Linda's Birthday

Soliciting prayers for a good, happy, healthy, fun day of home-schooling and whatever it is we decide to do this afternoon.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 12:11 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 5, 2005

Four States, Some Ponies, and a Shrine

WV, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia today. Went out to Pennsylvania to take Sam and his cousin to the miniature horse farm a couple of miles away from Gettysburg. Later passed through that most dismal of memorials (the area here is filled with them--Harper's Ferry, Antietam, Shiloh, Gettysburg, all within a few miles of one another). Sobering and deadening in many ways. I don't handle WBS sites very well.

However, it was worth it because our route home took us through Emmitsburg, Maryland--a lovely small town nestled in the green hills of central/western Maryland. There, of course, is the shrine of the first American-Born saint--Mother Elizabeth Ann Seton.

The shrine itself is enormous and stirring. There is a basilica that holds the remains of mother Seton in a side altar. There is a retreat center and I think a home for aged Sisters of Charity. But also present are two important houses--the Stone House where she attempted to start the first schools in the area. She was ultimately prevented by the pervasive anti-Catholic sentiment that still knows little surcease. Also present is the so-called "White House" in which Mother Seton died.

These houses are wonderful because they are both early-American homes and the houses of a great American Saint. God blessed the country greatly with a Saint of the caliber of Mother Seton. Many who followed her had her as first example. I think most particularly of St. Katherine Drexel, who continued the work begun by Mother Seton in helping the disenfranchised and the underprivileged.

The grounds are quiet and make for a nice, leisurely, meditative walk. For those who live in the DC area, and who have not visited, I would recommend a day trip during the weekend. I was with my protestant in-laws and arrived too-late at any rate, but I was not able to attend a Mass at the Shrine. Even the drive to the shrine is beautiful. Of course, traffic around D.C. being what it is there are traffic jams even out here where corn fields stretch to the very edge of the country roads that wind through the wide green expanses. It isn't difficult to picture yourself in the times of Mother Seton. It also isn't hard to think about her becoming one of the first Americans--she was about two years old when on July 2, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was signed, creating a new nation that had yet to win that independence.

Any way, it was a beautiful end to a wonderful day. When I get the chance I'm going to post a couple of pictures from the trip--both the shrine and the pony farm. I also bought a couple of books about Mother Seton that include generous selections from her own writings. I hope to share some of those soon. The trip moved me greatly althought I honestly didn't really expect it. God blesses us in all the things we do to honor Him.

He blesses me also in the people who stop by here each day to read. Thank you so much for your generosity. I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:03 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

July 28, 2005

Another Shocking Revelation of My Inadequacy

First, this is not by way of criticism or slight to anyone who may differ from this opinion. Indeed, I find it one of my great burdens. But let's just say I don't get the idea of a "beach book."

I don't quite understand the concept of going to a beach book in hand. And when I come back from a beach after ten or twelve hours of walking the entire strand, dodging sharks, and collecting whatever might be collectable, I'm in no state whatsoever to read a book. In the entire time I spent on vacation, I brought about twelve books to read--I ended up reading perhaps a couple of chapters of one of them.

I am, in fact, exceedingly pleased by an observation made by my host with regard to my approach to the beach. He said (and I paraphrase most of it), "I've noticed there are different styles of going to the beach. Some go and sit and sun. Some savor the beach, letting it come to them. You devour the beach."

Now there is truth here. The day we went to the beach when it wasn't stormy and the beach was our only destination, I walked from Delmore-Wiggins pass (a turtle beach) to the North Side of Downtown Naples and back. I don't know how far that is, but my guess is about eight-to-ten miles. My goal would be to walk from Naples to Venice. However, as that would entail swimming several rather large, probably bull-shark infested rivers, I rather think I'll keep it down to between large tidal rivers.

But back to the point. I love the beach. I go with the intent of sitting and absorbing and just being there, but the beach calls to me. Like Prufrock, "I hear the mermaids singing each to each," unlike Prufrock I do not care that they do not sing to me--it is sufficient to be privileged to overhear the conversation meant only for them.

But then we must keep in mind that Steven has, among his friends, a reputation for being robo-tourist. I just read MamaT's description of her first few days of vacation and thought back to my time in San Francisco. And I had written a long description here of it; however, it would seem to detract from that wonderful entry i cited above. Suffice to say that I am known for my ability to take in the sites in a given location. Thus, it should come as no surprise that my recreation at a beach is to walk as far as I possibly can in either direction from where I start. The idea of sitting with a book seems somehow contrary to my notion of a beach--and that, I admit, is my failing. I guess when I take a vacation, I take a vacation from me and my driving impulses as well as from a location. I was amazed at how very little I read (only the directions to and descriptions of the places we were going or just had been.)

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July 23, 2005

One Last Image

In a private communication one reader was surprised at how much I had liked Key West and how poetic I had waxed over it. Well, this little photo will give you a sense of why. That was the view from my hotel room. Three days after Dennis and sea and sky have returned to where they started. In other pictures the swirls of sea and sky reflect one another with the same apparent flatness. I cannot say enough about the water and its color. As soon as I can reasonably well capture it, I will likely substitute it for my background on this site. Problem has been that there has been no good way to capture it well.

Well, good night all.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 6:45 PM | Comments (2)

For Julie, by Request--but not the Spiny Lizard

Sorry. Not the spiny lizard, but I thought you might prefer one in focus. I'm still sorting through the spiny lizard photos with some hope that I might find one that isn't all blurred out.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 6:40 PM | Comments (1)

And some Flora and Scenes from the Desert

My Javelina pictures did not come out as well as I would have liked and the Coyotes were downright dreadful. Got a lot of great spiny lizards, but figured you might enjoy these more.

And the lovely San Xavier del Bac, presently undergoing restoration.

And to RC if he happens to drop by--I promise never, never, never to do this again. For one thing it is entirely too much effort--but I'll work really hard to reduce server strain.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 5:14 PM | Comments (3)

A Sample of the Flora and Fauna of My Trip

The flower above and the friend below were both experiences to be savored at Corkscrew Swamp--an Audubon preserve.

Said friend is heralded by this plant--appropriately enough called Alligator flag. Throughout the swamp we found them with these regular, even perforations. They were so perfect that it seemed unlikely to be caused by a browsing insect. I thought perhaps they functioned like the slits in banana leaves. Alas, I know too little about this mystery to help you resolve it.

And the friend below brought to me courtesy of a short side-trip to Estero, Florida--the Koreshan Settlement.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 4:31 PM | Comments (0)

Why I Love the Dry Tortugas

And yes, for many reasons, this is likely to be the best picture you see of me on this site.

The view of Fort Jefferson--the place of incarceration of Dr. Samuel Mudd, unjustly railroaded into prison for setting John Wilkes Booth's leg and released after helping tend a yellow fever epidemic in the Fort. Certainly the acts of a traitorous coward.

What you can see without ever entering the water. (From the moat walk around the fort.)

Posted by Steven Riddle at 4:16 PM | Comments (0)

July 19, 2005

Thunderstorm over the Santa Catalina Mountains

My hotel room here looks out over the Santa Catalina Mountains, a golf course, and some desert set-pieces that punctuate the artificial (and irresponisible) green.

Last night I watched as the heavens played out a magnificent thunderstorm--lightning as I have never seen it before, even though I live in the lightning capital of the world. Huge jagged bolts that tore apart the night sky and light up the mountains in glorious silhouette. Unimaginably beautiful--to see a saguaro highlighted against the sky. Beautiful.

This morning I walked around seeing what the desert had to offer for the waking person. Rabbits, lizards, and a few other fast-moving ground things. But most wonder of all--a cactus wren in its nest and an unidentified owl high in the tree. La Paloma (the name of the resort) certainly has a home here as well.

Please join me in giving great thanks for all that the Lord has shared with me on these two trips. They have been utlimately restorativeo--to the point where tomorrow or the next day I may be writing about the categorical imperative or the Discourse on Method. Yes, my brain has recovered, ever so little.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:29 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

July 18, 2005

Blogging from Tucson

From the wonders of Manatees, Dolphins, Leatherbacks, Hawksbills, loons, alligators, tricolor herons. . .

From the turquoise of water that is beyond the description of water, water never meant to look like heaven and promising the gates thereof,

From bridges spanning mangrove islands filled with yet more gators, salt-water crocodiles, and a panoply of birds and animals you cannot begin to imagine. . .

from black bears and Flordia panther, from ghost orchid and spider lily and alligator glad,

To Saguaro, ocotillo, barrel cactus, and desert palms,

road runner, coyote, javelina, rattlesnake, and best of all (and I'm not joking her because I love them) scorpions,

from the humid to the dry.

In a single day I return from the wealth of Florida and emerge into the wealth of the desert. The sere beauty, the austere and lovely surroundings that allow for no miscalculation, no mistake.

I'm hoping that during this brief stay I will be able to take in San Xavier del Bac--aka "The White Dove of the Desert."

God is very, very good indeed and He has blessed me beyond blessing with the riches He has showered on me in the last few days. More later, but now, to enjoy the desert sunset--sure to be completely different from tht of the ocean, but enchanting, beautiful, wonderful all the same.

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July 15, 2005

The Vacation Winds Down

All I can say is that it is a good thing that the Keys were the last point of my agenda rather than the first. I would never have escaped from them--never found my way anywhere else. I did not expect to like them as much as I did, and yet, there it is. Nearly everything else pales in comparison, as lovely as it all was. I'm suffering from Keys withdrawal.

The pace of Island life was so subdued and so Caribbean--I don't do night life so I didn't really see Key West at its worst--in fact, I saw nothing that put me off overmuch, and certainly nothing that was as bad as the Ocean was good. There is nothing like the sight of turquoise waters broken by the deep blue of channels and the occasional brown of a shoal or coral reef. Nothing like seeing parrotfish and angelfish swimming free. Nothing at all like the Dry Tortugas. While I was there I met a volunteer in the gift shop and asked him about the living arrangements for volunteers. I didn't think that they would come in with an early boat and go out in the evening. And I was right. They live on the island for thirty day stretches. Suddenly I saw myself as a gift-shop volunteer on Garden Key--somehow don't think they'd put up my whole family though.

And Key West, while magnificent and displayed for tourists in a way unmatched by any other key, was simply the jewel in the Crown. Bahia Honda, a long key with a gorgeous beach and a magnificent view of the Flagler bridges was our last stop on the way out. We only spent a couple of minutes, but it was once again gorgeous beyond words.

My host has been extremely patient and kind. We have schedules that work well together to give each of us a lot of private time. He gets up along about 4:00 am and I get up about 7:00 and follow that with an hour or so of hemming and hawing, prayer and prep for the day. He goes to bed along about 8:30 (or earlier) and I go to bed along about midnight or 1:00 am. Again, open spaces of free time for both of us.

This vacation has been a blessing, a deep and wonderful blessing. And in the course of it I have seen a great many things, most particularly those recounted here. But Key West overwhelmed me. I would like to go back and go parasailing (a desire I have never before in my entire life felt). It's odd, I have no longing to live there. I don't know that I would like to live there all the time. But as a rejuvenating charge, they simply can't be beat. Next time it will be with the family.

(Oh, and the major impediment against these things--the very frightening prospect of a hundred-mile-long bridge is not even remotely a reality. There are only two fairly long stretches of bridge. So, I suspect that I will return as soon and as often as is feasible. These are a taste of paradise on Earth.)

Posted by Steven Riddle at 1:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

July 13, 2005

"As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean"

Preliminary post on the Dry Tortugas.

Just returned and rocking, endlessy rocking, compensating for ship motion. It's amazing what six hours on a boat will do to you--even if they are spread across two three-hour spaces. I haven't had time to absorb the trip yet, but suffice to say that it is paradise within paradise. If the Keys are wonderful and beautiful, the Dry Tortugas are that and more as there are far fewer people--flying fish, parrot fish, tarpons, dolphins, sea-turtles, frigate birds and boobies--but only the people who arrived on the boat.

We did not opt to camp out and I now think that might have been a mistake. I think about seeing the Milky Way from the middle of the Gulf of Mexico--Okay not the middle, but well nigh the last little spot of land east of the Yucatan.

And the sea is turquoise--perfect turquoise--the water still slightly turbid from the churning Dennis gave them, the silt and clay still settling, but not dense enough to both the local life.

And the fort itself--the prisonhouse of Dr. Samuel A. Mudd--one of those accused in the "conspiracy" to assassinate Lincoln. Tried and convicted during a suspension of proper legal procedings that passed for law at the time. Pardoned upon helping the garrison when a Yellow Fever Epidemic broke out.

The shopkeeper there was a volunteer. He said that he worked a thirty day shift and lived on the Island during the time. What an opportunity! I'd love to do something like that. Every night the moon, the stars, the dolphin, and the sea=turtles. All of nature cries out to God in praise, and the cries are the loudest I have ever heard in this subtropical haven. (Yes, not heaven).

I'll think about this some more and hopefull come up with something better to say. But don't count on it because words fail in the face of such glorious beauty and majresty. I will try regardless.

Tomorrow leaving Key West, which I have come to love. I wouldn't be able to live here--there is a weirdness here that is merely trying and tired--there is an attempt at energy and night-life that is merely dissolute. There are boutiques and shops that do business as though one were in a third-world country.

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July 11, 2005

Key West

Nine o'clock and the sun is still westering over Key West. The sky is painted with the red, yellow, and orange clouds and split by rays of the deep turquoise blue tht seems to radiate out of the west, a final glowing sky to fight the shadow that encroaches. The Harbor Lights wink on and the silhouette of a man in a row boat works across the bight as does the shadow of a bird in flight that cannot yet be identified.

Key West is recovering from Dennis. Piles of debris line the streets and many of the parks are not open until Wednesday. We had to postpone our trip to the Dry Tortugas by a day, but it buys us a day on the island.

We may spend part of the day tomorrow visiting Bahia Honda a few keys up. We will probably walk by Hemingway's house (we can't really go in as we are both deathly allergic to cats and the polydactylate cats still wander and (I'm told) aromatize the premises.) We will then probably take in a tourist trap or two--such as the pirate museum. We might also visit the beach hear. Already have visited Southernmost point, Southernmost house (with a real widow's walk) and Southernmost Hotel.

Key West is the land of cultivated, calculated wierdness. Needless to say we will not partake of the Duval Street Drawl, nor shall we be in attendance on her royal highness Sushi, the local drag queen. We will try to visit Fort Zachary Taylor--I'm told the largest masonry structure in the United States. And we may try to take in a few more keys or museums. (There's a fossil coral reef on one of the keys.)

Any way, pray for continued good weather at least for the duration of this trip and pray Emily away from habitations. I'm already dreadfully tired of this hurricane season. Having four in one season can do that to a person.

Hope to fill you in on more details tomorrow.

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Key West and Environs

Well, today we embark for Key West. I'll be able to give a first-hand report about any damage from Dennis--although Key West is really built to weather the storm so I don't anticipate much, if anything.

If all goes well and the tours are still being conducted I'll be visiting the Dry Tortugas tomorrow. After returning we'll tour the Everglades Park including the small town of Flamingo on the very tip of Florida looking out across the ocean toward the Keys--so, if fortunate I'll have several views of the Keys.

Also I need to write about Day 8 which included the Caribbean Gardens Zoo and The Collier County Museum. And Day 9 which was our trip to the Beach during the height of Dennis. Finally Day 10 which was a trip to the Naples pier in the not-quite-aftermath of Dennis.

Please pray for those who faced the wrath of Dennis yesterday and who will be receiving the remainder of the storm over the coming days. While they won't have a hurricane, they will have the fall out which can precipitate floods and other very ill effects.

Hope all is well in blogland--have only had time to visit a few places during vacation. Regular rounds start up again after. I'm able to do this much because of the disparate schedules of me and my host. I tend to be a late-night person, he an early morning person. Thus our mutual functional period covers our various activities and we part ways long about 7:00-9:30 depending upon his tolerances. It's really a wonderful way to vacation--plenty of "alone" time and plenty of time with my friend--well-balanced.

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July 9, 2005

Day 7 Ca D'zan--The Ringling Summer Home

In contrast to the Edison/Ford summer place Ca D'zan (The House of John in a Venetian Dialect) was built to impress. And it does from the moment of entry to the grounds. You come up a circular lane and enter between two very feminine sphinxesd. The Tower of the house rises up against the blue of the sky and the blue of the river sets the backdrop for the whole scene. A statue of one of the Martial Caesar's decorates the right flank.

Inside, doors covered in gold leaf, hand painted cypress and plaster ceilings and an array of befuddling marble staircases that would entrance Escher. Mrs. Ringling liked green--thus the breakfast room is green, as is the pantry and the kitchen.

Overall, opulence deliberately calculated to give the real estate clients he often entertained a sense that the good life was possible in the Sarasota of the 1920s. A beautiful house.

The small museum on the grounds had a large collection largely of late Gothic and early renaissance "no-brand-name" painters. For example there was a painting fashioned after one of the most famous by El Greco, readily recognizable, however it was painted by his son. The Arcimboldo were from the school of Arcimboldo, etc. Which is not to say that the pieces did not have interest and attractions all of themselves. It was especially nice because it wasn't overwhelming. Easily walked in a couple of hours and enjoyed to the fullest.

The less said of the Circus Museum, the better. I find circuses and most particularly clowns disturbing at best. I suppose this represented the circus well, but I couldn't really advance an opinion. My host liked circuses and so I went through and looked at a collection of really neat photographs of Native American subjects that was for some reason included in the collection.

A very satisfying counterbalance to Wednesday's visit to the Edison/Ford estates.

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July 8, 2005

Day 6 Edison and Ford

Day Six was spent largely in Ft. Myers where we visited the Edison and Ford Winter Estates. I've been thinking for a while now about how to tackle these houses and talking about this two men because I have such an ardent antipathy for one, and a creeping dislike of the other.

Okay, my opinions out of the way, you might better be able to understand my ambivalence at visiting these homes. Both are interesting figures and "great" men and I'm interested in seeing the furnishings and appurtenances of historic homes.

When you visit the winter estates, you pull into a parking lot that is in front of a banyan tree. This tree was a gift of Harvey Firestone. When planted it was two inches around and about four feet high. Presently it has a cricumference of 400 feet and covers about an acre. Now, this number is a little deceptive. A Banyan tree is a kind of Ficus or fig tree. In its native India it is called a "Walking Tree." Aerial Roots drop down from high braches and form new trunks so you have a collection of interlaced trunks and branches all forming one tree. It is one of nature's most astounding and miraculous trees. And this complex forms the entry to the museum and grounds.

We bought a ticket for the works and viewed the Estate and took a really nice boat ride on the Caloosahatchee River to view the estates from the river. At first I missed them, and when we toured the estate, I figured out why.

In reality, these "estates" are very simple, very plain, very ordinary American Houses of their time. There is nothing whatsoever "estate-like" about them. They are about the size of an ordinary tract house amid gorgeous grounds, On the grounds I found at least four species of orchids. There were supposed to be some Dendrodium but I suspect they were not in bloom, Instead there were three species of Cattleya and one species of Endrobium (I think). Also on the grounds were several more Ficus of different species an Africa "Sausage Tree" and and absolutely gorgeous Frangipani. In short, the kinds of things I would very much like to have in my yard if I thought they would continue to grow.

Anyhow, you can see that I wasn't overwhelmed by the houses, but the grounds were truly magnificent and the whole experience is well worth undertaking.

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July 6, 2005

Day 5--A Quiet Day

Two things you should know, if you don't already--I am by training a paleontologist AND Collier County is one large limestone/fossil deposit. My friend here is having a house constructed. As a result dump trucks have left a large amount of gravel fill on his property. We first discovered this on 3 July when he took me by to see the progress. (When I first planned the trip, it was postulated that the house would be finished by this time and I would be staying there.) A cursory inspection of the pile revealed a wealth of casts and molds with the rock and a momentary closer inspection showed that there were tons of body fossils, most of Strombus, Oliva and other such species. I mentioned this in Monday's writing. Well, yesterday he had a meeting with the general contractor and as a result I got to go through the remains of that pile and pull out a large number of fossils. Much of the field had been removed because it was fill for the drainage fill of the septic tank—what a horrible fate for all those wonderful fossils! But still, even in the remnant of the pile, the small fraction that remained contained more fossils that I could collect in the field in a month of field days.

On the way out to the place, however, I had the thrill of the day, and possibly of the last several years. We were driving by some houses a little further along, toward the cypress swamp. We were also looking at some vacant property and seeing how it might shape up for building. Coming back from that little jaunt we saw an animal up off the road to the left. At first I thought it was a large dog, but as we approached we saw that it was a young bear--more than a cub, but not quite an adult. I wasn't able to get a photograph because when we slowed and stopped the car, this very wise animal got alarmed and loped off into the woods. I have never encountered a black/brown bear in real life before. We had relatively little fear as we were in a car and had no intention of approaching any closer than we were already; however, our friend did not know that and he made haste to get away before our intentions should change. This is precisely how such encounters should occur--to our benefit and not to the significant (if any) detriment of the animal.

You can imagine how I praised God for that little vision. This is one of those things that just make a vacation perfect AND it seems I've had at least one of those every day I've been here.

Today, depending on other factors, we plan to visit the Ford/Edison Estates in Fort Myers. Later this week the Mote Marine Laboratories, Ca D'zan, and other places of interest in Sarasota. Then it's out to Okeechobee and places to the east--particularly to a Bamboo farm near Fort Lauderdale. And later yet--the Keys and the Dry Tortugas.

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Day 4--The Koreshan Settlement--Estero, Florida

I continue to write despite the fact that I cannot publish because when I finally can publish you all will be thrilled and astounded with the wonders here in South Florida (okay, stop the guffaws and fake sneezing.)

On day three the thrill du jour was the Koreshan Settlement, a utopian community founded in South Florida after Cyrus (hence Koresh--the Hebrew for Cyrus) Reed Teed, a Chicago electro-physician in the course of a series of experiments delivered too large a jolt to himself, passed out, and received a revelation from an Angel. He was the new messiah and he was to build the New Jerusalem.

He immediately set about the task by moving to Estero, south of Fort Myers, and beginning the Koreshan Unity. The Koreshans had central to their doctrine what is called Cellular Cosmology--you really need to google this and read about it--a magnificent inspiration. They even did an experiment on Naples beach which "proved" that the land curved up to reach the horizon line, thus confirming the central tenet of the Koreshan Unity--the Earth is a hollow sphere with the continents impressed on the inside and a large ball of gasses seven-thousand miles in diameter that contained the sun, the moon, and the stars.

The Koreshan Unity was a utopian community that believed in celibate living. Koresh thought of himself of the sun and because he believed in the equality of male and female, his female counterpart Victoria Pretia (I'll need to look that name up) was the moon. In addition, the seven women who lived in the Planetary Court represented the seven planets.

There's a lot of similarity with the Shakers in their use and embrace of all things modern and in their desire to cultivate arts, music, dancing, and theater.

The settlement has a number of extant buildings, one of the most interesting of which is the "Arts Hall," in which is displayed the model of cellular cosmology and the "rectilineator." The latter is the device with which they proved that Earth was actually a concave surface. Most interesting.

This is one of the wonders of looking at almost any area closely. You will find a wealth of wild and wonderful things. Wherever there are people there are oddities and wonders to behold. And this small community, which we thought a toss-off trip turned out to be three or four hours worth of study.

Other highlights of this trip--in the course of this trip we saw a tortoise--a large tortoise in his burrow and crawling through the grass. I suppose it is possible that these were two different animals, but it was an incredibly neat thing to see under any circumstances, one animal, two animals, or otherwise.

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July 3, 2005

Report from Days 1, 2, 3

Let's start with Mass. On a Sunday Mass seems a good place to start. The less said about St. John the Evangelist, the better, it strains charity with no good reason. The Mass was quite fine in between bouts of applause for this that and the other thing and the playing of deplorable sectarian hymns that seem to crop up with every patriotic holiday.

Friday (arrival day)--Arrived at the initial destination about 2:00. In the car I had been listening to Peter Kreeft's lectures on Ethics. After our initial meet and greet--a friend of long standing whom I had not seen in far too long, we did a whirlwind tour of the local area ending with a brief visit to Delnor-Wiggins Pass. This is a lovely stretch of beach that has no large buildings anywhere near it. It has nearby and estuary from a mangrove swamp so the ocean water is tea-colored. More, we saw a turtle nest carefully marked with all sorts of notices about it.

Yesterday (Saturday)--when I have a chance I will dumb down some of the photos I took in yesterdays excursion to Corkscrew Swamp, a National Audubon Wildlife refuge and a gorgeous place to visit. I wasn't certain about it, but everyone I spoke to recommended it. There is a 2.5 mile boardwalk through Pond Cypress, Wet Prairie, Central Swamp, and Lettuce Lake. In the course of our walk I stood about two feet away from a six foot long alligator and photographed him two or three dozen times. Also saw some Giant Swallowtails and Spicebush swallowtails, brown anoles, 5 lined-skinks, and a strange black skink with two brown "racing stripes." Also photographed swamp hibiscus, alligator flag and a number of other types of wildflowers. Visiting South Florida? Put this on your "must do" list. The walk has a short version for those not up to two and a half miles in 95-98 degree whether with Tropic of Cancer sun beating down. (Personally, that's one of the reasons I live in Florida, there's nothing better in the world.) One of the best things about this excursion was that the place announced that it was not a big mosquito area, and they were mostly right.

Today we decided to go look at Marco Island (a distinct disappointment) and Everglades City, a real surprise, about which more later. On the way to Everglades City we saw a brown sign pointing left off the road and we pulled into the Fakahatchee Strand Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk. This place was deet-city and drop dead gorgeous. You could hear the bellow of alligators and the wrapping of a pileated woodpecker. Basically it's a two-thousand foot boardwalk out into a "strand" which is a very thin line of deep forest in "the river of grass." Thus there were vines, and tangles, and strangler figs and six different kinds of orchids. Unfortunately, I did not get to see any blossoms. Saw two small gators (which was a pretty good indication that there were no large gators in the near vicinity). On the way out to Everglades city we saw some larger beasties in the sawgrass and nearby canals.

Everglades City--voted Florida's top Rural community of 1998. Charming. That's the only word for it. We went to the Museum of the Everglades which we expected to be closed. I was greeted by an absolutely delightful woman who not only invited me into the museum (which was open because of July 4th Festivities) , but who proceeded to invite my friend and me to attend the town's July 4th celebration. Said celebration started with a parade that featured Mickosukee Indians (or perhaps Seminoles) with a person dressed as an Episcopalian Deaconess who served among them for some thirty years. Then a variety of swamp buggies, atvs, and classic cars followed. Some really amazing classic cars. This was followed by a barbecue and fireworks in the late evening.

My friend and I chose, however, to move on down the road to a small island called Chokoloskee. There was a general store that was established in 1895 looking out over Chokoloskee bay and the Ten Thousand Islands--sheer delight as you scanned the horizon and saw micro-mangrove islands, mini mangrove islands, midi mangrove islands, and maxi mangrove islands--standing in fact on one of these. Chokoloskee island started its life as a mangrove island. The sea breeze was cool and swift and drove away the majority of the mosquito population.

I didn't mention that we started the day by going out to my friend's property where they had recently dumped a bunch of fill, from which I was able to cull some Arca, Turitella, Dosinia, Acropora, and assorted other corals and gastropod fossils. The pile was just full to the brim with them. It's a real shame that Samuel wasn't here today because he would have loved finding all of the shells amongst the rocks and finding rocks that were in fact fossils.

A wonderful trip thus far. Already slipping into relaxation mode--but then how could one do otherwise amid this splendor? Both yesterday and today the weather was just about perfect--a trifle warm (in the upper 90s) but a bit of a breeze and not the usual late afternoon thundershowers one expects with midsummer Florida.

More later.

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June 18, 2005

D-(as in Departure) Day

Linda and Samuel will be spending the summer months up in WV with the grandparents. (It is the deepest of mysteries to me as to why they moved from the center of the world to its most far-flung corner--nevertheless, that is as it is.) Linda's sister has a small house and a large yard with chickens, goats, sheep, and other assorted farmyard animals. We thought that Samuel would have a great time being there. Moreover, we wanted him to have some time with his grandparents. I wasn't content with our usual week-long trip at Thanksgiving, so I'm hoping this is everything we imagine it might be.

As you might well imagine there is some sense of trepidation at so long a separation. The plus side is that toward the end of the trip I'll travel there also and we'll probably spend some time in Washington D.C. and perhaps in Charlottesville (really at Mount Vernon and at Monticello). Until then though, I'm more or less on my own and there's something a little scary in that. And sad. I'll miss them both. And as fun as it might be, I suspect that Samuel will miss Daddy as well.

What I will not miss are the mandatory three thousand and five daily repetitions of "Move it, Move it" from the Madagascar Soundtrack On the other hand, I will miss hearing, "March Slave" (as Samuel calls it), "Odd to Joy" and other tunes he's beginning to pick up. It's amazing how his ability grows by leaps and bounds although he doesn't really spend all that much time practicing.

In their absence, I suppose I'll immerse myself in my Father's Day present--David McCullough's 1776 as well as other works of similar vintage and theme. I've got about four Franklin Biographies stacked up to read, and heaven knows a plethora of Washingtoniana.

Anyway, prayers for safe travel and wonderful trip would be deeply appreciated.

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June 7, 2005

Hard Drive Bomb

Mysteriously, as is usual in these things, my Hard Drive bombed out yesterday leaving me with the NEW IMPROVED Windows XP black screen of death from which you cannot possibly recover anything.

Result--reformat disk, reinstall Windows, reinstall each separate tedious application, reset all preferences, days and days and days of work.

Praise God!

Other net result--months of accumulated junk gone in an instant, everything clean and shiny and new. Important Data---multiple redundant backups in multiple locations. A pain to deal with, but on the other hand, nothing serious lost.

Praise God!

This is such a blessing. I have had such an enormous burden of accumulated junk removed and now I have the opportunity to start over with a clean new system.

Of course, I nearly immediately junked it up again. But I erected a new folder structure and everything is much better organized than I would have made it within the parameters of the last system.

There really are great blessings in starting anew. This is one of those death and resurrection experiences that help reinforce my faith.

And while all of this may seem to have a satirical or sardonic undertone, let me assure you, my joy is real, and everything written here is a cause for glorifying God. When we are too weak to do what need be done, He will help us. When we are reluctant, He will put the car in gear. This is one of those times.

God is very good indeed!

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May 25, 2005

From Happy Catholic--Alphabet Meme

A is for Age - further the deponent sayeth not--I try not to think about it-but old enough to remember the later sixties.
B is for Booze - Don't drink--nada, nicht--tried wine for its rumored medicinal properties, yuck--worse than most medicine! Never acquired the taste, takes all my courage to take the cup when offered under both species.
C is for Career - Editing
D is for Dad’s name - James
E is for Essential items to bring to a party - anything with coconut
F is for Favorite song at the moment - Long Black Train Josh Turner or maybe Redneck Woman Gretchen Wilson--really tough to decide--but following on earlier post today--I'd rather look at Gretchen.
H is for Hometown - Pensacola, Florida (birth), Fairfax, Virginia (by adoption)
I is for Instrument you play - Clarinet--E-flat, B-flat, bass
J is for Jam or Jelly you like - Key Lime
K is for Kids - One
L is for Living arrangement - one story, 4 bedrooms, 3 baths, a billion books and the complete fauna of florida
M is for Mom’s name - Mary
N is for Names of best friends - Gary, Jane, Franklin, Katherine, Christine, Gordon
O is for overnight hospital stays - none
P is for Phobias - arachnophobia (those critters are from mars).
Q is for Quote you like - "Not poppy nor mandragora nor all the drowsy syrups of the world shall ever med'cine thee to that sweet sleep which thou ow'dst yesterday." Iago in Othello (Or Prospero's speech at the end of the Tempest.)
R is for Relationship that lasted longest - Other than siblings, my good friend Tom and my wife Linda (about the same vintage)
S is for Siblings - two brothers
U is for Unique trait - The ability to make anything I'm dressed in look like it came from goodwill without ever seeing an iron.
V if for Vegetable you love - okra
W is for Worst trait -I don't much give a flip about what anyone thinks about me (outside of a very small circle about whom I care greatly). Peer pressure gets my rebellious streak going full force. Not a lemming.
X - is for XRays you’ve had - teeth,
Y is for Yummy food you make - key lime pie
Z is for Zodiac sign--Sagittarius--But I prefer year of the Dog

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Offered to a Co Worker

A coworker said to me this morning, "We've got so much to do, I'm panicking." Actually it sounded more as we say thinks as "We've got so much to do I'm pannikin."

So I told her, "Young Panicking Skywalker, use the force wisely lest you become Darth Editor."

The movie may or may not be worth much, but at least it gave me that line.

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April 29, 2005

At Long Last--A Meeting

I did finally meet my friends of some eleven or twelve years' acquaintance. They stopped by one their way home. Joachim runs a service for all of us in The Journey--a daily reflection on scripture. I have been writing for him every week for over eleven years now.

He was everything in person that he has been in cyberspace. Never have I had the pleasure of meeting someone who was so much a calm center in the midst of the human press. One got the sense that at the very center of his being was peace to be shared with all the world. Anyway, that was the sense I got.

Joachim, his wife, Linda, and Samuel and I all had dinner and talked like we had been talking for ten-thousand years without stop.

What can I say? Every time I meet my friends from cyberspace the reality ALWAYS exceeds the expectations. I had been disappointed in my hope to meet Joachim at an earlier time--the situation turned out to be a tremendous blessing. But this evening was one of the most enjoyable I've experienced since my return from Dallas.

I hope each of you has the opportunity for the joy I have received in my several meetings with bloggers. I am hoping that there comes another opportunity to visit Ohio and particularly Columbus because one of my favorite bloggers lives there and I'd love to see him in person. With my current project, who knows?--it could happen!

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April 28, 2005

Possibilities

There is a possibility that I will be able to meet a person for whom I have been writing once a week, regularly, for going on or more than 10 years. (It boggles the mind.) This acquaintance is of such antiquity that we met via GEnie services--I don't know if that is just pre-internet boom (I think so) or not. Anyway, pleasae pray that this might finally happen. We had one near miss before, and much is contingent upon schedule and other things. So it might fall through. I certainly hope not. But. . .

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April 19, 2005

Steven's Happenings

You probably don't care all that much but I thought I'd tell you:

I'm working on the draft of a new, rather long (for me) poem that I hope to share here shortly. It started as a tribute to John Paul the Great, but it had a transmigration of soul and became something different.

I'm reading:

Philip Roth The Plot Against America
Day Keene Home is the Sailor--This is part of an interesting "noir" revival series by Hard Case. Day Keene was an author of the mid-fifties and this is one of their works (it was the pseudonym, apparently of a team, like Manning Coles and Ellery Queen). Other in the series include, for some reason, Top of the Heap by A.A. Fair (I'm uncertain why this one was chosen in particular--I would probably have taken something like Bedrooms Have Windows or Owls Fly at Night, but I'm not the editor on the series. Then there is a large group of modern writers placing themselves in the Genre--Richard Aleas, Max Allen Collins, Lawrence Block, Dominic Stansberry, Alan Guthrie, Donald Westlake.
Ruth Burrows Ascent to Love

and about a million others in bits and pieces.

And I'm planning one of those excursions that you hope for all of your life. I'm going to get to see the prison of Dr. Samuel A. Mudd--imprisoned for complicity in the assassination of Abraham Lincoln because he set John Wilkes Booth's broken leg. This prison happens to be located about sixty miles west of Key West in the Dry Tortugas. I have wanted to visit these hinterlands forever, and it appears that an opportunity is opening up for me. I'll keep you posted.

Now, if I can just find a way to visit Hungary and Australia in the next couple of years.

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April 11, 2005

Young-at-Heart

Samuel has been to a couple of roller-skating parties. He loved them. He's done exceptionally well at school and helping around the house and he really wanted to go roller skating.

At the parties, I never felt the need to don the skates because he was with a whole group of his own friends, he didn't really need dad on the rink to have fun. However, on our own, it was another matter. I could only sit so long in the unbearable noise of the place, and he wouldn't have been able to enjoy the whole thing thoroughly.

As a result, I felt that I had to join him. This wouldn't be so bad except that I have never in my life been roller skating. I have done a good deal of ice skating thirty years ago and more--but roller skating was never in my repetoire.

Nevertheless, I donned the skates and after a few wobbly rounds of the rink reacquired my skating stride and figured out how to apply it to roller skates. I did not trust myself in the awkward skates to do cross over or jump turns to skate backward as the kinetics of rolling friction reducers are somewhat different from those of melted water friction reducers.

After about two rounds, I thought my muscles were going to burn out of my skin. It took getting use to, the stance and the muscles needed for balance, not to mention those required for minimal motion skating, etc.

As I watched Samuel simply run around the rink on skates, falling frequently, I went and sat down frequently. But by the end of the day, I was having a good time, and wondered why I hadn't thought to do this more often. It may be that Samuel and I have a "skating date" much more frequently.

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March 17, 2005

Some Questions

A gift from Gregg and MamaT

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?
Oh, this is really tough--either Bleak House Charles Dickens, Pseudolus Plautus, or Dandelion Wine Ray Bradbury.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Yes, three--the eponymous Emma, Kate (from Taming of the Shrew--probably like TSO's Dulcinea because of the fieriness of Elizabeth Taylor's version), and Margo Channing (All About Eve--class and irascibility mixed in the marvelous package of Bette Davis's drawl.)

The last book you bought was . . .
Helena and The DK Shakespeare Guide, the title of which eludes me.

The last book you read was . . .
Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling Ross King

What are you currently reading?
Helena Evelyn Waugh, The Collected Short Stories of Evelyn Waugh, Ascent to Love Ruth Burrows, Great Expectations Charles Dickens, Anna Karenina Leo Tolstoy, Carmelite Prayer, The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Life of Johnson, oh, and my guilty pleasure The Punch and Judy Murders Carter Dickson (to be followed up with some Craig Rice I was able to get from Blackmask as e-books!)

Five books you would take to a desert island: (The First Three are for sure. The last two would be a last minute decision. I'd select one from each group depending on the mood I was in and why exactly I was going to a desert island.)

1. Bible - Authorized Version (KJV with original inclusion of the Deuterocanonical Books).
2. Collected works of Shakespeare
3. Complete Works of St. John of the Cross
4. One of: Ulysses, A La Recherche du Temps Perdu, Bleak House, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, or Treasure Island (Depends on the pleasantness of the Isle and my feeling about possible length of stay and purpose)
5. Neal Stephenson either Snow Crash or The Diamond Age; The Difference Engine is a distant and unlikely third possibility.

What three people are you passing this stick on to and why?

Tom of Disputations - sheer curiousity as to whether he would stoop to this level.
Brandon of "Siris"--sheer unadulterated curiousity.
Mr. White-- ditto

I'm just a nosy parker.

Later:

Two points: How could I possibly have forgotten Emma Peel--the constant companion of my just-pre and adolescent years. My first girlfriend was a tristate champion in three martial arts.

And secondly, I'd also like to pass this own to Eutychus Fell because so much of what he writes strikes a familiar chord.

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March 7, 2005

Dallas

It has been confirmed, I will be visiting Dallas at the end of this month. If any of y'all have advice about good places to eat/see while there please let me know. Generally on these trips we are not allowed to rent cars so I'm stuck with public transport and will be staying Downtown, downtown--a couple of blocks from the convention center.

Restaurant ideas are greatly appreciated!

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February 23, 2005

Adoption Day

A quiet day for me today as we went out and celebrated Adoption Day with all due pomp and ceremony. Magic Kingdom--Haunted Mansion, Tom Sawyer Island, Pirates, Lunch, Two TTA, The Drag Race, Buzz Lightyear, and Snow White. Then dinner.

God has been so gracious and kind to us. Please join me and my family in thanksgiving for the wonderful gift every family has in its children, and most particularly for blessing us with Samuel to make up our family. We would have done just fine if God had not seen fit to grant us children, but I am so thankful that His providence has so blessed us.

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January 18, 2005

Why I Am the Catholic I Am

What follows may be too personal to be of much interest, but I thought it might help better understand some of the attitudes and prejudices that are occasionally given air here. I wrote it in response to a correspondent, who, believe me didn't ask for anything of the sort. I guess the unfortunate soul just happened to be in the way when the cannon went off.

"Having come from a protestant faith that claimed that they had existed all along as a "shadow church" but only emerged to claim their own during the reformation, I find that there is a lot of convincing evidence that the Catholic Church may claim, and rightfully so, the title of the one True Church. Certainly, this is a subjective certainty, but I stand with Newman (I think it was) on the notion that I cannot belong to a Church whose creed has a pedigree that does not stem from Christ Himself. While I am not competent to argue the case to others, in my researches, I found sufficient evidence to convince me that one Church could lay claim to that reality. There was another that probably had equal claim, but whose teaching authority was so scattered and diffuse that I found it an untenable home. I've subsequently found that I was wrong in that estimation--but I believe that it was grace that blinded me to my error for the time.

"As a protestant, I was not satisfied and the protestant world view was a warped mirror. It took me a long time after converting to Catholicism to become "truly" Catholic, and I still exhibit a lot of tendencies that drive many of my Catholic compatriots insane. You wouldn't believe how many Catholics look askance and ask why scripture reading is a necessity. And of course my problem with the Rosary befuddles a great many. But apart from a few relict attitudes, I feel that I've become a pretty good Catholic. My chief problem now is that having emerged from error, I live in fear of reentering error. That is, I am deeply suspicious of a great many writers who may be perfectly fine, but who have been accused of being off-track in some way. For example, Karl Rahner is on
my list of "the suspect." Until some recent material by Paul Elie and Christopher Blosser, I had my reservations about Merton, although Merton was one of the figures whose writing convinced me that there was something to be found in the Catholic Church that could be found nowhere else."

So, now when I ask about so-and-so and his "orthodoxy," you will, at least, have some idea of why I am asking. I have emerged from the land of "utter depravity" into the land of "good but flawed and fallen" and I have no desire to return. On the other hand, I also don't want to enter the la-la land of the neo-Rousseauian noble savage who is redeemed in and of himself but corrupted by society. Ho-hum, Anyone who can cast his eye back over the twentieth century and come to that conclusion has and ignorance as invincible as it is ahistoric. I pray that God bless such a one--who will be doomed to wander Candide-like through this world looking for "the best of all possible worlds." Eventually, God's grace prevailing, he shall find it, but it won't be here.

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December 12, 2004

A Samuel Story

Today Samuel was reading a simplified version of the Christmas Story. It said that Gabriel brought the message to Joseph the Carepenter. I asked him, "What is a carpenter," (After all, given my DIY challenged status, carpenter is not a word bandied about here.) His answer. "A man who sells carpets." Priceless.

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December 4, 2004

WooHoo! Birthday Surprises

Presents included the Spongebob Christmas movie AND

His Excellency Joseph Ellis. If it's as fine as Founding Brothers it will be a real pleasure.

Still waiting for Black Mischief

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October 27, 2004

I Voted!

Just so we can start our recounts earlier and prolong the legal wrangling, Florida now has early voting for nearly everyone. So as to avoid TMI, let us say that I went with the leading of the Holy Spirit at the moment. That means that for Ms. Schiavo I expressed my stern disapproval of everyone who occupies the bench at the moment and in the defense of life I voted to amend our constitution. (It will probably be struck down, but then, there's not even that hope if I don't set it up to start with.)

Even if you find it impossible to vote for president this year, there are a great many other matters of local concern that I urge everyone to consider carefully before avoiding the polling place.

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October 22, 2004

Why So Little Posting?

I find that I am tired.

I am spiritually worn out from the battle between those who tell me I MUST vote according to this or that piece of the Catechism and my own overly developed conscience, which tells me that a vote either way is a compromise with evil. I've read all of the arguments I've encountered and all they do is further weary me.

Political ads weary me.

In fact the only really bright points on the Florida ballot are a constitutional amendment requiring parental notification before abortion and the chance to vote against two of those who occupy the Executioner's chairs in our idiotic judiciary.

So, for a while, poetry. This weariness with political matters has too thoroughly inflitrated my mind to allow me to sail out of the spiritual doldrums. I'll enjoy the view while I'm here, and soon enough this concern will have passed and I'll come up with another excuse for why I make no progress.

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August 14, 2004

Greetings From Orlando!

After six or seven reroutings through Columbus, through Cinci, through Cleveland, through Atlanta, we finally caught a direct flight in Cleveland to. . . Miami. A mere four hours later we drive north to Orlando. Reaching Kissimmee the devastation even this far inland was remarkable. I can't begin to estimate how many are without power, water, necessities. Phone lines are difficult and different buildings are impacted differentially. We have a small roof-leak problem that we'll attempt to patch with tarpaulins until the insurance adjustors adjust things.

Please pray for those of my neighbors more heavily hit whose homes are more seriously damaged. Also please remember those who have died, the estimates are not even possible at this time.

Later: I should note for those concerned that power is out in a lot of places in Orlando. I don't know precisely where Mr. Luse lives, but I suspect he may be in one of the areas where power has taken a while to be restored. I live fairly close to the airport and so my neighborhood and surrounding areas is a kind of priority when it comes to these things. Even cable is mostly back. Please pray that God withhold the wonderful gift of rain for a day or two. My guess is that 50-75 percent of all houses in this area are affected, and we are actually lucky considering reports coming from elsewhere.

Thank you for all your prayers, and please keep them coming! Restoring the traffic signals is a critical priority so that some of the chaos can be cleared up.

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August 11, 2004

Greetings From Austin

God has truly blessed Texas. The country between Austin and San Antonio is really very, very lovely. The hills, the greenery, the creeks and streams are all quite beautiful.

Last night I watched as a colony estimated at more than 1,000,000 bats swirled out from under the bridge in Downtown Austin and skimmed along the shores of the river. Turning around I was able to see the magnificent edifice of the pink granite Texas State Capitol. And it put me in mind of another way that Texas is blessed among states--their legislature meets only about once every two years or so. Sure enough, they do damage to last for at least two years, but nevertheless, they aren't always mucking around making a mess of things.

Austin is a beautiful city and the work here is going as well or better than the work I have done at many another location.

Pay attention to your day. There is so much to be thankful of in the course of it.

Hope to be able to say more later. May God bless you all. Pray for a safe flight today and then another tomorrow as I head out to Columbus.

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July 1, 2004

Absence

Over the next several days, I shall be blissfully celebrating our nation's birth (much to Erik's pain and woe) at the breast of the Mother of Life (at least here on Earth) herself. Please pray for my family this evening as we travel, and even as I delight in the sun, the sea, and the shark's teeth, I shall be praying for you.

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June 14, 2004

Presenting Samuel as Tom Thumb

Samuel was in his first dance recital this weekend and it was enough to swell this father's heart with pride. He played Tom Thumb, and started out onstage alone. I had watched for weeks as they practiced this and it had never occurred to me that in the actual fact of the matter, he would be all alone. Here's a little six year old on the stage with a thousand people watching. All sympathetic, of course, but nevertheless, what an experience it must have been for him.

He did well, remarkably well considering his class of little girls, all darling and sweet didn't seem to know what to do. He had to lift each one and hurry them off the stage and they nearly got out with the last of the music. It was hilarious and touching all at once.

Afterwards, Samuel was pumped, he had really enjoyed it and was looking forward to doing it again. Next year he will do both ballet and tap. He's really looking forward to the tap. He wants to do Riverdance (which is hard to find teachers for). So we'll start with American tap. Whatever it is, it's a workout and so much more in line with what I want for small children than most martial arts practice. Eventually, we'll probably get to that as well. But only after he has the maturity to discern when to practice and how. Right now, he's just a bit too young for it (and perhaps a bit too enthusiastic). One thing at a time.

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April 8, 2004

I Had the Oddest Dream Last Night

Last night I dreamt that I was called to found a relgious order--The Little Brothers of Elijah and Elisha. Other than megalomania, I can't imagine what it means, or what the mission of this order would be. But it was most interesting as I was setting about trying to figure out a rule and mission for the order. They were to be Carmelites, of a sort, all Lay brothers but living by a stricter rule than that imposed on the Lay Carmelites presently.

As I said, other than a exalted sense of self, I don't know what this means, but I thought I'd share it.

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February 22, 2004

Tomorrow is Adoption Day

And boy wants to see Spider Man, so it's off to Universal Studios for our once-yearly trip. Pray for a good day. Also continue to pray for our intentions. Write tomorrow evening or Teusday morning.

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February 18, 2004

Assorted Ruminations

--Sometimes I wish I were clever enough, had an incisive enough mind, or perhaps just cared passionately enough to make political comments and critique those who make the decisions about running the nation. But the truth of the matter is that as capable as I am in some things, in this I am utterly incapable. I would not like to be the person responsible for representing thousands of people like me and worse. I have neither the practical savvy nor the self-assurance to be able to make decisions of this sort and whenever I get to analyzing them, my critique amounts to the fact that I don't care for the decision because I don't like it. Period. Not a great way to comment on politics.

--While we're recounting failings, I may as well admit that I don't particularly like Abraham Lincoln either. I truly respect and admire George Washington, John Adams, and to some extent James Madison. I abhor Alexander Hamilton and I'm ambivalent about Jefferson and Marshall. Jefferson has thoroughly admirable and even enviable facets, and thoroughly disreputable and unlikable characteristics. This is true of nearly everyone, but this dichotomy seems more pronounced in Jefferson than in some others. Oh, and I've never particularly cared for Andrew Jackson, but recent intelligence suggests that my opinions were formed in the absence of some of the facts.

--It's too cold in Florida today. Yes, I know it's colder elsewhere, but that doesn't stop it from being too cold here today. I need to live near sea-level nearer the equator--Trinidad, Belize, anyone have a suggestion of a Caribbean destination that isn't completely politically unstable?

--In case you can't tell from the blog, I'm excited about Lent. I'm really looking forward to it, and have, in a small way, already geared up for my Lenten Journey. I still haven't quite figured out the entire plan--what I'll read and what penitential practices I will engage in; however, I do know that I shall spend a great deal more time with my Carmelite Mentors AND Ignatius Press has a very interesting book that might be worth looking into--Thomas á Kempis The Passion of Christ.

Well enough bits and pieces. More later if my brain doesn't dry up.

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February 6, 2004

These Questions Interested Me

In the realm of entirely TMI:

Friday Five

1. What's the most daring thing you've ever done?

Walking across a quarter mile railway trestle three-hundred feet above the ground with no real reason for doing so. (Daring or STUPID)

2. What one thing would you like to try that your mother/friend/significant other would never approve of?

Surf Waimea

3. On a scale of 1-10, what's your risk factor? (1=never take risks, 10=it's a lifestyle)

3

4. What's the best thing that's ever happened to you as a result of being bold/risky?

My present employment.

5. ... and what's the worst?

Broken knee stitches in face, broken teeth--all from a tragic fall down some stairs.

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February 2, 2004

The Provincial Visitator

This weekend we had a visit from our Provincial Visitator, Sister Libby Dahlstrom. She visits about once a year usually in January or February. Wonderful lady with a wonderful message from our Provincial Delegate about how to run our meetings and the true focus of Carmelite Spirituality.

As part of the meeting we gather for Mass before hand. This mass was something special--there were two priests I had never seen before celebrating. They looked vaguely familiar, but it was only after one of them launched into his homily that I realized why. These two priests were part of the Grey Friars here attending on Father Groeschel. It was a blessing to see them and to hear about how Fr. Groeschel was doing (recovering well and picking up speed.)

This young priest had been ordained only about nine months ago and he was accompanied by another young priest or deacon. There may be a vocation crisis, but when I see the strength of some orders and some places, I tend to doubt it.

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January 2, 2004

Commemoration of the Day--from Milton's "Lycidas"

A trying day, and then it shall be over:(by the way, read that as a hopeful statement, not a threat).

from "Lycidas"
John Milton

Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more,
For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead,
Sunk though he be beneath the wat'ry floor;
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:
So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high
Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves;
Where, other groves and other streams along,
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
There entertain him all the Saints above,
In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
That sing, and singing in their glory move,
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more:
Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore,
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
To all that wander in that perilous flood.

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December 11, 2003

Thanks for all the Support

As many predicted, Samuel is taking this all in stride, although he has a disconcerting way of talking about Linda's sister (who died a couple of years ago) and other dead people he has known or that he knows of. As far as he's concerned, Mommy's absence simply means that he gets to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed--so there's little trauma.

And no word yet as to the extent of the stay or the real purpose. Linda tends not to tell me things, thinking, perhaps that it would be less worrisome. . .

I'll try to answer e-mails, but I'm sure you'll understand if I am slow about it.

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December 3, 2003

Amazingly, I CAN Remain in Contact

Even sans laptop and without a connected PDA, can use the exceedingly crude hotel access to annoy people at a distance. Oh, technologty is goodly, wonderful thing. Praise God for these small wonders, and for the gorgeous palms bending in the wind just outside this room. No time to get to the beach today, but it is nevertheless a truly wonderful day. Pray for me as the trip continues, and please pray for my beloved wife who is quite seriously ill--pray for complete and rapid recovery--things are so bad that we even had to cancel my annual pilgrimage to Islands of Adventure to revel in the Spiderman ride!

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A Brief Description of the Virginia Trip

In the course of my trip to Virginia, I met with five different figures from the blog-world (well, considering the presence of another small one--six). It is perhaps significant that two and a half of these meetings were initiated at a Church, one and a half at a bookstore (one was at a bookstore in a church, hence the half), and one in a Museum (Natural History to be precise.)

It seems that this sums up the motions of my life--God, Books, and Fossils. I met with Tom of Disputations, Kathy the Carmelite, Therese (who has no blog, but who frequents many and provides innumerable cogent comments), Peony Moss and Child (an utter delight, wonderful in every way), and Father JIm of Dappled Things (I went to Mass regularly at his Church).

Every one of these meetings was a blessing. Three were pretty much as expected, two people were totally unexpected. Since Fr. Jim has posted pictures of himself on his blog, there were no surprises to be had there. And Tom was exactly as I had pictured him, a wonderful surprise in itself. Ms. Moss was almost exactly as I expected, and her son was one of the great highlights of my trip. We spent the better part of two hours taking him through the various exhibits and I enjoyed myself tremendously. (Especially lovely was when we joined my family for lunch and Samuel was so forthcoming about sharing his food--he has learned very, very well.)

Therese was a complete surprise, and that has more to do with my prejudices with regard to the name than with Therese. (I know a great many hispanic and Philippino ladies by the name of Therese). And Kathy was a surprise to me. I guess because I had formulated no notion of what exactly I expected.

Each meeting was wonderful beyond words, illuminating, and worth everything all parties had to go through for the meetings to occur. I hope that all those I met were as rewarded as I was through the meetings.

Therese very generously gave me a book. It is this book that I am taking around with me as I drag my carcass through the various cities I am about to visit. It is R. Garrigou-Lagrange's Christian Perfection and Contemplation I've read about a hundred and twenty pages, understood perhaps as much as ten percent of it, and am bewildered and mystified as to why anyone would regard the life of a mystic as a "problem." But as Therese noted, given that it is a study of the mystical life according to the traditions of St. John of the Cross and St. Thomas Aquinas, it is the perfect gift from a Dominican to a Carmelite.

My thanks to everyone I met for taking the time and trouble to meet with me. I can't tell you how much it added to the trip and how much I enjoyed each meeting. Now, someday, we shall all have to meet in one place--oh say the Natural History Museum Paleontological wing, and I can give you a general tour and analysis of the invertebrate life in the fossil hall. I can provide minimal insights into the vertebrates--but I think we'd all have a great time. Thanks once again for the fantastic experience.

Now, T.S.--I'm going to be in Cleveland Thursday--want to run up from your abode? Just kidding--won't have time to even visit the Natural History museum there (They have a great Dunkleosteus(or here--fierce Devonian Fish) or my usual Polka Barn hangouts or even Stan Hywet Hall. Oh well, it is, after all, a business trip.

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December 1, 2003

Back from a Long Break

After hellish travel and nearly 16 hours in a vehicle, I'm back and ready to talk again. I'm still processing much that happened in the course of the week and will probably talk some about it as things progress.

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November 16, 2003

. . . and Beyond

Nearly immediately upon return, I'll be visiting Tampa, Palm Beach, and Cleveland. (Business all)

I'm hoping to scrape together the money to go to the OCDS convention in Tampa in January. The roster of speakers will include Fr. Stephen Payne (who is presently editor-in-chief at ICS) and Kiernan Kavanaugh--half of the team responsible for one of the most lucid translations of the Spanish Mystical Doctors. Please pray that I can somehow find the funds (and perhaps more critically the time) to do this.

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. . . to Washington . . .

Where I will return at the end of this week. I'll spend the weekend, and probably a number of weekdays, at Father Jim's parish (Our Lady of the Angels in Woodbridge), though more than likely, not at his Masses--depends, I suppose on the rotation. Most days I will visit Mount Vernon, Gunston Hall, and other such stops, with at least one or two days slotted for trips downtown to keep Samuel up on the dinosaurs etc.

I'd relish the opportunity to meet any bloggers in the D.C. area, but also recognize the limitations incumbent upon it being Thanksgiving week.

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From New York . . .

Returned from New York where all seemed to go very well. The last time I was there was some thirty years ago when my entire family left for Washington. I remember New York as a dirty, dingy, dark, and dangerous city. The people were cold and distant when they weren't downright rude. This may still be true in part, but it wasn't my experience. Our host very kindly treated us to an evening of theatre (I know you're dying of curiosity--The Producers. Our first choice was Wicked, but the seats were all poor. For the show we saw right front Orchestra aisle, two rows back--spectacular.) After the show we walked back to our hotel--thirteen short blocks away, one of them through Times Square, and I never felt so much as mildly menaced--not true for the time I left--for documentation see Midnight Cowboy. I'm sure there are parts of the city for which this would not hold true, again, not my experience.

Everyone I encountered in my trip was at least pleasant and polite, most were openly friendly and helpful. I can't even begin to say how far this has gone to remove some pernicious misconceptions.

While there, I wad able to take in The Metropolitan Museum of Art and AMNH--as it is known among professionals in the field. I saw two fantastic Vermeers, one of which--"The Allegory of Faith" I spent some time with. There was a nice, if somewhat high-strung and overwrought El Greco exhibit. But the highlight for me was room after room after room of Egyptian antiquities, including, of course, an entire ancient Egyptian Temple. I could probably live in this wing of the museum.

All in all, a very exhausting, exciting, and rewarding trip.

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November 11, 2003

The Immediate Future--Request for Prayers

For the next couple of days I'll be on a business trip to New York City. Please pray for the safety of the flight and the success of the trip.

As a result, I may not have access to a machine for blogging for a couple of days (although I may, it's very difficult to tell). Expect that there will be little here for a few days.

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November 3, 2003

Saturday's Fête

I spent much of Saturday afternoon celebrating with other authors and editors the new issue of the local Historical Society's publication It's About Time. I was blessed to have two poems published in the journal. We also had a brief presentation by a local author who is doing guides to the lesser known aspects of our little central Florida world. Anyway--there are two more small poems set free--we'll see what other opportunities arise in the near future.

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November 2, 2003

A Personal Request

I provide this link to a poem I wrote after my mother's death and I ask everyone in St. Blogs to remember her today in your own intentions for Mass, if she should need the prayers. Thank you.

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November 1, 2003

Schedule

Today is the Carmelite meeting, followed closely by a celebratory luncheon for my wife, overlapping with a celebration of the second issue of the local historical society's publication (this time I have some poetry being published rather than acting as editor). A full and wonderful day.

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October 31, 2003

Apologies

I don't know that I could ever fall completely silent so long as our good friend Dylan needed our prayers. I know I bring his name up too infrequently, but please remember him always.

Also, in easing the pain and perhaps anxiety of the indictment that I feel, I owe several people apologies for the hurt, pain, and confusion I have (I believe mostly inadvertantly) spread. Most particularly--Mr. Luse, who was more than a gentleman about the whole thing, Mary H., Ms. Moss (I forget which as both have chosen P-flowers--but I think Pansy) and others who may have been more than a bit bruised by my strident tones over the past couple of weeks.

Also, it is not so much by way of apology, but by way of explanation--I have noted that I do not seem to express my thoughts very clearly. This was made crystal clear by a post I read elsewhere in blogdom earlier this week in which the poster read clearly what I had written, but I had failed to write clearly what I had intended. It is lapses like this that seem quite frequent in recent weeks that make me ponder whether I am not one of the great offenders that Ms. Paglia indicts--perhaps a greater offender for the offense of knowing better and still committing the act. A great deal may be excused by ignorance--but as Jesus said, "To whom much is given, much is expected."

I will try, to the extent possible in the limited duration I give this daily exercise to be more courteous and welcoming, less controversial and confusing, and more coherent and clear in the formulations of what I say. In addition, I will refrain from comment elsewhere--not entirely, but certainly I shall not comment with the abandon I have hitherto engaged in. It is in commenting that the worst offenses against the language and other people occur. Comments are not editable for the occasional linguistic excesses and hyperbole, whereas blog entries are.

Once again please forgive my haziness over the past couple of weeks--attribute it to the solar prominences and flares. I will endeavor to do better and to walk a good deal more quietly.

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October 13, 2003

Public Confession

To keep me honest. Four times today I have been tempted to respond to a comment elsewhere that seemed somewhat ill-tempered and ill-considered. I drafted four or so responses and deleted them each time. What point is there to continuing a discussion with people who do not wish to discuss but who instead insist upon their own way? It seems that very few nowdays are wiling "to walk a mile in their neighbor's mocassins." In fact, many won't walk six inches. On matters of faith and morals, this makes good sense. On all other matters, it strikes me as both rude and ill-considered.

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Reading Group

Our reading group nicely disposed of Harry Potter with some comments you'd expect--many decrying the lack of literary substance and the formulaic nature of the stories (both of which points I tend to disagree with). But more interestingly, we chose our book for next month and it took a bit of wrangling to work it around, but it is a wonderful possibility. We'll be reading "The Merchant of Venice" along with a book by John Gross called, "Shylock."

"The Merchant of Venice" is a wonderful play because of the way it shows up the essential shortcomings of most Christians. Portia's caskets are a prime example--the choice of the three is obvious, and yet she needs to help the person she wants to choose the correct casket (if I remember correctly). And then there's the impassioned and gorgeous "The Quality of Mercy" speech followed immediately both by Shylock showing none and then by Portia as judge showing little-to-none. It can be read as an elegant indictment of Christian hypocrisy in action (I suppose). But then, that's the dangerous attraction of Shakespeare--it may probably also be read as a Marxist parable of class struggle and a freudian analysis of the war between the sexes. I had a very wise professor once tell the class, "Whatever methodology or system you bring into contact with Shakespeare will light up--the trick is to read him without any prior conceptions, to find out what he actually said."

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Erik's Interview Questions

Erik very kindly agreed to write some interview questions, and these are very valuable and very helpful to reflection on vocation and goal.

1. Steven, you are obviously keenly interested in and deeply knowledgeable of poetry. What do you expect from a poem? There are several things I expect from a poem--fresh, surprising, original language is one of the first; however it is not sufficient. The language poets and the concrete poets could all do language, but the poems rarely emerge from the merely experimental into the meaningful. What that requires is a moment of removal from reality. Every great poem should yank you out of yourself, even if only for a moment, turn you around and allow you to see what the world looks like from somewhere else. They are epiphanies. This can happen in a number of ways--through sheer force of rhythm and language or through startling imagery. The beginning of "Ode to a Nightingale", "My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains my sense. . ." starts you on the course. Eliot was a master of this, "I have measured out my life in coffeespoons." "Mixing memory and desire" "This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper." "I have heard the mermaids singing. . ." and so forth. Some poets were absolute masters at these moments. The best of Stevens, Pound, Eliot, Wilbur, and others move you to this new place. Sylvia Plath does it rarely, Anne Sexton more rarely yet. Overall I don't much care for modern poetry as it has largely become either utterly confessional telling me too much about the poet and too little about the world, or academic--intricate, ultimately meaningless word games and puzzles designed to appeal to other academics, but with no real resonances or meaning to the casual reader. It would be very difficult to memorize a single line of most modern poets--whereas poets of the Glorious 17th Century (of which see my obsesssion) this is patently untrue--their words and images are tremendously powerful.

2. Who is the most striking example of a Catholic poet that you can think of, off the top of your head? I mean Catholic in terms of spirit of the poetry, not in terms of the actual confessional status of the poet (for instance, I consider Rembrandt one of the great Catholic painters, in spite of the fact that he was a member of the Reformed Protestant Church). Please explain. I think of three right off, two catholic and one non. Richard Crashaw and Robert Southwell are both of the confession and tremendously Catholic in the range, nature, and depth of their poetic utterances. Richard Crashaw is particularly moving and interesting when one looks at the epigrams and the poems about St. Teresa of Avila. And of course, Robert Southwell is nearly the perfect anti-Puritan. Everything one might despise in the writings of say a Jonathan Edwards is turned on its head. The whole theology is there, intact, and utterly Catholic. But one who strikes me as strangely Catholic in themes and obsessions is Wallace Stevens. Stevens claimed to be an Atheist up until near his death at which point he joined the Church. However, all along, his poems show an interest in both modernist themes (The Blue Guitar) and with very Catholic concerns ("Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock" and "Sunday Morning.") I can't read Wallace without thinking of him as the consummate Catholic Poet--he just remained ignorant of it for a long time.

3. In your field (modern science in general, and museum crowds in particular) you must be a rara avis as a faithful and devout Catholic. What are the conflicts that come up and how do you deal with them?

It actually presents almost no trouble at all because I am not a literalist and do not read anything in church teaching that demands a literal interpretation of the Bible. Therefore, I have no problem with the notion of evolution, but a tremendous difficulty with the idea that it is undirected--for example Stephen Jay Gould's contigency theory--which states that if one thing had been off just a little bit, all of evolutionary history would have been changed. Well, this is a philosophical specualtion, not a piece of science, because it is essentially untestable except within a logical framework. And within that logical framework it suffers because of Chaotic dynamics and the notion of "self-organizing systems" and systems redundancy. So I would argue that Gould's contingency theory is simply a marxist frame aroound a paleontological speculation. My frame is theist and Catholic. If evolution is the mechanism by which things came to be, and the prepoderance of the evidence suggests that it is so, I beleive that the whole path was directed and guided by God's gracious hand. That is to say everything that is was created through this mechanism and so God is the unique creator of all things. However, this is also not science and not a testable hypothesis. I have revelation to guide intellect, but science operates on empirical evidence outside of authority (in science, arguements from authority are considered the weakesst). Thus, what I believe and know to be true in the core of my being really has no bearing on the science. Scientists start with the null hypothesis--undirected--and most don't bother to search for any evidence that it may be otherwise.

So this long answer says basically that science is science and religion is religion. Another of Gould's theories or philosophical proposals was that of non-overlapping magisteria. That is to say that science cannot presume to offer the answers that religion does and when religion offers to answer the questions science asks it often ends up looking foolish. St. Robert Bellarmine's famous statement regarding the Galileo affair is appropriate, "The Church does not tell us how the Heavens go, but how to go to Heaven." I do think that Gould has something with the nonoverlapping magisteria--although I'd probably refer to it more as well-defined jurisdictions. Science can tell us if something is possible--cloning, genetic manipulation, utter destruction of everything in existence, but it cannot state whether that possibility should be acted upon. The problem in recent days is that pundits and blowhards like Francis Crick, James Watson, and Richard Dawkins overstep their bounds and think that they can make moral decisions on utilitarian principles.

Anyway, I've gone on at great length. Suffice to say that I have had almost no problem reconciling religion and science and it doesn't require sleight-of-hand or even any very rapid fancy footwork, simply faith and tenacity in the face of those who would like you to think otherwise.

4. If you could be any kind of tree… No, just kidding. The real question: has the writing of Teilhard de Chardin influenced you much? I do not mean this as a gotcha question. We all know that he had some iffy ideas, but he was deadly serious in his attempts to reconcile anthropology and theology. How have you interacted with his better ideas (that is, if you have given him some serious study)?

Not at all. This is one of those places, where unfortunately, the overlapping of the magisteria is such that I have been hard-pressed to figure out what to make of Teilhard. As you well know, he was intimately involved in the Piltdown Hoax, although he may have been unaware of the forged fossil evidences. This kind of involvement put me off of his other writings. In addition, I have to admit they have a kind of breezy new-age atmosphere about them that has been so readily embraced by nearly every fringe-element pseudo-science religious group around that it is very difficult for me to sufficiently divorce him from his effects. The long-term result is that I have not made any real effort to study his work.

5. What direction do you see poetry going in? Any particular poets that do it for you these days?
To paraphrase my favorite Episcopagan Bishop--John Shelby Spong, "Why Poetry Must Change or Die." I think there is a swing back toward more classical forms, more metered and rhymed material, but I don't know that the academic school of poetry hasn't so badly damaged the core of the genre that it might not ever recover. Poets like Rita Dove and Billy Collins do almost nothing to advance poetry. Dana Gioia, on the other hand, presents a wonderful, enlightening, and powerful rhythmic and poetic stance that is the harbinger of the return of the memorable. Like much of modern Art, if modern poetry does not change its long-term direction there is no real hope for its continuation. It has become in large part the reading of choice of a small portion of academia, with almost no popular base. But it can be redeemed from that and there are a great many poets working today who promise just such a resuce. As much as I don't care for Billy Collins, I find the approachability of his work promising. It is approachable and still above the level of mere doggerel. As for Rita Dove, once again, very approachable, fine stuff, just not normally transcendent. I like Linda Pastan and Maxine Kumin, both of whom write very approachable lyrics. I've gone on too long--basically the direction of modern poetry largely depends on whether it can once again find a large popular base. I'm hoping it can, but I don't really think it likely.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:32 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 26, 2003

Interblogview

Interview Questions graciously offered by Jay of DeoOmnisGloria.com

Flos Carmeli Questions
1) As you eloquently stated in Gross Incivility, “every story is told from a point of view”; What is your personal ‘point of view’?
My point of view is that of humble pilgrim who has been wrong much more than he has been right. So I know full well that it is possible in good will to hold very bad and incorrect notions of the ways things are and should be. I write as a father who waited a very long time to become a father and who is delighted with that grace perhaps more than anything in my life. I write as one who has no real home here and no place that I really call my own. My point of view is that of deliberate outcast, involuntary participant in much of the madness of society and one who wishes more than anything else to truly make present the reality of the love God has for each person.

2) You blog seems to focus a great deal on spirituality. Who has had the greatest impact on your personality spiritual journey (besides the Trinity)?

This is a surprisingly difficult question. I think the answer might be St. Paul. Every other saint or spiritual writer I have read has been a kind of footnote to the revelations Paul granted us about the working of God's grace and the necessity of prayer. When I read St. John of the Cross, St. Thérèse, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Louis de Montfort, any Saint postdating Paul, I hear his words echoing and reechoing. While doctrine has become broader and more nuanced, it seems that everything is present inthose epistles Paul wrote. And a close runner-up is St. John of the wonderful Gospel, and the Letters--again, whatever has been said about God's love, was said there first--it seems. (Oh, and I really like St. James, possibly because Luther had so little liking for him.)

3) Can you explain more fully the lay Carmelite order for those of us with lesser knowledge (I’m a convert also, so I have some claim to ‘ignorance’)?

A lay Carmelite is a member of the Carmelite order who has pledged to live out the Carmelite vocation in ordinary life. We follow a seperate rule, tailored for people who have families and workaday concerns, but we share in the spirituality and the gifts of Carmelite Spirituality. Any Catholic in good standing eighteen years of age or older may become a member of the Carmelites, eitehr OCDS (discalced or reformed Carmelites--St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila) or T. O. Carm. (Carmelites of the Ancient Observance--most prominently St. Mary Magadalene da Pazzi).

4) How does a Palentologist with an interest in fractals and chaos know so much about poetry and Catholic literature?

When I first went to college, I went with no idea of what I was doing there except collecting degrees and learning. So I received a Bachelor of Arts in English, studied for an MFA in poetry, a Bachelor of Science in Geology and went on to graduate school to continue study in Geology, Medieval and Renaissance Literature, James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, and seventeenth Century Poetry. Ultimately unable to make up my mind I did my PhD work on "Non-linear dynamics and the periodicity of extinctions with a consideration of Silurian Reef Paleoecology." My master's thesis was on "The Functional Morphology of the Platycrinitid Stem." I've published a number of papers on crinoid functional morphology and delivered a number of talks on the question of the proper analysis of the supposed peridocity of extinctions observed in the fossil record.

5) Who would you like to see as the next Pope (I couldn’t resist)?

I can only say that I am enormously relieved this question is one that I need deal with only in theory. I would like to see as the next Pope a man informed by the teaching of the Church who heeds the guidance of the Holy Spirit. I would like to see a person who has the courage of his convictions, rightly formed, in the ordinary and universal magisterium of the Church. I would like to see a man who does not have as part of his agenda the "reformation" of the Church according to a modernist/postmodernist agenda. In short, I would like to see as Pope the man whom God will give us, who will guide, nuture, and protect the Church against the onslaught of the world and who will speak boldly and stridently against the present evils of the world.

In accord with the agreement made in answering these questions, I offer to interview anyone who cares to ask. E-mail me or leave a note in the comments box, and I will happily try to think of five reasonable quesitons to send to you. (Or unreasonable questions. I have been known to ask interviewees their favorite read-aloud for children with reasons why.)

Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:23 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

September 25, 2003

Exhibit Opening

This evening I get to attend the Grand Opening of the Exhibit for which I have written most of the text. (You know, the little plaques you read as you go along.) It was a wonderful and aggravating experience and I learned a great deal more than I ever cared to know about certain aspects of flight. (The great Bernoulli v. Newton debate, reciprocating v. impact (reaction) engines, and other such.)

So now I get to go to the grand opening and hobnob with the Mayor and all the glitterati (if the burg in which I live actually has such.) I'll be sure to report tomorrow. (If it's interesting--i.e. don't expect much of a report.)

Posted by Steven Riddle at 3:12 PM | TrackBack

August 21, 2003

Brag Session--Feel Free to Ignore

Brag Session--Feel Free to Ignore

I thought I might offer an explanation as to why things are so sparse here these days. I've been asked by the local science center to assist in the writing of all of the display copy for their newest temporary exhibit. Such stuff shall die away, of course, when the exhibit is gone, the ephemeral copy is lost--such is the way of the world. But what a thrill to be able to write for so large a public, even though most will give no thought to it having been written and having a person who put together the thoughts expressed. How many of us stop to consider that someone puts together all that text that accompanies an exhibit? Nevertheless, it is a rare thrill and a privilege to be able to contribute in such a way to the education of adults and to that of children as well.

Also, I have been tapped by the local historical society to assist in their next publication of a bulletin. I'm contributing several poems and have assisted in the past as an editor--I hope to do so in the future as well.

So, I've been maxed out recently with writing. You'll forgive the paucity of what is here presented, and perhaps its disjointed nature. This week I also have to prepare our local Carmelite Newsletter, review the website we've just started, and prepare for a family visit.

Nevertheless, as I said yesterday, I write because I cannot do otherwise. The thought of not writing is overwhelming. If I did not write I would be only a shadow of what I am, and presently I am only a shadow of what I should be.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:56 AM

August 4, 2003

Something a Little Bit Scary

Something a Little Bit Scary

Please pray for me in my capacity as Regional Formation Director. At our meeting Saturday I had a number of people come to me and request my assistance as a spiritual guide/director. I do not know if this is within my capacity. Certainly I can listen and pray with people, but whether or not I can guide them, I cannot know. Whether I am being called to this, I do not yet know. I suppose by virtue of being formation director, there is at least the implication of that--but it is frightening and sobering. A friend commented that "Just because you can't follow your own advice doesn't mean you can't advise with authority." Hardly a ringing endorsement.

Anyway, please pray for anyone who consults me that I might at least direct them somewhere where they can truly get the assistance they need to progress in the spiritual life.

This is utterly unexpected, but then, I am sensing a complete transformation of the group as we move forward in study that is really an amazing evidence of the Holy Spirit at work. Each member of this group has the potential to become a real spiritual dynamo--I am constantly amazed at the integrity and the real power of prayer this group displays. I am humbled to be part of it. God is moving in His own way, and I am privileged to be witnessing it and participating in it. (Or, at a minimum, I am at least not getting in the way.)

Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:00 AM

July 16, 2003

Sanibel Trip

Sanibel Trip

As you can tell from the post below, the Sanibel trip was a wonderful and unexpected success. I have been blessed beyond words by it. I am also blessed by the realization that it was well that I was not brought up in such a place because I could not possibly be doing what I do now. The extraordinary beauty, charm, and peace of such a place is so strong a magnet that I honestly do not think I could ever voluntarily leave.

St. Isabel's church on Sanibel was a small but lovely building. I always evaluate a congregation by the prayers of the faithful. I listen for some reference to our leader and "respect for life." By this standard, I'm afraid St. Isabel's didn't pass muster--no mention whatsoever, which doesn't mean anyting for certain, but at least sets up the radar.

The beach is a magnificent place to experience God in all of His wonder and beauty. I am thankful for the momentary opportunity afforded by this break.

I hope all is well at St. Blog's and in my absence nothing self-destructed. Being one of the mainstays, I know that the equilibrium must have been threatened and thrown off--so even if everyone remains silent, i will be assured that everything has been restored to the way it should have been. (:D)

By the way, in mere days, I celebrate my first full year here. It has been a fantastic growing experience and I thank everyone of you who have made it so fulfilling a time. May we all continue in being blessings to one another.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:06 AM

July 10, 2003

Pleased to Announce

Pleased to Announce

That the home machine has been fixed, and I once again have access. Praise God!

On the downside, I opted to install a new operating system (actually, it will be two operating systems once I put Linux in the separate partition created for it.) So I'm having some system maladjustments as I get used to the new OS.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:29 AM

July 7, 2003

Back After a Weekend Hiatus

Back After a Weekend Hiatus

Yes, and still have no computer at home. Will not have at least until Thursday when I shall have to quickly bring it up to speed and attempt to get online before a brief sojourn to Sanibel.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:45 AM

July 3, 2003

Notice

Notice

Due to a tragic and ill-timed hard disk crash, my computer at home is inoperable, so there will be no posting for the next several days and I will be effectively out of communication for computer contact. My apologies.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:29 AM

May 8, 2003

An Opportunity

Events in my life have arranged themselves in such a way as to be able to take advantage of the opportunities offered in the passage below:

from Ascent of Mount Carmel Book 1 Chapter 13 St. John of the Cross

6. Strive always to prefer, not that which is easiest, but that which is most difficult;

Not that which is most delectable, but that which is most unpleasing;

Not that which gives most pleasure, but rather that which gives least;

Not that which is restful, but that which is wearisome;

Not that which is consolation, but rather that which is disconsolateness;

Not that which is greatest, but that which is least;

Not that which is loftiest and most precious, but that which is lowest and most despised;

Not that which is a desire for anything, but that which is a desire for nothing;

Strive to go about seeking not the best of temporal things, but the worst.

Strive thus to desire to enter into complete detachment and emptiness and poverty, with respect to everything that is in the world, for Christ's sake.

And I can tell you that this is a lot better in the abstract than in the concrete. Moreover, I suspect that it is a lot better voluntarily entered into rather than being offered such opportunities. However, the Lord has a plan even if it seems obscure to me, and so I can avail myself of this opportunity or not at my choice. It seems that whichever choice I make in the event will fulfill the requirements of this passage--so, that is the long way of asking for your prayers and your thoughts as I enter into the next couple of weeks.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:06 AM

July 21, 2002

Forming New Churches

This post from Sean Gallagher's Archive brought to mind an amusing anecdote regarding the formation of churches. He quotes a reader as saying, "Very, very few churches are started from disputes." I don't know about the truth of this; however, I do have an illuminating story regarding one new church that did form as a result of a dispute.

Some time ago my grandparents (whom I love very much, and so this should not be read as a criticism of them) belonged to a small church in a midwestern state. This church met mostly in homes and in such public places as they could find accommodations. I don't believe they had an ordained minister, but all the men took turns preparing teachings for the entire group. One Sunday the teaching centered around the Pauline admonition that, "Women should not wear those things that pertaineth to a man," and what the implications of this might be today. Somewhere in the course of discussion, someone asked or brought up the subject of pantyhose, saying that they were very much like pants. This particular point of discussion became very heated and over the next several months was introduced and reintroduced. Apparently some went so far as to denounce any woman showing up to the meeting wearing hose under the supposition that they must be pantyhose. Finally the church split into two groups--those that said that wearing pantyhose was a grievous offense to God, and those that said that God probably didn't give much thought to the matter of pantyhose, having other things on his mind. My grandmother and her sister ended up in opposite camps, with my ever-sensible grandmother being threatened with hellfire for the sheer temerity of wearing pantyhose (pun intended).

This story is true. I don't know all of the details, but I keep it in my treasury of "protestantism gone wild" stories. One thing it demonstrates profoundly and that is the wisdom of the Church's teaching on the interpretation of scripture. I won't say this can't happen here, but if one interprets scripture in accord with Church teaching, it is far more difficult for the Church to split over pantyhose.

Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:40 AM