I Heart Clergy Persons

Over all the years of my so called career I worked, off and on, with Methodist ministers. I love and respect the vast majority of them. And there would be no way to adequately express the loving feelings of awe and respect I have for the three ministers currently at my church.  Oh, and I almost forgot, I was married to a Methodist minister for 44 years. 

All this to say I have very positive feelings for my clergy friends and for the stressful career path they chose - or chose them.  In my opinion, a minister or priest who doesn't feel "called" isn't going to make it.

So I was pleasantly surprised to read about a recent study funded by the University of Chicago that says clergy tend to be, of all professionals,  the happiest and most fulfilled in their jobs.  87 percent described themselves as "very satisfied."  It makes sense because the work is all about helping people - in this life and the next. 

At the same time that this positive information came from the University of Chicago another study, coming out of Duke Divinity School, tells us that clergy persons tend to be the most unhealthy and overweight.

This makes sense to me as well.  Most clergy I know and admire work way too hard, are under way too much stress and tend to put other peoples needs above their own on a regular basis.  Not to mention the occasional church member who's one goal in life is to torture his or her minister.  I used to tease ministers I worked with saying that "if you don't have high blood pressure you're not doing your job."  Of course that's not true.  But working night and day and being "on" all the time seems to be the norm.

Not to mention the food that's forced on them by well meaning parishioners.    A Lutheran minister here in Minnesota was quoted as saying, "If I could send a message to my congregation (concerning gifts) it would be - Think Fruit Basket!"

My selfish prayer is that my ministers stay alive, healthy and happy (where they are) for many years to come - or at least longer than me.

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Memory Issues

This morning I attended a writing class at the Edina Library.  It was funded by the Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund.  Like most writing classes, I was challenged to write for five minutes at a time about various subjects the instructor presented. 

Like what happened to me when I was 20 years old...But I couldn't remember much of anything that happened to me at that age.  So I wrote about that, and how a bit of memory loss is probably a good thing.

Certainly not like Alzheimer's or other forms of dementia that ravage our brains, but the convenient memory loss of those things that we really don't want or need to rehash.

By the way, I found it sobering to read in this morning's paper that Glen Campbell has Alzheimer's.  I had a little crush on him for a while around the time that he was a lineman for the county.

On the other side of the coin, there was a "60 Minutes" segment last Sunday about people who remember everything that's ever happened to them, including dates and times.  Only a hand full of folks have been documented with having this gift.  One of those  interviewed was Mary Lou Henner.  What was fascinating to me was that not one of them, although they all seemed exceptionally bright, was using this gift for great accomplishments and they all had a mild form of OCD.  It appeared they needed the OCD to keep their thoughts organized.

But the most interesting was the knowledge that the painful  things they experienced, say, in their teens, stayed with them forever. 

So, like I said, I'm kind of glad I don't have total recall about everything.


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Tummy Talk

I brought two pairs of black pants to Minnesota.  One small, one bigger.  Last night I was getting ready to have dinner with friends.  I put on the small pants.  Yes, I could button them.  Barely. 

I'm ashamed to say that I've fretted about the size of my stomach since I can remember.  I weighed 104 lbs. when I married (the first time) and I remember feeling self conscious in my dress.  I distinctly remember "sucking it in." 

The only times I felt OK about the size of my stomach were during my four pregnancies.  The minute I "knew" I let it all hang out for the next seven and a half months. 

I've done thousands, maybe millions of sit ups.  For the last two months I've done crunches five days a week.  How has my stomach changed over the last five decades?  Not much - until the last couple of years,  when it began expanding a bit.

Is what I've just told you not the dumbest thing you ever heard?  Are you saying to yourself, "she's nuts?"

I know that you're not!  Because I know most of you feel the same.  But that doesn't mean it's not dumb.  Because it is.

By the way, last night I changed to the bigger pants - and enjoyed my dinner.


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It Ain't Over Till the Fat Lady Sings

Do your remember Kate Smith?  She was a great American singer who started out, early in her career, singing the last song at all kinds of events.  When you heard "God Bless America" you knew the ballgame was over.  She became one of the most beloved singers in the country.  She was also quite heavy set.  Hence the phrase, "It' ain't over till the fat lady sings."

That saying has served me well over the years.  I think about it when things look hopeless.  I think about it when things look promising.  Some folks get happy or spend the money way too soon.  Some folks throw in the towel way too soon.

When my older son first went into commercial real estate he never celebrated until after the closing.

For those people who are sure of the outcome of the Casey Anthony trial, "It ain't over...


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Micky D's

One time when Dave and I were just friends he called to tell me he'd just had dinner at Mac and Don's Supper Club.  I thought "Wow."  But, of course, he was referring to McDonald's. 

Everybody knows McDonald's is the Supreme Junk Food King of the Universe. 

We eat there a lot.

For breakfast I usually have oatmeal with fruit and maple brown sugar.  Yummy.  It has 290 calories and 160 mgs of sodium.  But this morning I had an Egg McMuffin without cheese.  It has 320 calories. 

Occasionally, if I'm still hungry, I have a Fruit n Yogurt Parfait.  It comes in at 130 calories, with 55 mgs of sodium.

My new favorite lunch is the Asian Salad with Grilled Chicken at 270 calories.  I add 1/2 pkg. of Newman's Own Low Fat Sesame Ginger Dressing, 45 calories.  But it is high in sodium.

The salad leaves a hot, spicy taste in my mouth so, occasionally, I top it off with a Vanilla Reduced Fat Ice Cream Cone - but I ask them to give me only half the ice cream so it comes in at 75 calories.

I know all this because each tray at McDonald's is lined with a place mat giving nutrition information for everything they sell.  I enjoy their food and still stay well within my 1,300 per day calorie count. 

Yes, I could order the Big Breakfast with Hotcakes for 1,090 calories.  By the way, this is without butter and syrup.  And a Carmel Frappe for 550 calories.  But this would take me well over my calorie limit for the whole day. 

Yesterday morning we ate with old friends at the downtown Minneapolis Marriott.  I had a fancy dish with eggs atop all kinds of beautiful mystery food.  It was good but I'll bet if the calorie count was next to it on the menu I would never have ordered it.  And it costs $16.00. 

My McDonald's oatmeal is $1.99.  
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Mothers

I had a conversation today with a woman my age who'd just been with her 95 year old mother.  When women my age have mothers who are still alive and kicking (literally) it's usually a mixed bag of blessings.  Most folks who live that long are strong individuals. 

But even when I hear my friends fuss a bit about how their moms sweetly manipulate them, like

...Please don't go on vacation because I'm afraid I'll die while you're gone...

Or when moms are feisty with their daughters and nice to everybody else,
Or feisty with everybody else and nice to them (so daughters feel guilty leaving them,)
Or when mom (who's pushing 100 years old) sleeps with a loaded gun...

I have to admit that I feel just a little bit jealous.

I never had a mom.  Yes, I was conceived and was born but my mom was taken away to a tuberculous sanitarium when my brother and I were toddlers and she died there a few years later.  Almost all I remember about her is seeing this beautiful woman waving to me from the window. 

In order to survive I had to put the concept of "missing my mom" out of my mind for the next several decades.  Most of them I spent being a mom.  And trying to be a good one - but it was hard sometimes, having figure it out as I went along.

But now that I had the time I occasionally wonder what having a mom would have been like.  I wonder if, right now, I'd have a sense of humor about my 95 year old mom driving me crazy.


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Embracing Mystery

Mysticism - Belief in a reality surpassing normal human understanding or experience.  - The Free Dictionary


As some of you know, my faith can be defined as much by what I don't know as what I know.  Years ago, with the help of loving spiritual friends, I became comfortable with the concept of embracing mystery.  I'm very comfortable answering questions with "I don't know."  Because I don't.   To me, that's why it's called "faith" and "belief."

The last few days I've been reading about mystics.  Specifically Hildegard of Bingen and other women of her ilk who lived around the 11th century.  They spent their lives searching for spiritual truths. 

Unlike the guy who says, "I know what I know.  End of discussion!"

The word mystic comes from the Greek word mystes.  It's the same root that gives us mystery.

As Jan Richardson says, "It means shutting up long enough to notice God shuffling around in the daily events that make up our lives...But this path requires us not only to know god but also to be willing to live with our not-knowing of God."


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"Super 8" Home Movies

Did you ever, when you were young or your kids were young, make a scripted movie?  Did you ever put an old chenille bedspread over four or five neighborhood kids crawling around on the floor to make them look like a monster?

We've all seen old Super 8 family movie reels.  But the ones that were the most fun were those that had a script.  Our own personal adventure movies!

With that in mind, Dave and I saw the new movie "Super 8" yesterday.  It's about 6 kids who make a Super 8 horror movie.  It's about more than that - but I didn't react much to the overriding plot. 

The movie opened this weekend and was # one at the box office.  We probably wouldn't have chosen to go but we're in a holding pattern with the house so we were killing time. 

This film was produced by Steven Spielberg and directed by J. J. Abrams, both home Super 8 movie kids who grew up to change the face of movie story telling. "Super 8" works for me as a wonderful feel good film.  It's a small town adventure full of passion and heart.  It's sweet, funny and scary. The kid actors are terrific, especially Joel Courtney, an unknown from Idaho. 

If you see it, be sure to stay through the credits to the end.  You'll be rewarded by getting to see the kids' home movie.  And it will make you want to make your own.

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In Case There's a Change in the Weather

Being a long time resident of Florida, I could be a good meteorologist.  For instance, here's the forecast for Florida, every day, May through September:

High - 92 with afternoon thunderstorms.  That's it.  Count on it.

Here in Minnesota it's a different story.  Today, June 10th, the high temperature is supposed to be 57 degrees.  What's up with that?  But wait.  On Tuesday it was 103 degrees.  The streets were buckling, cars were on fire, air conditioners went kaflooey, etc.  I could say "all hell broke loose" because that's what it felt like.  There was a real tragedy when a caretaker left an old man outside in his wheelchair for three hours and he died.

But, of course, Dave and his buddies played golf on Tuesday just like they have for 30 years.  Their only concession was they wore their cute shorts instead of  long pants. 

These Minnesotans know how to go with the flow - weather wise.


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Trouble is Dead

Such sad news to hear that Leona Helmsley's little doggie "Trouble" died in December.  He was twelve years old.  That would make him about 84 human years old.  So he had a long life.

And a good one, apparently.  Remember that when Leona died in 2003 she left Trouble 12 million dollars in her will.  A judge later dropped that to 2 million.  But still....

Trouble was able to hire his own full time security guard and spent 8 thousand dollars a year on grooming.  Carl Lekic, the general manager of the Helmsley Sandcastle hotel in Sarasota was paid 60 thousand dollars for being Trouble's companion.

So, all in all, I would say that most of the people on the planet would feel very grateful to have this dog's life.


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Midnight in Paris

I love Woody Allen movies.  I love everything Woody Allen writes.  I think I've read everything he's ever written.  Yesterday we saw his latest movie.  About three minutes into it I said to Dave, "I love this movie."

Will you love it?  Here's a little test: 

Are you afraid of death?
Do you love Paris?
Do you love Cole Porter lyrics?
Do you love art and literature?
Do you love subtle, intellectual humor?
Are you a romantic?

If so you'll love this movie.  Owen Wilson plays a writer named Gil. (But we know, as always, he's a Woody Allen surrogate.)  He's frustrated and unhappy - then falls down the rabbit hole - actually, he's invited into a great car by Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald - and he's off to the 1920s,where he immediately begins to pal  around with expatriates like the Fitzgeralds, Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, and on and on. 

Here's an example of the humor:  Gil,  chatting with T.S. Eliot,  says something like, "Where I come from (California) they've measured out their lives with coke spoons."  If you don't get this, you may not be thrilled with the humor.  But still...

This movie is a total treat for the eyes and ears.


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Would You Like Me to Take Your Picture?

When Dave sees families taking photos he usually walks right up and says, "Would you like me to take the picture so you can all be in it?"  He especially enjoys offering his photo skills to young couples. 

Last Sunday we were with friends at the Mississippi Rive Lock and Dam in Minneapolis.  Interesting spot.  There's a public observation deck for watching the big water fall and the lock itself. 

While we were wondering around we saw a young middle eastern couple.  She was in a full burka.  We all smiled and he smiled back.  Not sure about the woman because her mouth was covered but she had beautiful, expressive eyes.

A few minutes later we saw the young man taking her picture.  I was wondering about the protocol.  I wasn't sure if women in burkas were even allowed to have their photos taken.  I wasn't sure if we should be watching. 

But then Dave walked right up to the young man and said, "Would you like me to take the picture so you can both be in it?"  Now I'm thinking, Yikes!  But the man handed Dave his camera. 

Afterwards they were sitting on a bench and Dave walked over and plopped right down beside the young woman and started chatting away.  She said nothing!  I'm thinking "Now, Dave you've gone too far."

But the young man who'd been on his cell phone leaned over, smiled, and told Dave two things.  They were on their honeymoon - and she didn't speak English. 

Whee!  An international incident was averted.


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Summer Reading

I traditionally read a boat load of books in the summer.  Some dificult, some important, some mysteries, some silly.  I am usually sorry when I try to read "women's novels."  Last week I read one by Karen White and I was sorry.  Then read Never Change by Elizabeth Berg.  It was good - and dealt with the serious issue of euthanasia  in a sensitive and realistic way: 

As you know, I'm currently reading a meditation book called In the Sanctuary of Women by my friend, Jan Richardson.  Extremely meaningful.  Also rereading the New Testament. 

And I've just started a John Sanford novel, Shadow Prey.  His second in a long list of "Prey" mysteries.  They're set in the Twin Cities.  I've read most of them since I started spending summers here in 2006.

But the most interesting and different books are a series of graphic novels I stumbled on to by accident.  Many of you may be familiar with Art Spiegleman and his Pulitzer Prize winning Maus series but I was not. 

They are brutally moving works of art.  Art Spiegleman tells the terrifying story - in cartoon form - of his parents' life in Nazi Germany.   I'm moved by the drawings themselves and the stark honesty.  The Nazis are cats, the Jews mice.  Spiegleman, who was born after the war, has a tortured relationship with his father.  But I can understand his father's actions after what he's been through.

I found the first volume in Dave's house as we were cleaning out boxes.  I searched for the second in a used bookstore close by and was thrilled to find it.  I think, when I finish the second, I'll donate them to the Holocaust Center close to my house in Florida.  The Center is dedicated to help all of us ... not forget.

The first Maus book opens with this quote:

The Jews are undoubtedly a race, but they are not human - Adolf Hitler   Scary and upsetting.  But we need to remember.


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