Returning home from a week in Nashville where I learned about equalization, compression, recording techniques, eccentric people, and music curriculum, I have been reflecting on the power of the entertainment industry and how that relates to my world as a classically trained musician. Somehow I have resisted the idea that music is solely for the purpose of entertainment, that music has a power and a scope beyond and deeper than providing a good moment of happy feelings, of emotional cathartic release. As I learn and subsequently teach the craft of what music is and encourage the creative expression of music in all its forms, I have to wonder if I have missed something along the way. Maybe music is primarily entertainment.
And Nashville certainly is about entertainment. Music Row is filled with recording studios and publishers adorn various parts of the city. Clearing houses for artist protection are scattered about and many restaurants include a form of live music. The number of garage bands, combos, song writers, singers, and instrumentalists is staggering and the entire city seems to have music coming out of its pores. The guitar is nearly an icon and can be found with the turn of a head or an open ear. Nashville embraced the idea of music as entertainment and has thrived from its musical economy. Rejecting the idea of music as an art form apart from its entertainment value, Nashville has produced an untold number of recordings and live musicians. Maybe they are right.
After all, the great operas were written as entertainment, ways to occupy the royalty, to unify the peasants, to gather all in one room for one artistic event. Broadway musicals, often considered the opera of America, are essentially entertainment, a glorious integration of the arts to tell a story in music. Marching bands entertain the crowd at football games, jazz combos entertain people in night clubs, American Idol and Glee are all about entertainment. The guitar player on the street, the accordion player in the doorway, the singer grabbing a microphone, the whistler in the hallway, all these and more are providing some level of musical entertainment. Is it possible that an aural experience, apart from the visual is entertaining? Is all music entertainment? Maybe.
But what about music for worship? What about a priest chanting in a mode to communicate the parts of a mass? What about the acapella choir in Westminster Abbey or the organist playing the prelude? Are these a form of entertainment? Arguable certainly but nevertheless true in a way. Sure these musicians are worshiping, but they are also entertaining the people who are in turn worshiping. A fine line is drawn between enhancing the experiencing, providing background music, or serving the emotional content of the experience, but in the end, it is still a form of entertainment although difficult to admit!
Let's take a look at a symphony orchestra concert. Is this entertainment? A collective set of musicians who worked together for a common goal of a performance of one person's creative expression reside on a stage to give an audience aural pleasure, emotional release, and personal amusement. The event may not elicit great laughter or wild expressions of joy or extrinisic physical responses, but it does satisfy something within the human spirit that is pleasurable. The concert may not have been a visual mosaic of colors or a smorgasbord of clever verbal quips or include dancing or theatre, but nevertheless the concert was a form of entertainment. Its depth of sound, preparation of the performers, formality of the environment, profound acceptance of great art, or historical acknowledgement of the literature, do not take the concert out of its intent--to entertain the audience.
And entertainment can be delivered to large a populous or to smaller units. Humming to oneself is solitary entertainment, a worthy goal in all respects. Taken on a broader scale, collective music making serves not just the performers but the listeners as well, causing a sense of pleasure in all constituencies involved. No matter what the level or sincerity of the music making, regardless of the setting or the intention, it remains a form of entertainment. We tend to view entertainment as requiring dancing or clowns or comedians or rock bands, but an expansion of the concept takes us down the road to include performance with its array of opportunities.
Musicians, trained or untrained, need to accept their role as delivering entertainment to other people. We trained musicians somehow prefer to think we are providing music at a deeper level than sheer entertainment, that we are delivering something more intentional, purposeful, and life-altering to the human spirit, but in the final analysis, music, regardless of its form, style, genre, quantity, or even quality, is ultimately about entertainment. Once we accept this outcome, we can begin to accept the many kinds of music that make up our culture and our world. An individual may prefer a quieter, contemplative form of music and may prefer music of a particular genre or time period, or may prefer a certain kind of instrumentation or text, or may prefer art music with its ability to reach an emotional depth not always found in other music, but regardless of the preference, music is pleasurable on many levels to millions of people. It may be true, and I subscribe to this conclusion as well, that quality music making begats quality listening experiences, and that greater preparation and greater craft of musicianship result in deeper pleasure for the listener, and trained musicians certainly seek to reach a profound level of expression, but the strategic goal remains that of entertainment.
This does not in any sense abdicate or even subjugate the need for quality musical experiences, and in fact it further demonstrates the value of training musicians to seek out profound forms of entertainment and emotional expression. But it does in a sense remind us in academia to be sensitive to the variety of preferences of music and never to disregard listener response to music. Without an audience, music resides in a vacuum, a vortex with no purpose and guaranteed to disappear into oblivion.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Traveling to Nashville
Left the house at 3:30 on Sunday for a 1 1/2 hour drive to Abilene to fly to DFW and onward to Nashville with the goal of arriving in Nashville around 10 p.m. But several problems and planes later we arrived in Nashville the next day at 4:30 in our same clothes in which we began our journey. We left Abilene the first time but were not allowed to land due to weather so we returned to Abilene to wait for things to calm down. Waiting until 10, we left again for DFW and arrived safely but without a way to continue to Nashville. Staying in a motel for the night without our luggage, we got up early and fly to Memphis where we waited for several hours for the flight to Nashville.
Arriving in Nashville and having great concern about our luggage, we walked to the baggage office and there they were--our suitcases. Renting a car we headed to our conference and arrived successfully. Now we are at a conference that may or may not provide information that is useful to my profession. We shall see.
Nashville is beautiful with rolling green hills, tall full trees, and luscious flowers adorning the landscape. Warm outside and more humid than makes me comfortable, I am happy to be here experiencing a different part of the country. It is a musical world with strong emphases on country music and popular music, demonstrating once again the proliferation of music in our culture. All types of music are heard in Nashville including opera, ballet, and symphonic music not to mention the myriad of pop styles from bluegrass to fusion to jazz.
Cicadas are out of control in this fair city. Piercing, painful cacophony of sound pervades the environment everywhere we go, providing its own kind of natural beauty that although harsh is also ironically natural. As we learn about equalization, compression, and sequencing, it is strangely comforting to know that the insects equalize their world without the use of electronics. I wonder if the sounds of nature are somehow more prevalent in Nashville, driving the need for music and thereby lifting Nashville to its place as a musical mecca. I guess there is no way to know. Curious thought.
Fun place for sure and a great place to visit and probably a great place to live.
Arriving in Nashville and having great concern about our luggage, we walked to the baggage office and there they were--our suitcases. Renting a car we headed to our conference and arrived successfully. Now we are at a conference that may or may not provide information that is useful to my profession. We shall see.
Nashville is beautiful with rolling green hills, tall full trees, and luscious flowers adorning the landscape. Warm outside and more humid than makes me comfortable, I am happy to be here experiencing a different part of the country. It is a musical world with strong emphases on country music and popular music, demonstrating once again the proliferation of music in our culture. All types of music are heard in Nashville including opera, ballet, and symphonic music not to mention the myriad of pop styles from bluegrass to fusion to jazz.
Cicadas are out of control in this fair city. Piercing, painful cacophony of sound pervades the environment everywhere we go, providing its own kind of natural beauty that although harsh is also ironically natural. As we learn about equalization, compression, and sequencing, it is strangely comforting to know that the insects equalize their world without the use of electronics. I wonder if the sounds of nature are somehow more prevalent in Nashville, driving the need for music and thereby lifting Nashville to its place as a musical mecca. I guess there is no way to know. Curious thought.
Fun place for sure and a great place to visit and probably a great place to live.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Learning to play an instrument
The sound was painful to the ear, loud and obnoxious, accompanied by uncomfortable giggles of both fear and amazement as the student nervously with a degree of anxiety blended with joy returned the instrument back to the teacher. "Will I really get to play an instrument?" lurked inside each head, the secret longing to express emotions through music hoping to be unleashed in the form of band. Parents looked on wondering about the sound itself, the costs associated with band, the commitment, and also the ability of their child. Yet there was no denying the shimmering energy that abounded within their son or daughter when she held the instrument and made that sound. Pure joy alighted on her face as she imagined herself marching on the field making music.
Complete trust and faith in the teachers to help make the decision over which instrument was best occurred when the students and parents approached the band director wondering what would happen next. Assessing the child including his teeth, lips, general aptitude, musical aptitude, potential size, and mostly desire, the director educates them on what would be the best instrument. Sometimes the director misses the mark and places a student on the wrong instrument. Time usually reveals this problem and the wise director will encourage a change early enough to allow the student success. Meanwhile, the student anxiously awaits the moment he can hold the instrument and play a melody.
The process is a shade laborious at first, learning to hold the instrument correctly, learning how to care for it, finding what makes it tick, adjusting your body to fit the instrument, applying what you see on the written page to the actual instrument. Attempting to make the darn thing sound good, pleasing to the ear, matching the music, doing the rhythm correctly, making your fingers accurate, hoping for success. It is an emotional experience in all respects. In some ways similar to hitting the ball when it crosses the plate or getting the math problem right or asking someone on a date, it is all frightening and wildly vulnerable.
But wow--it is worth the anxiety! The feeling deep inside that comes rushing out as you learn to play an instrument is overwhelmingly joyous and fulfilling. Everything right that exists inside the heart and soul is outwardly expressed through the strange object being held in your hand. The neurons come alive and your body energy becomes a rushing river of rapids gliding effortlessly and unbridled toward the goal of music. That first sound and later that first melody is one of those experiences to be treasured and remembered forever.
To the students thinking about playing: your parents and your grandparents will love every sound you make and every attempt at music that you experience. Let not your fear and anxiety inhibit your desire for music. Music is for everyone.
There is a marvelous song by Elton John called Electricity. It is a song that a boy sings describing the feeling he gets when he starts dancing. The song is from the amazingly inspiring musical called Billy Elliot. The words and music describe the same feeling one gets when playing an instrument, which is all about the personal expression of music.
Complete trust and faith in the teachers to help make the decision over which instrument was best occurred when the students and parents approached the band director wondering what would happen next. Assessing the child including his teeth, lips, general aptitude, musical aptitude, potential size, and mostly desire, the director educates them on what would be the best instrument. Sometimes the director misses the mark and places a student on the wrong instrument. Time usually reveals this problem and the wise director will encourage a change early enough to allow the student success. Meanwhile, the student anxiously awaits the moment he can hold the instrument and play a melody.
The process is a shade laborious at first, learning to hold the instrument correctly, learning how to care for it, finding what makes it tick, adjusting your body to fit the instrument, applying what you see on the written page to the actual instrument. Attempting to make the darn thing sound good, pleasing to the ear, matching the music, doing the rhythm correctly, making your fingers accurate, hoping for success. It is an emotional experience in all respects. In some ways similar to hitting the ball when it crosses the plate or getting the math problem right or asking someone on a date, it is all frightening and wildly vulnerable.
But wow--it is worth the anxiety! The feeling deep inside that comes rushing out as you learn to play an instrument is overwhelmingly joyous and fulfilling. Everything right that exists inside the heart and soul is outwardly expressed through the strange object being held in your hand. The neurons come alive and your body energy becomes a rushing river of rapids gliding effortlessly and unbridled toward the goal of music. That first sound and later that first melody is one of those experiences to be treasured and remembered forever.
To the students thinking about playing: your parents and your grandparents will love every sound you make and every attempt at music that you experience. Let not your fear and anxiety inhibit your desire for music. Music is for everyone.
There is a marvelous song by Elton John called Electricity. It is a song that a boy sings describing the feeling he gets when he starts dancing. The song is from the amazingly inspiring musical called Billy Elliot. The words and music describe the same feeling one gets when playing an instrument, which is all about the personal expression of music.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Savant Gifts in Autism
Having written several times on the myth of latent gifts and unusual abilities associated with autism, and working to alleviate the fallacies of thinking that many people have toward autism, I now find myself taking the other position. While it is true that movies such as Rain Man and Mercury Rising demonstrate the amazing prowess of certain autistic people, it would be wise to remember that those rare people are exceptional. It is anecdotally rewarding to imagine the "trapped" genius residing within a shell of autism that if given the right environmental circumstances can contribute intellectually to modern culture, but the reality dictates that most autistic children and adults are of average intelligence and aptitude, similar to the averages of normal people. It makes sense that there are and always will be the exceptions on both ends of the intelligence spectrum to include brilliant and gifted autistics as well as those with significant learning challenges.
If the outside world expects a high level of savant intelligence in some specialized area, then disappointment will usually be the result. I have known blind people who often felt the expectation of musical gifts to be a frustration since they may or may not have the same kind of musical abilities we hear about in the media. Stevie Wonder and Ken Medema are exceptions to the rule and it is grossly unfair to make them the standard for all sight-challenged people. The same is true in autism. Rain Man was exceptional and to impose that kind of expectation on all autistic people is to set them up for failure and disappointment.
Autism is a neurological disorder that can have related issues with cognition or in many cases simply communication. Much has been written on the characteristics of autism so there is no need to dwell on previous knowledge. What I do want to mention is that in spite of my belief in the generally average gifts of most autistic children, there are indeed often latent abilities that manifest themselves in the behavior and practice of autistic adults. Because of the nature of autism being more concrete and less abstract, order and systemization are necessary for their success. In some ways, this is oddly instinctual in the manner that forces us to respond to our environment out of survival. Although non-autistics develop a kind of social contract to "fit in" to the world around them, an autistic must find other means. One of the ways this happens is to compartmentalize different events and knowledge. They work hard to give a sense of order to everything they encounter. This helps them cope and understand the complex world around them.
Joel has an unusual ability to hear numbers, see them in his head, and recall them back with great accuracy. He also does this with books at the library, placing books in the correct order based on their originally correct location. Over time, he has no need to read the call number, he simply knows where the book belongs and takes it to its spot. He tells me that he knows where every book belongs and has never made a mistake in placing a book on the shelf.
For most of us, we are slowly losing the ability to recall phone numbers. Our tendency to place all numbers in a phone directory on our cell phones is likely subverting the need to recall the numbers. It is not unusual for us to falter when asked the numbers of people we contact everyday. There is no need to memorize the number as long it is one click away on the phone. For Joel, however, he does not place numbers in his directory. Instead he memorizes the numbers and recalls them in his head. My suspicion is that he visualizes the precise order of the number and associates that order with a particular person. It is an unusual ability and one that makes us pause as we realize very few of us have that ability. Yet in spite of that remarkable skill, Joel does not have great short-term memory for other things. If something cannot be ordered, he cannot recall it in his mind.
There is little doubt that autism remains a mystery to most people, perhaps everyone at least to an extent. Yet the more we understand, the better we can help autistics adjust to the complex world. Part of our job as guardians of our adult son is to show him ways to use his abilities and his disabilities that will help him be successful. But part of our job is also to educate the world on ways to help and understand him. At times this is a full-time job!
If the outside world expects a high level of savant intelligence in some specialized area, then disappointment will usually be the result. I have known blind people who often felt the expectation of musical gifts to be a frustration since they may or may not have the same kind of musical abilities we hear about in the media. Stevie Wonder and Ken Medema are exceptions to the rule and it is grossly unfair to make them the standard for all sight-challenged people. The same is true in autism. Rain Man was exceptional and to impose that kind of expectation on all autistic people is to set them up for failure and disappointment.
Autism is a neurological disorder that can have related issues with cognition or in many cases simply communication. Much has been written on the characteristics of autism so there is no need to dwell on previous knowledge. What I do want to mention is that in spite of my belief in the generally average gifts of most autistic children, there are indeed often latent abilities that manifest themselves in the behavior and practice of autistic adults. Because of the nature of autism being more concrete and less abstract, order and systemization are necessary for their success. In some ways, this is oddly instinctual in the manner that forces us to respond to our environment out of survival. Although non-autistics develop a kind of social contract to "fit in" to the world around them, an autistic must find other means. One of the ways this happens is to compartmentalize different events and knowledge. They work hard to give a sense of order to everything they encounter. This helps them cope and understand the complex world around them.
Joel has an unusual ability to hear numbers, see them in his head, and recall them back with great accuracy. He also does this with books at the library, placing books in the correct order based on their originally correct location. Over time, he has no need to read the call number, he simply knows where the book belongs and takes it to its spot. He tells me that he knows where every book belongs and has never made a mistake in placing a book on the shelf.
For most of us, we are slowly losing the ability to recall phone numbers. Our tendency to place all numbers in a phone directory on our cell phones is likely subverting the need to recall the numbers. It is not unusual for us to falter when asked the numbers of people we contact everyday. There is no need to memorize the number as long it is one click away on the phone. For Joel, however, he does not place numbers in his directory. Instead he memorizes the numbers and recalls them in his head. My suspicion is that he visualizes the precise order of the number and associates that order with a particular person. It is an unusual ability and one that makes us pause as we realize very few of us have that ability. Yet in spite of that remarkable skill, Joel does not have great short-term memory for other things. If something cannot be ordered, he cannot recall it in his mind.
There is little doubt that autism remains a mystery to most people, perhaps everyone at least to an extent. Yet the more we understand, the better we can help autistics adjust to the complex world. Part of our job as guardians of our adult son is to show him ways to use his abilities and his disabilities that will help him be successful. But part of our job is also to educate the world on ways to help and understand him. At times this is a full-time job!
Thursday, May 12, 2011
The GTO
It was gold and new and sat in the parking lot representing everything grand and perfect about the world. The year was 1965, a year Sandy Koufax and Willie Mays were the heroes of baseball, the Vietnam War seemed upsetting to our parents, we enjoyed our black and white television set with 3 channels and an antenna that required adjustment frequently, and Dr. Seuss books were an adventure in reading (that mean Grinch!). We played hard at recess, usually getting angry about the rules of the game, disagreeing on who touched whom, wondering about our friends, filthy from falling on the dirt, most often bleeding somewhere, fascinated with beetles, spiders, and mostly the horny toads that scurried everywhere we went, dispensing an odd brown substance from their eyes when cornered (later we were told it was blood--neato!). We walked home each day regardless of the distance, not knowing that walking home would one day be an unusual practice, and we hoped to get some guys together for a game of army men in someone's backyard.
And the object of our love and adoration sat in the parking lot day after day, shining in all its glory, teasing us, winking at us, playing hard to get, shimmering with wavy gold polish, supported by tires guaranteed to win every race, and demonstrating an elegance beyond the normal world. Its very elite luster shouted a type of disdain toward the common, with a masked sneer lying just below its golden surface. A sneer that gave it yet another dimension of being untouchable and beyond our imagination. It was a Pontiac GTO and it was perfect in all respects.
http://ultimategto.com/carshows/gtoaa05/65_jk055_2.jpg
We assumed it was owned and driven by a goddess (of course that word was not in our vocabulary back then), or at least someone not of this mortal world. In fact it was difficult to associate the perfection of the GTO with a human being. We spent most of our time staring at it and trying to relate it to our lives as first graders. The GTO was better than our playground, smarter than Mrs. Farnsworth our teacher, faster than Willie Mays, tougher than John Wayne, more exotic than a Dr. Seuss book, and without a doubt prettier than Valerie Johnson. Valerie was amazing, a blond angel in first grade who always got the answers right. She wore a yellow dress everyday and was never dirty. Her smile was magical and she must have lived in a castle with people serving her everything. We were in love with Valerie (even though we never would talk to her--after all she was a girl), but we were also in love with the GTO.
Therein was the dilemma. GTO or Valerie? Who was better? Several weeks of discussion went by while staring at both and each day we came to the same conclusion--the GTO was superior. Valerie was close, but she paled in comparison. Our object of desire, the unquestioned treasure, the motivation for our future, was the GTO. In spite of the perfection of Valerie, she just simply was not the GTO. And as we decided upon the GTO, it became the example for everything good and every victory in the playground or on the sandlot was about the GTO. "We won, we get the GTO" was heard everyday in some way. The world was right because the GTO was the goal for everything we did.
Valerie was quickly forgotten, she was a girl after all, until the terrible thing happened. One morning as we gathered before school started, we went over to the fence that separated the parking lot from the gathering area, and there we saw a sight that no 5 year old boy should ever have to see: the GTO was dirty and had a dent in the fender. Something horrible had happened, a wreck of some kind and the beautiful object of perfection was damaged. It was human and showed dirt and was no longer perfect. It was just another car and with it went all our hopes and dreams for the future. It was as common as we were and nothing special. Acknowledging this horrific reality was a little difficult for a few minutes, until we were back on the playground talking about Sandy Koufax and John Wayne and looking for horny toads. The year was 1965 and the GTO was dirty. That same day, Valerie Johnson had messed up hair and missed some answers when the teacher called on her, plus she lost a couple of teeth and looked funny. Our world had fallen apart.
But our army men were the same and they awaited our next war, full of sound effects that five year old boys enjoy and disagreements on where the bullets were landing. Life returned to normal and we had other objects to admire. Admittedly, I still glanced at Valerie occasionally and in a moment of weakness might look over at the dirty GTO, but life went on and there was too much to do to dwell on what might have been. Our dreams may have been interrupted with a dose of reality, but dreams have a way of returning in different forms, lying just below the surface anxiously hoping for another opportunity. Plenty of dreams abounded over the years, but I never forgot that GTO and all it represented.
And the object of our love and adoration sat in the parking lot day after day, shining in all its glory, teasing us, winking at us, playing hard to get, shimmering with wavy gold polish, supported by tires guaranteed to win every race, and demonstrating an elegance beyond the normal world. Its very elite luster shouted a type of disdain toward the common, with a masked sneer lying just below its golden surface. A sneer that gave it yet another dimension of being untouchable and beyond our imagination. It was a Pontiac GTO and it was perfect in all respects.
http://ultimategto.com/carshows/gtoaa05/65_jk055_2.jpg
We assumed it was owned and driven by a goddess (of course that word was not in our vocabulary back then), or at least someone not of this mortal world. In fact it was difficult to associate the perfection of the GTO with a human being. We spent most of our time staring at it and trying to relate it to our lives as first graders. The GTO was better than our playground, smarter than Mrs. Farnsworth our teacher, faster than Willie Mays, tougher than John Wayne, more exotic than a Dr. Seuss book, and without a doubt prettier than Valerie Johnson. Valerie was amazing, a blond angel in first grade who always got the answers right. She wore a yellow dress everyday and was never dirty. Her smile was magical and she must have lived in a castle with people serving her everything. We were in love with Valerie (even though we never would talk to her--after all she was a girl), but we were also in love with the GTO.
Therein was the dilemma. GTO or Valerie? Who was better? Several weeks of discussion went by while staring at both and each day we came to the same conclusion--the GTO was superior. Valerie was close, but she paled in comparison. Our object of desire, the unquestioned treasure, the motivation for our future, was the GTO. In spite of the perfection of Valerie, she just simply was not the GTO. And as we decided upon the GTO, it became the example for everything good and every victory in the playground or on the sandlot was about the GTO. "We won, we get the GTO" was heard everyday in some way. The world was right because the GTO was the goal for everything we did.
Valerie was quickly forgotten, she was a girl after all, until the terrible thing happened. One morning as we gathered before school started, we went over to the fence that separated the parking lot from the gathering area, and there we saw a sight that no 5 year old boy should ever have to see: the GTO was dirty and had a dent in the fender. Something horrible had happened, a wreck of some kind and the beautiful object of perfection was damaged. It was human and showed dirt and was no longer perfect. It was just another car and with it went all our hopes and dreams for the future. It was as common as we were and nothing special. Acknowledging this horrific reality was a little difficult for a few minutes, until we were back on the playground talking about Sandy Koufax and John Wayne and looking for horny toads. The year was 1965 and the GTO was dirty. That same day, Valerie Johnson had messed up hair and missed some answers when the teacher called on her, plus she lost a couple of teeth and looked funny. Our world had fallen apart.
But our army men were the same and they awaited our next war, full of sound effects that five year old boys enjoy and disagreements on where the bullets were landing. Life returned to normal and we had other objects to admire. Admittedly, I still glanced at Valerie occasionally and in a moment of weakness might look over at the dirty GTO, but life went on and there was too much to do to dwell on what might have been. Our dreams may have been interrupted with a dose of reality, but dreams have a way of returning in different forms, lying just below the surface anxiously hoping for another opportunity. Plenty of dreams abounded over the years, but I never forgot that GTO and all it represented.
Monday, May 09, 2011
Moral Decline of Society
I heard yet another sermon on the moral decline of society. Regretfully, I have not counted the number of similar sermons I have heard in my life, a life committed to God, to church, to Christian higher education, but I suspect having heard approximately 10 of these kinds of sermons per year. Given my 50 years, this means I have heard this sermon and its variation more or less 500 times. Of course there are many variations of this sermon and it is categorically unfair to group them together as one under the umbrella of "here is another moral decline of society" sermon, but given my propensity for encapsulation and idea labeling, I find myself comfortably assigning thematic sermons into a particular theatre.
Please know I am not criticizing this choice of sermon. Not being a preacher, I would think it is often difficult to preach without having a few minutes of "moral decline of society" verbage. Just like any good piece music, a strong sermon requires a little tension before providing a release of the positive. This concept is tried and true and generally works. People need to hear ideas for improvement, and what better way than to point out the things to avoid. When I go running, I avoid the spots on the road that will cause me to fall or get hurt, preferring to stay on the normal road as I continue toward the goal of completion.
But I am a little bored with the recurring theme of we are in a "moral decline of society" as exemplified by the following: drugs, sex, alcohol, crime. Or let's take it further: terrorism, taxes, welfare, loud music, pants that are too big, clothes not covering well, high gas prices, homosexuality, swearing, global warming, tornados, hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, ice, bugs, snakes, disease, and the list is unending. All these and more have plenty of examples as you pick up the newspaper or listen to the radio or simply look around. A person can always find the negative in all things and it is easy to enumerate the onslaught of moral problems. People are flawed and society is flawed and culture is messed up and institutions are a disaster and in truth everything is bad. Regardless of one's definition of moral behavior, there is always an example to support a position.
I do have a friend who considers me to be an optimist, a Pollyana, a rose-tinted glasses person, a find the good in everyone kind of guy, and I suppose I can accept this criticism and am strangely comfortable with the label. This does not mean that I am not aware of the constant and disturbing problems I see and hear everyday, but it does mean that I work to think broadly, focusing on the general refinement of our world, seeking to experience joy over sorrow, love over hate, improvement over despair, and progression over digression.
Call me cock-eyed, but I do not really believe we are seeing the moral decline of society. I do think the changes in culture, in lifestyle, and in practice are dramatic, perhaps revolutionary, but not necessarily vitriolic. There is a tendency to make our worldview rather limited, based primarily on our immediate senses, interpreting those events we see or experience as being representative of the collective culture, a culture that is steadily marching toward its own doom, destroying the essence of goodness through moral depravity and a kind of societal self-destruction. Our human concept of time is very small, relegated to our own lifespan and our own experience, an experience that may at least to an extent include our families, our education, and our own concepts and interests.
A study of history generally focuses on political structures, on governments, on states, and on broad decisions. Yet if we begin to think microscopically on the lives of people, and then add in a lateral progression of time, we discover something different. We find a very slow, deliberate, refinement and improvement of life. In fact we discover a higher respect for the living and a greater commitment to the value of life with all its complexities. Society is waxing better and better not worse and worse. But like a bull market where in spite of general growth and steady increases, we will occasionally find decline, spikes downward, pain instead of joy, discomfort, evil, sorrow, and destruction. All these and more are and always will be a part of our lives, no question about that.
Yet regardless of those who insist upon preaching the moral decline of society, and I certainly respect them, I must take the other side and preach the moral good, the moral melioration of society. We may see what we want to see, and believe me there are plenty of problems, but as for me, I see a plethora of love and blessings abundant.
Please know I am not criticizing this choice of sermon. Not being a preacher, I would think it is often difficult to preach without having a few minutes of "moral decline of society" verbage. Just like any good piece music, a strong sermon requires a little tension before providing a release of the positive. This concept is tried and true and generally works. People need to hear ideas for improvement, and what better way than to point out the things to avoid. When I go running, I avoid the spots on the road that will cause me to fall or get hurt, preferring to stay on the normal road as I continue toward the goal of completion.
But I am a little bored with the recurring theme of we are in a "moral decline of society" as exemplified by the following: drugs, sex, alcohol, crime. Or let's take it further: terrorism, taxes, welfare, loud music, pants that are too big, clothes not covering well, high gas prices, homosexuality, swearing, global warming, tornados, hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, ice, bugs, snakes, disease, and the list is unending. All these and more have plenty of examples as you pick up the newspaper or listen to the radio or simply look around. A person can always find the negative in all things and it is easy to enumerate the onslaught of moral problems. People are flawed and society is flawed and culture is messed up and institutions are a disaster and in truth everything is bad. Regardless of one's definition of moral behavior, there is always an example to support a position.
I do have a friend who considers me to be an optimist, a Pollyana, a rose-tinted glasses person, a find the good in everyone kind of guy, and I suppose I can accept this criticism and am strangely comfortable with the label. This does not mean that I am not aware of the constant and disturbing problems I see and hear everyday, but it does mean that I work to think broadly, focusing on the general refinement of our world, seeking to experience joy over sorrow, love over hate, improvement over despair, and progression over digression.
Call me cock-eyed, but I do not really believe we are seeing the moral decline of society. I do think the changes in culture, in lifestyle, and in practice are dramatic, perhaps revolutionary, but not necessarily vitriolic. There is a tendency to make our worldview rather limited, based primarily on our immediate senses, interpreting those events we see or experience as being representative of the collective culture, a culture that is steadily marching toward its own doom, destroying the essence of goodness through moral depravity and a kind of societal self-destruction. Our human concept of time is very small, relegated to our own lifespan and our own experience, an experience that may at least to an extent include our families, our education, and our own concepts and interests.
A study of history generally focuses on political structures, on governments, on states, and on broad decisions. Yet if we begin to think microscopically on the lives of people, and then add in a lateral progression of time, we discover something different. We find a very slow, deliberate, refinement and improvement of life. In fact we discover a higher respect for the living and a greater commitment to the value of life with all its complexities. Society is waxing better and better not worse and worse. But like a bull market where in spite of general growth and steady increases, we will occasionally find decline, spikes downward, pain instead of joy, discomfort, evil, sorrow, and destruction. All these and more are and always will be a part of our lives, no question about that.
Yet regardless of those who insist upon preaching the moral decline of society, and I certainly respect them, I must take the other side and preach the moral good, the moral melioration of society. We may see what we want to see, and believe me there are plenty of problems, but as for me, I see a plethora of love and blessings abundant.
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Supplementing the Rabbit Post
Two rabbits were frantically running, using their odd zig-zag motion of hopping quickly and deftly avoiding cactus, mesquite, and sharp boulders, when they spied a hollowed out log. Without hesitation, they got inside, knowing it was a matter of time before the pack of coyotes found them, yet confident the log would provide a temporary respite from the inevitable, but quite sad rabbit feast that would most likely occur pretty soon. As the loud, screaming coyotes gathered outside the log waiting for the rabbits to come out, the little rabbits had a discussion.
Rabbit One: I'm frightened and am not sure what to do.
Rabbit Two: The way I figure it, we have two choices.
Rabbit One: What are the choices?
Rabbit Two: We could try to outrun them or we can stay here until we outnumber them!
Rabbit One: I'm frightened and am not sure what to do.
Rabbit Two: The way I figure it, we have two choices.
Rabbit One: What are the choices?
Rabbit Two: We could try to outrun them or we can stay here until we outnumber them!
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Rabbits and Leadership
Running down the road in our country neighborhood, I enjoy watching the little rabbits scurry around and hop back and forth. Their colors are quite similar to the terrain with its light brown almost tanned look with an occasional branch, leaf, and a little grass creeping through the foliage. As they hop, they will suddenly stop, not moving a muscle until it is time to return to rabbit form in a seemingly random zig zag pattern. Preferring groups, they are not afraid to venture out alone, but somehow are always aware of their friends.
Cute yes. Annoying? Maybe a little. Intriguing? All the time! Rabbits are prolific little things offering much to the eco-system and finding ways to protect themselves when necessary. They move quickly with a kind of life energy that says, "We love life and approach it with happy zeal, curiously embracing our world with a dashing flare." They hop about looking for food, absorbing the outdoors and almost sense their own entertainment value to others. Yet at the slightest sense of danger, they freeze, look around, listen carefully, then without hesitation, they thump the ground and take off to another location. The thump is to warn fellow rabbits of impending danger, of the possible foe, of the need to get away quickly.
The sudden stop and remarkable statuesque pose allow rabbits to blend in with the surroundings. The advanced hearing and unusual visual awareness give them the ability to see above and around them, hearing the slightest change in sound, seeking for the source of the change in the environment. Because we see movement before we see stationary, it is often difficult to see rabbits being still due to their blending in with the surroundings.
Yet rabbits have their weaknesses as I discerned on my recent run. I came around the bend to see several rabbits hopping across the road. One froze in the way nature demands it to do, and stood stock still in the middle of the road as I ran toward it. While this would have been effective in the grass or trees, it was rather ridiculous on the road. No blending in for this guy this time. He was obviously a rabbit standing in the road. Furthermore when I was quite near and he realized the danger (I am quite scary when I run!), he thumped and took off. But thumping on pavement does nothing but hurt your paws. No sound or vibration can be experienced by other rabbits.
I find college administration to be the life of a rabbit in some ways. It is easier to stand still and do nothing, cautiously looking around for any dangers and warning others when something seems amiss. When nothing is done, I blend in the surroundings, hoping not to be noticed, making no difference in the world but also remaining comfortably hidden. Easy to do and quite innocuous, often preferred and certainly satisfying. Ah, the joys of blending in and being assimilated into the environment, of keeping a low profile and not being noticed.
But it seems to me that administration should be about leading, about finding something new, about moving forward and about discovery, curiosity, creativity, wisdom, and discernment. Of course hopping from one thing to another has little value and occasionally the wise leader should stand very still, looking for the pitfalls that exist. But very little has ever been accomplished by doing nothing. So I may hop about at times, I may stand still at times, I might even stand still in the road if I am not careful, but mostly I hope to move forward, making a positive difference for others. Perhaps this is the calling not just for administrators but for all of us.
Cute yes. Annoying? Maybe a little. Intriguing? All the time! Rabbits are prolific little things offering much to the eco-system and finding ways to protect themselves when necessary. They move quickly with a kind of life energy that says, "We love life and approach it with happy zeal, curiously embracing our world with a dashing flare." They hop about looking for food, absorbing the outdoors and almost sense their own entertainment value to others. Yet at the slightest sense of danger, they freeze, look around, listen carefully, then without hesitation, they thump the ground and take off to another location. The thump is to warn fellow rabbits of impending danger, of the possible foe, of the need to get away quickly.
The sudden stop and remarkable statuesque pose allow rabbits to blend in with the surroundings. The advanced hearing and unusual visual awareness give them the ability to see above and around them, hearing the slightest change in sound, seeking for the source of the change in the environment. Because we see movement before we see stationary, it is often difficult to see rabbits being still due to their blending in with the surroundings.
Yet rabbits have their weaknesses as I discerned on my recent run. I came around the bend to see several rabbits hopping across the road. One froze in the way nature demands it to do, and stood stock still in the middle of the road as I ran toward it. While this would have been effective in the grass or trees, it was rather ridiculous on the road. No blending in for this guy this time. He was obviously a rabbit standing in the road. Furthermore when I was quite near and he realized the danger (I am quite scary when I run!), he thumped and took off. But thumping on pavement does nothing but hurt your paws. No sound or vibration can be experienced by other rabbits.
I find college administration to be the life of a rabbit in some ways. It is easier to stand still and do nothing, cautiously looking around for any dangers and warning others when something seems amiss. When nothing is done, I blend in the surroundings, hoping not to be noticed, making no difference in the world but also remaining comfortably hidden. Easy to do and quite innocuous, often preferred and certainly satisfying. Ah, the joys of blending in and being assimilated into the environment, of keeping a low profile and not being noticed.
But it seems to me that administration should be about leading, about finding something new, about moving forward and about discovery, curiosity, creativity, wisdom, and discernment. Of course hopping from one thing to another has little value and occasionally the wise leader should stand very still, looking for the pitfalls that exist. But very little has ever been accomplished by doing nothing. So I may hop about at times, I may stand still at times, I might even stand still in the road if I am not careful, but mostly I hope to move forward, making a positive difference for others. Perhaps this is the calling not just for administrators but for all of us.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Acquiring facts in education
One of the most dramatic inventions in history occurred just prior to the Reformation. That is the invention of the printing press. Before this amazing tool, people relied on the experts, the scholars, the literate, the privileged few to give them the facts and the knowledge needed. The role of an education was to impart the truth to the unlearned and teach them an objective awareness through the acquisition of knowledge of the world. In terms of spirituality and Biblical truth, the printing press placed the Bible in the hands of people. No longer did people have to rely on some kind of special, mysterious ability and knowledge about the Bible that resided in the chosen few. Now suddenly people could read for themselves and make their own decisions. In spite of the inherent stickiness of this new opportunity (we all know the joys and pitfalls of everyone having free and open access to the Bible!), in the end it is the best way to ensure the future of a refined and knowledgable culture. Did the printing press revolutionize education? Absolutely.
The next great invention: the internet. With a touch and click, most, maybe all, facts are revealed in today's modern world. Who is considered the Father of the String Quartet? How many string quartets did he write? What is the formal structure of the first movements of most of his string quartets? What transitional chord is used in the 32nd String Quartet in 2nd movement? (this is harder to find but is available).
Or let's look at some other quick questions: How many apples are generally on a full grown apple tree? What is probably causing my shoulder pain? What stocks are in a bear decline? Why is Francis Marion called the Swamp Fox? What kind of television should I purchase? Why do cats have rough tongues? What is the best way to cook Salmon? What is the significance of the relationship between Roosevelt and Gifford Pinchot?
At one time we depended on the experts to tell us things, to inform us about knowledge, to provide the facts that would help us to better our lives and become more educated. They were the mystics, the scholars, the professors, and the brilliant thinkers. They were the source of knowledge and with knowledge comes power. They held the keys to the past and subsequently to the future and mostly they held the keys to the success of everyone.
Are those days gone? In a sense yes. The power is at your fingertips as they caress the keys of a computer. Knowledge is available to all with very little effort. So why are we in education still teaching the facts when the facts are no longer a mystery? The age of the mysterious, brilliant intellect with special knowledge hidden in the depths of his superior brain is slowly giving way to the realization that everyone can be that person. The potential for the contagious spreading of experts in virtually all fields is now in front of us. While in some ways the very ease of information access diminishes its appeal, in other ways it allows us greater freedom from ignorance enslavement.
It is not a stretch to recognize that power belongs to those with the knowledge and the strength to keep the minions from knowing. Knowing you have the cards in your hand to win the game is to have the confidence to play it to the end. The cards in your hand tell you the future just as knowledge at your fingertips provides a position of strength and confidence. The internet gives everyone, regardless of background, personality, limitations, and refinement, the cards to stay in the game to the end.
With this awareness, it is time for educators to rethink curriculum and how we teach our students. It no longer makes sense to stand in front of 30 students and teach them information that is readily available. Because the information is so accessible, it inadvertently becomes a form of superfluous trivia in many respects, at one time valued partly due to its rarity but now common and therefore a little innocuous, certainly valued but unnecessary for educational focus. We must examine everything we teach, reducing out the superfluous and prolonging that which is not readily accessible.
Those offering a knowledge base that is as common as hamburgers will quickly become dinosaurs in a time when people need something different. For colleges and universities, teachers and yes students, this means examining everything being taught and working with tenacious zeal toward a new approach. It is time to teach for potential, for discernment, for critical thinking, for application, for synthesis, for comprehension and meaning, for skill, and for creativity. Knowledge is present, but let us ask ourselves how it will be used.
The next great invention: the internet. With a touch and click, most, maybe all, facts are revealed in today's modern world. Who is considered the Father of the String Quartet? How many string quartets did he write? What is the formal structure of the first movements of most of his string quartets? What transitional chord is used in the 32nd String Quartet in 2nd movement? (this is harder to find but is available).
Or let's look at some other quick questions: How many apples are generally on a full grown apple tree? What is probably causing my shoulder pain? What stocks are in a bear decline? Why is Francis Marion called the Swamp Fox? What kind of television should I purchase? Why do cats have rough tongues? What is the best way to cook Salmon? What is the significance of the relationship between Roosevelt and Gifford Pinchot?
At one time we depended on the experts to tell us things, to inform us about knowledge, to provide the facts that would help us to better our lives and become more educated. They were the mystics, the scholars, the professors, and the brilliant thinkers. They were the source of knowledge and with knowledge comes power. They held the keys to the past and subsequently to the future and mostly they held the keys to the success of everyone.
Are those days gone? In a sense yes. The power is at your fingertips as they caress the keys of a computer. Knowledge is available to all with very little effort. So why are we in education still teaching the facts when the facts are no longer a mystery? The age of the mysterious, brilliant intellect with special knowledge hidden in the depths of his superior brain is slowly giving way to the realization that everyone can be that person. The potential for the contagious spreading of experts in virtually all fields is now in front of us. While in some ways the very ease of information access diminishes its appeal, in other ways it allows us greater freedom from ignorance enslavement.
It is not a stretch to recognize that power belongs to those with the knowledge and the strength to keep the minions from knowing. Knowing you have the cards in your hand to win the game is to have the confidence to play it to the end. The cards in your hand tell you the future just as knowledge at your fingertips provides a position of strength and confidence. The internet gives everyone, regardless of background, personality, limitations, and refinement, the cards to stay in the game to the end.
With this awareness, it is time for educators to rethink curriculum and how we teach our students. It no longer makes sense to stand in front of 30 students and teach them information that is readily available. Because the information is so accessible, it inadvertently becomes a form of superfluous trivia in many respects, at one time valued partly due to its rarity but now common and therefore a little innocuous, certainly valued but unnecessary for educational focus. We must examine everything we teach, reducing out the superfluous and prolonging that which is not readily accessible.
Those offering a knowledge base that is as common as hamburgers will quickly become dinosaurs in a time when people need something different. For colleges and universities, teachers and yes students, this means examining everything being taught and working with tenacious zeal toward a new approach. It is time to teach for potential, for discernment, for critical thinking, for application, for synthesis, for comprehension and meaning, for skill, and for creativity. Knowledge is present, but let us ask ourselves how it will be used.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Church music and congregational response
Loving the old hymns and encouraging respect for great music, I incorporated two classy hymns within the worship today, O God Our Help in Ages Past and Crown Him with Many Crowns. Both of these hymns have withstood the test of time and are highly regarded for their quality, their ageless texts, and their musical depth. Plus, I cannot help but mention my own respect and preference for these great hymns. Obviously my opinion is simply my own but is partly based on years of experience and training in high musical art.
Thinking I had found the recipe for the "blended" idea of worship, I surrounded these wonderful hymns with a few modern praise and worship choruses. And the congregation joined in, young and old, singing and praising the Lord. That is until we started the hymns, and suddenly the energy, the singing, the excitement disappeared. Gone. Very few people singing and nobody engaged in the process. Became distraught since I love those hymns. But I must ask the question, Why?
Are hymns old hat? Dinosaurs in an age of pop music? Anachronisms that have some kind of historical significance but little application in today's world? What has gone wrong? Can anything be done about this or should anything be done? Perhaps hymns have had their heyday and that day is gone. Not sure, and I certainly do not have the answers. What follows is conjecture.
Initially I would like to blame the lack of a powerful pipe organ for the problem. A pipe organ can lead a hymn, providing variety of voicing and sound on each stanza that allow for robust, expressive singing from congregants. In an acoustically sound environment, a pipe organ is the grandest of all instruments, bestowing comfort and excitement to anyone listening or singing. While I have mentioned before, and still stand by my assertion, that modern worship is governed at least to an extent by the architecture of the modern church, there remains, regardless of the acoustical properties or lack thereof, validity and power for an organ to lead out on hymns, imparting a high level of musical energy for proper hymn singing. Yet, this argument does not tell the whole story of the perceived problem of poor hymn singing.
I also would like to blame an ironic lack of familiarity on the poor singing. Maybe music ministers, committees, have shied away from singing the great hymns due to their complexity or label of being "high church." The less a particular hymn is sung, the less successful it will be upon its reintroduction. This is human nature in music and is true for hymns and choruses. Crown Him with Many Crowns may indeed be a great hymn but if people have rarely if ever heard it, then it stands to reason people will not sing it well. Point well taken. But in an odd "market" sense, this argument is rather weak. If demand for the so-called "great" hymn were high, would not people want to sing it? If time and value determine great art, then Crown Him ought to, by market rights, be sung with gusto in all churches.
This is not to say that great hymns are solely determined by their popularity, but it would be anathema to ignore popular inclusion of music. An individual can claim the Corvair was an outstanding vehicle, but time and public perception have stated it was not. The same could be true with music, at least to some extent, unless one is comfortable providing leadership to a small niche of people. In that case, a church would need to divide in groups, finding the ones who respond well to Crown Him with Many Crowns. Of course that never happens in our churches...or does it?
But the main problem, if it is a problem, or maybe it is simply a reality, is that congregants are seeking after a different mode of emotional expression in their music preference. Not all people necessarily, for I personally know of many who are comfortable in an entirely hymn-based high church approach, but certainly most, particularly protestants in the evangelical tradition. The world in terms of society and culture has simply progressed and this progress includes music. Rather than culture refining itself in a traditional, embracing of past musical expression mode, society has progressed to desiring a more popular sound, even in our churches.
If this is true, and it seems to be, then part of my responsibility as a music minister is to find music or create experiences using current and past music that will elicit some kind of congregational response--preferably singing to God's Glory. The mistake may not have been in doing two classic hymns, but it could have been not keeping them in the forefront of the experience plus trying to sing them in an older model. Time to reconsider.
But please do not take away the great classical hymns! Change them, add to them, recreate them, but let's keep them active.
Thinking I had found the recipe for the "blended" idea of worship, I surrounded these wonderful hymns with a few modern praise and worship choruses. And the congregation joined in, young and old, singing and praising the Lord. That is until we started the hymns, and suddenly the energy, the singing, the excitement disappeared. Gone. Very few people singing and nobody engaged in the process. Became distraught since I love those hymns. But I must ask the question, Why?
Are hymns old hat? Dinosaurs in an age of pop music? Anachronisms that have some kind of historical significance but little application in today's world? What has gone wrong? Can anything be done about this or should anything be done? Perhaps hymns have had their heyday and that day is gone. Not sure, and I certainly do not have the answers. What follows is conjecture.
Initially I would like to blame the lack of a powerful pipe organ for the problem. A pipe organ can lead a hymn, providing variety of voicing and sound on each stanza that allow for robust, expressive singing from congregants. In an acoustically sound environment, a pipe organ is the grandest of all instruments, bestowing comfort and excitement to anyone listening or singing. While I have mentioned before, and still stand by my assertion, that modern worship is governed at least to an extent by the architecture of the modern church, there remains, regardless of the acoustical properties or lack thereof, validity and power for an organ to lead out on hymns, imparting a high level of musical energy for proper hymn singing. Yet, this argument does not tell the whole story of the perceived problem of poor hymn singing.
I also would like to blame an ironic lack of familiarity on the poor singing. Maybe music ministers, committees, have shied away from singing the great hymns due to their complexity or label of being "high church." The less a particular hymn is sung, the less successful it will be upon its reintroduction. This is human nature in music and is true for hymns and choruses. Crown Him with Many Crowns may indeed be a great hymn but if people have rarely if ever heard it, then it stands to reason people will not sing it well. Point well taken. But in an odd "market" sense, this argument is rather weak. If demand for the so-called "great" hymn were high, would not people want to sing it? If time and value determine great art, then Crown Him ought to, by market rights, be sung with gusto in all churches.
This is not to say that great hymns are solely determined by their popularity, but it would be anathema to ignore popular inclusion of music. An individual can claim the Corvair was an outstanding vehicle, but time and public perception have stated it was not. The same could be true with music, at least to some extent, unless one is comfortable providing leadership to a small niche of people. In that case, a church would need to divide in groups, finding the ones who respond well to Crown Him with Many Crowns. Of course that never happens in our churches...or does it?
But the main problem, if it is a problem, or maybe it is simply a reality, is that congregants are seeking after a different mode of emotional expression in their music preference. Not all people necessarily, for I personally know of many who are comfortable in an entirely hymn-based high church approach, but certainly most, particularly protestants in the evangelical tradition. The world in terms of society and culture has simply progressed and this progress includes music. Rather than culture refining itself in a traditional, embracing of past musical expression mode, society has progressed to desiring a more popular sound, even in our churches.
If this is true, and it seems to be, then part of my responsibility as a music minister is to find music or create experiences using current and past music that will elicit some kind of congregational response--preferably singing to God's Glory. The mistake may not have been in doing two classic hymns, but it could have been not keeping them in the forefront of the experience plus trying to sing them in an older model. Time to reconsider.
But please do not take away the great classical hymns! Change them, add to them, recreate them, but let's keep them active.
Joel at McDonalds
I enjoy taking Joel to McDonalds for breakfast and then running errands with him, but there are several challenges that accompany the experience. In the truck, Joel insists on listening to the Symphony station and really does not like any other kind of music. I have worked hard to teach him to accept other kinds of music, but mostly he just tolerates it, frustrated until we return to the Symphony station. I think he enjoys "picking" out the various kinds of instruments being played. He does not like the sounds of a trap set or an electric guitar. Related to this idea of the Symphony station is his hope to hear music composed by an Italian. When he does, that sets of a series off "Italian" discussions about food, composers, and "when are we going to Italy, Dad?"
When we get in the truck, he immediately puts the climate control on 70 degrees on his side and 74 on my side. Not sure why. He then begins counting the number of places and runs through them for me later in the day. "Dad, we went to 8 places--convenient store, McDonalds, bank, grocery store, AT&T store, laundromat, grocery store, and Home Depot." Joel tends to number things in his mind that fit broad categories. He does this with food, steps, movies, and various kinds of events.
Arriving at McDonalds, I order the same thing as always for him: hotcakes and sausage with a medium Mocha Frappe. We then sit down with our food and I cut up the hotcakes and sausage and pour syrup on everything. He then stares at me until I remember to go back and ask for a spoon. He insists on eating the Frappe with a spoon and to do so before eating the hotcakes and sausage. Once he gets a spoon, it all happens quickly until the Frappe followed by the food is completely gone. Happy, we head back to the truck for the errands, listening to Symphonies, talking about Italian music, and me explaining why we can't live in Italy next year.
We have learned to accept Joel for who he is and to enjoy his quirks at least to an extent. Sometimes they are frustrating and are always rather confusing and mysterious, but they also remind us that Joel is not wired like most people. He looks at life differently and has his own kind of ordering system. He struggles with time and space and has very little concept of the passing of time or why we cannot simply move to Italy. In his world, his goals tend to be immediate and are based primarily on his own narrow preferences. Generally unaware of his surroundings, he requires a great deal of routine and security. At the same time, he loves seeing friends and will often be the one "working the crowd" everywhere we go. The "Sunny Sparkle" smile continues to work magic in social settings. People may not understand the quirks and odd preferences, but they do understand the smile!
When we get in the truck, he immediately puts the climate control on 70 degrees on his side and 74 on my side. Not sure why. He then begins counting the number of places and runs through them for me later in the day. "Dad, we went to 8 places--convenient store, McDonalds, bank, grocery store, AT&T store, laundromat, grocery store, and Home Depot." Joel tends to number things in his mind that fit broad categories. He does this with food, steps, movies, and various kinds of events.
Arriving at McDonalds, I order the same thing as always for him: hotcakes and sausage with a medium Mocha Frappe. We then sit down with our food and I cut up the hotcakes and sausage and pour syrup on everything. He then stares at me until I remember to go back and ask for a spoon. He insists on eating the Frappe with a spoon and to do so before eating the hotcakes and sausage. Once he gets a spoon, it all happens quickly until the Frappe followed by the food is completely gone. Happy, we head back to the truck for the errands, listening to Symphonies, talking about Italian music, and me explaining why we can't live in Italy next year.
We have learned to accept Joel for who he is and to enjoy his quirks at least to an extent. Sometimes they are frustrating and are always rather confusing and mysterious, but they also remind us that Joel is not wired like most people. He looks at life differently and has his own kind of ordering system. He struggles with time and space and has very little concept of the passing of time or why we cannot simply move to Italy. In his world, his goals tend to be immediate and are based primarily on his own narrow preferences. Generally unaware of his surroundings, he requires a great deal of routine and security. At the same time, he loves seeing friends and will often be the one "working the crowd" everywhere we go. The "Sunny Sparkle" smile continues to work magic in social settings. People may not understand the quirks and odd preferences, but they do understand the smile!
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