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I began this blog post this morning. Or maybe even Sunday night? Not sure. With the best of intentions. Focus! Engage!

The whole business would go a whole lot better, I think, if I would be resolute and disciplined and do this writing before allowing myself even a glimpse at the news in the morning. Or just, as I’m doing now, set things down in the evening, when the news has had the whole day to work its way through my system.

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I was going to digest, but I think I’ll go a little broader and just pound out some notes on the current state of the homeschool. Because, besides the news, that’s what absorbs much of my brain space at the moment.

And since some of you might not make it to the end of the details and blathering, let me get The Point out of the way right away. Things are going well – I think. No balls have been dropped yet, although the pace in some areas is slower than I’d hoped. He seems content – and believe me, I check every day.

But our space an Ecstatic Little Home Education Cottage, top to bottom, dawn to dusk? No. We’re doing this thing, and it’s a good thing, but it’s not the ideal. Both of us wish there were school options that better fit his life and interests here, but without going into details – there just aren’t. I’ve written about that before. Our choices range from terrible to well-meaning mediocrity to budget-draining Wokeness, with the best public schools far away, on the other side of our zoning lines, and I’m not up for going to the trouble of selling a house and moving across town…for that.

(As I’ve mentioned, we do have an IB school here – my daughter went – but I am just not a believer in such high level intensity at the high school level  – and the ideological aspects of the humanities in these programs are a big negative. Why spend years stressing and sweating over courses taught from particular narrow perspectives, when you can get the broad view in a much more relaxed way from you know, reading a book at home? Save the intensity and ideological battles for college.)

So this is what we’re doing, and it’s evolving – especially now, as he takes on more musical responsibilities. I have no trouble admitting that for my part, my stance is a straggly woven tapestry of gratitude, interest, resentment, impatience, contentment and readiness to just be done with this part of my life.

But you know what? This is what I signed up for, and so this is where I am.

No, I didn’t sign up for “homeschooling a teenager as a single parent at the age of 59” when my first kid was born. But when I accepted parenthood, what I did sign up for was to subsume my own desires to their best interests.

This is not a motherhood thing. It’s a parenthood thing. It’s what all parents are called to do, it’s a parent’s responsibility – to sacrifice for their children. It begins with a mother’s sacrifice of her body to nurture life. It continues as parents set aside, if it’s necessary, their own plans in order to meet their children’s needs. It’s the way of the world: parents working jobs they can barely stand so the children that they’ve brought into the world can eat. Parents changing situations that give them pleasure so they can have more freedom and space to pay more attention to their children. Sometimes those sacrifices involve distance, don’t they? A parent having to migrate or be deployed in order to provide, a parent working long hours or double shifts so the kids can eat and have shelter. A parent in a profession that requires intense and time-consuming training or emotionally demanding presence.

Sometimes it all comes together. Parents work at something they enjoy, kids are provided for, family flourishes. But much of the time, in life, something has to give. Parents everywhere, all the time, make tough decisions on this score. I’m a medical professional, and I serve loads of people and even save lives – and in order to get there, I had to be less present to my kids than I would have if I’d been in a less demanding profession. I’m in ministry, and everyone in my congregation or apostolate wants a piece of me and thinks they have a right to that – and I do help a lot of them – but at what price to my kids?

No, it’s not easy – and healthy adults emerge from all sorts of crazy circumstances – sometimes the healthiest come out of the weirdest places.  Resilience can’t be predicted or planned.

And every one of us knows, if we’ve honestly reflected on our experiences as former children,  so many of us spend a lot of our growing up and growing into adulthood looking at that greener grass: It would have been so much better if my parents hadn’t gotten divorced. Man, I wish my parents had just split up – they would have both been so much happier. I know I’d have been so much better off if they’d put me in Catholic schools – what were they thinking? Man, Catholic school really messed me up – what were they thinking? I wish my parents would have supported me being in sports or dance or music! I can’t believe they pushed me to do sports or dance or music for so long – I think it was really for them, not me, you know? My parents hardly ever hugged me. I just really wished my parents could have just left me alone for like five minutes. Our family vacations were so great! Hell, defined: a family vacation. 

Growing to adulthood means smashing the idols of your childhood and family life, seeing it for the flawed mess that it was, and looking to the only perfect Parent to fill the gaps.

Which means, then, that parenting means teaching your children, in direct and mostly subtle ways, that lesson exactly: I’m trying here, but I’m not perfect, and I’m sorry for the mistakes that will be and have been made. Let me introduce you to God who, unlike me, will never let you down. 

And in all that, in all the complications and trade-offs, the kids have to come first.  As I indicated above, there are different ways in which they can, indeed, come first – so if they only way you can feed them is to spend your earning time away from them – that’s what you have to do. Or if you’re a messed up individual, maybe “putting the kids first” means that you outsource what you can’t emotionally or mentally manage to loving adults who can. Self-care, maintaining sanity and balance – that’s for the kids, too.

But, in this present moment, in a privileged culture centered on the individual, it might not be a bad thing to recall the concept of sacrifice. We can congratulate ourselves on fulfilling our own desires as adults and claim that because we’re “happier,” of course our kids will be happier – and sometimes this might be true. But what also might be true is that at times we have a responsibility to sacrifice our own desires for our dependents’  – children, aging parents, disabled siblings – well-being.

As I finished that last paragraph, I had a sentence that said something like trusting that God will bring us greater joy than we could have planned – but then I cut it. Obviously. Why? Because I find myself resistant to encouraging expectations of “joy” or “happiness” simply because those are such subjective terms, and so misunderstood.

Traditional spiritual practices remind us, all the time, to have no expectations of results, but to privilege faithfulness instead. It’s not – be careful here – that the deeper joy isn’t promised or won’t come – it’s that “joy” or “happiness” can’t be a goal. Seeking “happiness” or “fulfillment” or “satisfaction” has never been a fundamental goal of the Christian life – being faithful to Christ’s call to love sacrificially is. Do you see the difference?

Basically: Even though I fail every day many times, I see the shape of parenting as essentially: love in whatever way is called for in the moment, sacrifice my own desires for their best interest, and really – try not to be a whiny martyr about it. 

And if that’s where you’re at – if you’re in a place of sacrifice, you’re in the exact place that parents and thoughtful humans have always dwelt – and that sacrifice of your own desires for the good of others?

Is a place of grace. 

You’re doing a good – a great – thing. 

Just don’t be a whiny faux martyr about it – much.

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*******

Well, that went in unexpected directions. It was all probably the Spirit working to get stuff out of my system so *I* wouldn’t be a whiny martyr in the rest of this blog post.

Here’s the summary of what’s going on in the Homeschool.

Main development is that Musician Son has an actual job now. A regular, recurring job at the age of 14 – hope it’s recurring! He’s the regular organist at the Sunday Masses of a small parish not too far from our home – the parish in which his sister was married this past summer. It’s a perfect opportunity for him, and not just because he did, indeed, play on that organ for the wedding – it’s a small parish, really committed to going in the right direction, musically, with most of the cantoring and directing being done by Adrianne Price, whom EWTN viewers will know from, well, EWTN. She’s patient, kind and prayerful – a great support for a young musician.

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So, many thanks to his teacher, Bruce Ludwick of the Cathedral of St. Paul, and the pastor, Fr. Vu – who’s giving him a chance. Here we go!

And by “we” – I mean – “we.” Yeah, well. AMDG and all that, right? Because this definitely impacts more than him. He needs to practice organ more – and no, we don’t own an organ, so that means more time in the car and sitting in churches. And he has a weekend commitment now. Which impacts our Big Homeschool Travel Dreams. I already had our November Honduras trip planned, so I gave them the dates for that ahead of time, but at this point, we are sort of stuck here for a while. We’ll see. Trying not to be irritated at that, trying to remember that this is all for God, right, and WOW it’s GREAT that I get to spend more time in churches….I keep saying, with all these older kids and in-law kids and grandkids plus all the needs of just..the world…it doesn’t seem that there’s enough time in the day for all the prayers that need to be said, so well..here ya go. Fine. Whatever. Fine. 

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Because of this, while both other music lessons continue (jazz and regular, classical piano), the pace has slowed and commitments cut. He needs to focus on organ right now.

Math: Working on Algebra II, combining Art of Problem Solving with other resources, mostly Khan Academy and this great teacher from Australia – Mr. Woo! M thinks he’s great and has already developed a very accurate impression of the fellow.

Here’s a nice TedX talk from Eddie Woo, and here’s an interview with him from a religious publication -he’s a Christian, and here’s something he says in the interview which dovetails a bit with what I wrote above: 

Mr Woo’s devotion to the ideal of Christian service even extended to his choice of teaching subject. Amazingly, despite arguably being Australia’s best-known maths teacher, his preferred choice of topic was English or history.

He chose maths because of the shortage of maths teachers.

(Maths) was not an area I was particularly gifted in or passionate about – but I did that from a service point of view because I knew that there was need,” he said.

“I follow someone who didn’t come to be served but to serve. That’s part of who I am. So to me that makes perfect sense even though to the world it doesn’t.”

Latin: On chapter 12 of Latin for the New Millenium, occasional meetings with the tutor – we will increase the frequency of those meetings after Christmas, when he starts prepping for the National Latin Exam.

Spanish: He does on his own, using the Great Courses Spanish II – and of course he’ll have a week of immersion in Honduras. He’s also working in El Hobbit – he’s re-reading IMG_20191022_090802.jpgthe English version, and thought it would be fun to attempt the Spanish.

History: All over the place, self-directed, although in the next couple of weeks, I’m going to have him do some focused Colonial and post-Colonial Central American history. He’s been fixating on World War II lately.

Science:  Biology, once a week, with the homeschool co-op, taught by a local Ph.D.

Literature: This is where the pace has slowed. He’s still reading the Iliad – although I think he’ll finish this week. I wanted to do King Lear to go with the production being mounted by Atlanta Shakespeare, but I don’t think we’re going to have a chance to see it with our trip and all. So we’ll do another Shakespeare in early winter to go with either the Alabama or Atlanta Shakespeare productions – whatever they are. I can’t remember at the moment.

Writing: We’ve finally gotten started using this Norton book, which is very good. He reads an essay, we talk about the questions, and he does a writing exercise. The focus is on clarity of thought and expressing those thoughts in engaging and precise ways.

Religion: Besides, you know, hearing two homilies every weekend now, plus occasional daily Mass, and our discussion of the feastdays and Scripture readings on the days we don’t go to daily Mass – we’re doing Old Testament. He’s finishing Genesis this week. He just straight up reads it, we use this as a reference book when necessary. You know, I used to teach this stuff, so…it’s not a problem. Old Testament and Church History were always my favorite courses to teach, which was convenient, because those tended to be the courses that other department members liked teaching least. He’s supposed to be memorizing the names of the books of the Bible, too. Not sure if that is happening. I guess I should check on that.

guess. 

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So much important stuff to talk about, so let’s chat about…a movie. Shall we?

My brain and energies are a bit fried at the moment from being at a church all morning where Son #5 had a run-through of the music for his debut accompanying Mass at this parish, when then turned into an organ-rep practice session which then turned into a piano-practice session (because they have a Steinway that he enjoys playing…).

So I need to expend some of my creative energy…

So?

What do you think?

Here are my Deep Thoughts:

  • YES
  • I’m very, very excited about this. I thought Breaking Bad ended perfectly, but neither have I been averse to seeing Jesse’s story continue. Like many others, I basically want to see Jesse find this, for real:
  • Or, as one wag on Reddit or something opined, when rumors of this project first started flying, something like “I’d be content to watch Jesse sitting on a beach with a Corona and a lady friend for two hours.”
  • Bottom line: I trust Vince Gilligan and team like I trust no other contemporary Big Creative Mind.  Gilligan, it seems to me has the self-confidence required to put his stories out there, but is also not a weird egomaniac – which means he doesn’t let his own stuff get in the way of the stories. Plus, he has a Catholic background which shows, not in angsty-ways (Scorsese, looking at you), but in healthy ways connecting his stories to deeply-felt tradition, even subtly. I’ve always said that Breaking Bad was essentially a series about Original Sin – it’s about what sin does to a person and how that impact spreads – cf. Genesis 1-11. And, per Gn. 3 – the root of that sin is  – always  – pride.
  • I’m optimistic that there’s going to be some intriguing BB – BCS crossover happening, laying groundwork for whatever’s coming with Better Call Saul in 2020.
  • So yes, I’m very glad to see this happening, and have purchased my tickets to see it in the theater in Atlanta!
  • I’m also just very, very curious about some things. I mean – the essence of great drama is conflict, and there has to be more to this story than Jesse running from the Law – if that’s what he’s going to be doing. There just has to be more. But…I keep thinking – with whom? Who’s left for him to conflict with at a deep level that has a lot of stakes?

So. Who’s still alive? Let’s see:

  • Skyler
  • Walt Jr.
  • Holly
  • Marie
  • Elliot and Gretchen
  • Skinny Pete
  • Badger
  • Saul
  • Francesca
  • Brock
  • Lydia (*maybe*)
  • Jesse’s parents/brother
  • Jane’s father (maybe – he attempted suicide, we’re never told the outcome)
  • Guy in the junkyard

And then there may be characters from the Better Call Saul universe who may be around:

  • Kim
  • Howard
  • Nacho
  • Lalo

Various other cartel people, I suppose, although the cartel had dropped out of the BB storyline by the end of the series.

All of this leaves me quite curious as to what this conflict and tension is going to be about. My partial theory, apart from any individuals who might pop up with a stake in the matter:

El Camino is a genius title. It’s a vehicle, of course – the vehicle Jesse escapes in. But it also means, of course the road. The way, the journey. We’re going to see, I’m assuming, Jesse’s road – somewhere. Where? Everything that we know about this character up to this point moves us to root for that journey being to a place of freedom and peace, for we’ve seen that Jesse has a conscience – he’s capable of seeing to the other side and reaching for another way.  But what does that mean?  Is this going to be about Jesse battling his dueling desires for revenge or reconciliation? But then, again – revenge against WHO? All the neo-Nazis are dead. Walter White is dead (and yes, I think he’s dead – and if he weren’t, he’d be in prison, so….)

I’m very intrigued about how this is going to play out. Not because I labor under the delusion that Jesse Pinkman is a real person, but more because I’m interested to see how a talented creative mind works with the themes he’s laid out so carefully – themes that are universal and true and humane – and also how it plays out creatively. I’m fascinated by the creative process, period. We see a piece of art and we think that it sprang fully-formed from the mind of the creator, but of course that’s not the way it is at all – and that’s what makes the creative process so terrifying. You set out to create something, and sure, what you create might be wonderful, but odds are the final product is quite different from your original vision.  The character of Jesse Pinkman was supposed to be killed off early on – but he lived, and as such, embodied this theme of sin and its impact in an important way – in the perversion of the teacher-student relationship that the Walt-Jesse duo became. For Walt could have actually helped this young man turn his life around. Think about it. Upon discovering what Jesse was up to, he could have done something to help – instead, he used the kid’s “skills” and position to his own advantage, feeding his own shame and pride and bringing Jesse right down with him.

I mean – it’s Walt that Jesse needs to either take revenge on or make peace with.

But Walter White is dead.

Right? 

 

Finally? My prediction? I think he’s going to turn himself in and his “I’m ready” is the answer to a question of if he was ready to go.

Fight me!

Oh, and here are the lyrics to the song accompanying the trailer. By Reuben and the Dark, it’s called “Black Water:”

Well I get high and I get low
Oh but that’s the way
These things go
I saw my face in the mirror
Though I know I’ve changed
Though I look
Much the same
I found grace in the black water bathe my soul
And tell my heart
I told you so
I like fate in the lion’s cage
And wait for my time to come
But I’m begging please
I need this so
More than you’ll ever know
Oh well, I get high and I get low
Oh, but that’s the way these things go
I saw my face in the mirror
And though I know I’ve changed
Though it looks
Much the same
I found grace in the black water bathe my soul
And tell my heart
I told you so

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Well, let’s get back to SpainBlogging. Even though that’s in Italian up there. You’ll get it in a minute.

(Other posts have finally been collated here)

This, to many, will probably be to oddest aspect of this trip report. The oddest and the most indulgent. I won’t say “self-indulgent” because it wasn’t me who was being indulged. But indulgent, nonetheless.

Of course, everything else about this trip was indulgent, anyway. Freely admitted. A few months back, someone posted a link to one of my travel posts on Facebook, and discussion ensued along the lines of  “Gee, must be nice” and so on. I didn’t get defensive, because I am past that. I’m more at the stage of “You guys post gushing posts about your best-friend- hubbies and great marriages and your wonderful parents  every single freaking day and all of my people in those particular categories are completely dead, so maybe you can handle posts about Spain and trying, in some feeble, undoubtedly misguided way, to fill in…gaps.”

So yeah. When you’re raising boys with a dead father, and all the family news around you is about people dying or being plunged into dementia, you’re like, “What the hell. You like all this Spaghetti Western Stuff? Screw it. Let’s do this.”

For some reason, a couple of years ago, Son #5 became entranced with the Sergio Leone/Clint Eastwood/Ennio Morricone opus. I really and truly do not know how it happened – if it was the movies or the music that grabbed him first. All I know is that he watched them, and then the soundtracks became a fixture in our home. They came on every time I got in the car. They were on the top of the queue of Spotify when I was cooking dinner. They were learned and played on the piano – constantly.

I’d never watched any of them. Never. But I just endured it and supported it and what have you. And then last summer, the local vintage artsy heritage downtown movie palace offered The Good, The Bad and The Ugly as part of their summer series, and so I took Son #5 –

– and was enraptured.

Okay, not with the lengthy, discursive Civil War section that culminates in the bridge explosion – that could be cut – but with almost everything else, especially the music.

I got it. 

People sometimes wonder – why should I have kids? 

Well, here’s Reason #428. Because whenever you invite other people into your life – and that’s what having kids is all about – your own world expands. It could be something essential, or it could be something trivial. You learn something, you see more, you step out, you move down the road – and it’s all just very, very interesting.

So, let’s go back to this trip. I didn’t design it around spaghetti westerns – if I had, the trip would have looked much different (for all of those movies were filmed in Spain, and there’s even an attraction in southern Spain centered on it).  I settled on Seville as a base and then, for that last week, a possible jaunt up north, ending in Bilbao.

Which is when it dawned on me – Sad Hill Cemetery. 

And I figured – well, yes, this could happen. We’d watched the rather moving (although overlong) documentary about the site’s restoration, and once I studied the map, it was clear , yes, this was possible. We could work in a stop at that iconic site.

So there was that.

And then a few weeks before we left, I was doing some research – unrelated to this trip. I was thinking about M’s and mine future roadschooling future, and poking around, trying to see if there were any interesting concerts coming up to which we could travel. I was thinking, first, of the Michael Giacchino “We Have to Go Back”  Lost concerts, and then I idly thought (maybe because of similar-sounding Italian names)…hmmmm…what about Morricone? 

Oh.

What I stumbled upon was the fact that the 90-year old maestro was embarking upon his “last tour,” conducting concerts in Spain and Italy during the spring and summer. Unfortunately, the Spain concerts would be in May, but – well, look at this – one of them – in fact – THE LAST  – (as advertised) concert would be in Lucca, Italy – on a date during which we’d be in Europe.

*Checks RyanAir fares from Madrid to Pisa. Cheap. Struggles with guilt. Thinks – well, we’d be paying for housing *somewhere* – why not in Italy, instead of Spain for a couple of nights?*

Thinks – as per usual – about death and mortality – and pushes – BUY.

So there’s your backstory, people. Your backstory as to how we went to Ennio Morricone’s supposed last concert on Saturday, June 29 in Lucca, Italy – and then a couple of days later, were wandering around the Sad Hill Cemetery – the famed round cemetery from the final scene The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. 

A word about the journey to the cemetery – if you go (and you might well have arrived at this post because that’s where you’re headed) – do not go through Santo Domingo de Silos.  It’s what we did, and it was a mistake – I mean, the car survived, but it was dicey – a super steep hilly, incredibly rocky path. The other way – that comes from the north ( the way we exited) – is much safer for your vehicle.

 

The concert was great. Thousands of people, enraptured with the music, the fantastic, theatrical sopranos giving their super-dramatic all on pieces like The Ecstasy of Gold  – just Italians loving other Italians doing music. The best.

I will say that the bright spot about the rather frightening drive up a very steep hill on rocky paths in a rental car was…this view. Which we would have missed coming the other way. So – there’s that. And no damage to the car anyway, so it’s all good!

 

 

Yes, there was much re-creation of the scene. Running, seeking, fake digging, falling into graves and such. I might post some of that on Instagram in a bit. We weren’t alone. When we arrived there were three middle-aged British guys who’d arrived on motorcycles. They left, and we were alone for a good bit, and as we were living, two other small groups came. Plus, you know….

…cows.

Which is not something I expected! The ground was covered with cow patties, and as we ventured further in, we saw the reason, just up the hill, behind the trees, we heard them – the cowbells, gently sounding. As the minutes wore on, the cows moved closer, past the trees, until they had started, apparently, their late-day claim among the “graves.”

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I have one more strange aspect to this whole tale. I purchased the concert tickets via a resale outfit. The way it works is that you still see the original purchaser’s names on the receipt.

I did a double take at the name. The address was given as well. It sort of checked out. This person is originally from Edmonton, Alberta, although his present professional position is elsewhere in Canada.

So. Do you think it’s possible that my weird tickets to go, on a whim, see an elderly, legendary composer in Lucca, Italy, were purchased from the  Jordan Peterson?

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— 1 —

Today’s the feast of the Chair of St. Peter.

Last year, I was in Living Faith on that day. Here’s the devotion I wrote:

Do not lord it over those assigned to you, but be examples to the flock.

– 1 Peter 5:3

When I think about each of the important older people in my life (all deceased because I’m one of the older ones now), all are associated with a chair.

My father’s preferred spot was his desk chair in his study. My mother spent her days in her comfortable chair in the corner, surrounded by books. My great-aunt was not to be disturbed as she watched afternoon soap operas from her wingback chair. My grandfather had his leather-covered lounger, its arms dotted with holes burned by cigars.

From their chairs, they observed, they gathered, they taught and they provided a focus for the life around them. There was wisdom in those chairs.

I’m grateful for the gift of Peter, our rock. From his chair–the sign of a teacher–he and his successors gather and unify us in our focus on the One who called him–and all of us.

— 2 —

Tomorrow’s the feast of St. Polycarp:
He is in my Loyola Kids’ Book of Saints.  

—3–

Here’s Terry Teachout on Accessibility and its Discontents

I feel the same way, which is why I don’t have a smartphone. What’s more, I know that my ability to concentrate—to cut myself free from what I once called in this space the tentacles of dailiness—has been diminished by my use of Twitter and Facebook. Josef Pieper said it: “Leisure is a form of that stillness that is the necessary preparation for accepting reality; only the person who is still can hear, and whoever is not still, cannot hear.” To be on line is the opposite of being still.

–4–

What does a conductor listen to as his country falls apart?

Here’s an interview with our Alabama Symphony conductor, Carlos Izcaray, who is Venezuelan:

At the top of his playlist? The turbulent “Symphony No. 10,” by Soviet-era composer Dmitri Shostakovich.

“This is a piece that was written just after the death of one of the worst tyrants in history, Stalin, and of course, Shostakovich had to endure many, many years under this regime,” Izcaray (@izcaray) tells Here & Now’s Peter O’Dowd. “The movement … the second one, it’s got this militaristic, highly volcanic energy to it, that is very much attuned to the frustration that many of us Venezuelans feel. And if you listen to the end of the piece, there is hope at the end of the storm.”

That storm is a personal one for Izcaray. In 2004, he was kidnapped, detained and tortured by the Hugo Chávez regime.

“I went through very bad mistreatment of all sorts, physical and psychological, [I was] threatened to death,” says Izcaray, who also now conducts the American Youth Symphony in Los Angeles. “And what I went through is what many people are going through now in Venezuela. We’re talking about students who are leading the marches, we’re talking about political prisoners.”

Izcaray’s detention caused him to spiral into a “depressive state.” But through music, he was slowly able to rebuild his life.

“I was going to have my big debut with the National Symphony Orchestra as a conductor. Everything was shattered,” Izcaray says. “But after a brief period of just darkness, my friends and my family, my father especially, brought music back to the equation for me. It was a way to heal — both literally and physically, because I had nerve damage in my arm. Playing the cello — I’m a cellist — so by playing music, I got better.

“I think that since then I’ve understood many of the layers that were, until then, not discovered by me — the power of music.”

Interview Highlights

On the Francis Poulenc composition “Four Motets on a Christmas Theme”

“This is a piece that, to me, every time I listen to it, I just — it’s like rediscovering the miracle that is music. It’s a spiritual peace, it’s just sheer beauty. I just think this piece elevates me to a different frequency. [It’s] hard to describe it, and it’s just a couple of minutes long. But I really think that Francis Poulenc captured the most intimate and profound elements of what it is to be a human being and this relationship with music.”

–5 —

Don’t forget Weird Catholic!

–6-

Son #2 continues to post film reviews several times a week.

Summer Interlude (Bergman)

1776

The Homeseman

Follow him on Twitter

 

–7–

Sexagesima Sunday this week:

 

amy-welborn

I’ve created a Lent page here.

 

For more Quick Takes, visit This Ain’t the Lyceum!

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ThursdayThis is just going to be a digest day. I need a break from Big Blogging Thoughts. I have a story I really want to finish a first draft of this week because another one has started popping up in my head, fighting for time. I’ll return to gendered thinking on Friday. Maybe this afternoon is this morning is fruitful.

So:

Watching: Unfortunately, I spent a couple of hours night before last rewatching Mad Men again. I say “unfortunately” because I’ve already seen these episodes at least twice, so there’s no valid reason for me to spend some of my brief, valuable time here on earth with those people again.

But then it’s season 6 and we get Boss Peggy and the genius casting of Harry Hamlin as Cutler and Bob Benson.  And great, great lines like Roger Sterling,  trying to sort through his feelings about his mother’s death with his therapist:

“My mother loved me in some completely pointless way and it’s gone. So there it is. She gave me my last new experience. And now I know that all I’m going to be doing from here on is losing everything.” 

So, yeah, I got sucked in.

Stayed up too late. Again.

Reading: 

In recent New Yorker issues (checked out from the library) – an article on Nashville hot chicken – mostly about Prince’s, the establishment at the heart of it, but comparing it with latecomers, most notably the small chain Hattie B’s. We have an Hattie B’s near our house, and my youngest loves it. He probably would eat there every day if he could. Interesting to me was the cultural appropriation angle to the story – Prince’s being African-American owned and Hattie B’s started by white guys.  But – I have to say – going to the Hattie B’s near my house is one of the most diverse experiences in a diverse part of town in a diverse city.  Always a slight edge to African-American customers, usually an Asian group and most of the time at least one customer in a hijab.

This story by Emma Cline – evocative and depressing, which is fine, because life can be that way.

As I noted earlier in the week, I finished The Woman in White. Inspired by this post by Eve Tushnet, I started The Comedians  –  one of the few Greene novels I’d not yet read.

Oh – and you might remember that earlier in the week we were reading The Comedy of Errors in anticipation of seeing a production this Friday. Well, scratch that. Turns out the production is in a very small theater and is sold out. Sad!

amy_welborn_Writing: 

I was in Living Faith yesterday. Here’s the driver who was the subject. Bought with his own hard-earned money.

I reposted a piece  on Flannery O’Connor’s book reviews on Medium. 

Here’s another son’s take on the film The Passion of Joan of Arc. Follow him on Twitter to keep updated on his movie posts and writing progress.

Joan’s eyes are wide with innocence as she navigates her interrogators’ questions, making them seem alternatively foolish and unserious. It’s both Joan’s strength and fragility, all told through Falconetti’s performance, that sells the conflict. We are with her from the beginning to the end, and it’s quite an emotional journey.

And of course, two long-winded blog posts. Just click back to the links at the top of this post for those.

Listening:

I stopped in Chick-Fil-A last night to pick up food for Son #4 since it’s Son #5’s church-thing-night where they feed him. I noticed this gaggle of women in there, all dressed in similar outfits – a little Boho, each wearing black hats with rims. They were clearly evoking someone or something and they sure were stoked, but I had no idea about who or what.

Shrugs. Gets a #8 Meal. 

After I got him his food, I headed back downtown. My destination was this concert – a free piano concert, an annual tradition at our Birmingham Museum of Art. M and I had attended last year. It was too bad he couldn’t go this year – but, hey – it was free and in the same vicinity as his church thing, so why not use that hour in an elevated way instead of killing time on a screen?

Well, traffic was horrendous. I was reasonably certain that the 2017 Van Cliburn competition silver medalist wasn’t attracting that kind of audience, so as I stopped at a light with a river of red taillights in front of me, I tried to figure out what was going on –

Ah – 

Fleetwood Mac 

Now it all comes together, not least the Stevie Nicks fan club in Chick-Fil-A. 

Well, I finally found parking a few blocks from the museum – really, I should have just parked at the Cathedral – and hustled down there. As I walked in the front door, applause echoed through the building, much louder than it should have been – the museum as a large auditorium on the ground floor, and this was just up the stairs, right in front of me.

And sure enough, the space that usually holds the tables for the museum’s restaurant was filled instead with rows of chairs with a baby grand at the head. As they were explaining as I snuck in the back, the piano in the auditorium was broken, they were unable to fix it, so here they were.

It was a lovely concert – although being in the back row on a floor that wasn’t graded meant that of course I couldn’t see anything. Which was fine – it forced me to really listen in a closer way.

He played:

César Franck | Harold Bauer Prélude, Fugue et Variation, op. 18

Johann Sebastian Bach Toccata in C Minor, BWV 911

Ludwig van Beethoven Sonata No. 31 in A-flat Major, op. 110

I will say that listening to my son play his pieces dozens, if not hundreds of times, has taught me a great deal about music and made listening in concert settings – which I always enjoyed anyway – even more interesting.

Contemporary Catholic motherhood talk is still miles better than secular talk, but still, it tends to miss a few beats, I think. The talk is still all about me. About how motherhood makes me a better person.

Well, it does, yes.

But the most amazing thing about motherhood – about parenthood – is the gift of cooperating with God, even unintentionally and accidentally – in putting unique human beings into the world, people with interests and gifts and their own weird journeys.

And, to bring it back around to a self-centered bullseye on this Valentine’s Day – how that expands our world, doesn’t it? To help create a community in which you’re enriched and grow by engaging with all that they engage with – their sports, their movies, their music, their work experiences, their people.

Who would we be without them?

 

 

 

 

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Well! Happy Birthday, Jesus!

— 2 —

I’m in Living Faith today. 

Remember: if you would like more of the same – every day of 2019! –  check out:

—3–

Thanks to Steve McEvoy for including my short story “The Absence of War” and two of my son’s short story collections in his best reads of the last quarter of 2018. 

–4–

Everyone has their favorite Christmas music, and in These Times, even their curated Christmas lists on Spotify and such – hey, I do! – and here are three of my favorites.

It’s still Christmas, people!

Celebremos el Nino – Christmas Delights from the Mexican BaroqueI love the music of the Latin American Baroque, and this is a wonderful introduction.

A Renaissance Christmas from the Boston Camereta. This gets the heaviest rotation, hands down.

Carols from the Old and New Worlds. 

And of course, the best Christmas song of all time: Merry Christmas from the Family by the master, Robert Earl Keen. 

Little sister brought her new boyfriend/He was a Mexican/We didn’t know what to think about him til he sang Feliz Navidad..Feliz Navidad

Of course he brought his new wife Kay/who talks all about AA/chain smoking while the stereo plays Noel, Noel….the First Noel.

–5 —

The only John Waters I knew of was the filmmaker, so I was confused to run across this article about the current state of Irish society and culture by one John Waters – who, I discovered is quite a different person. Judging from this article, I’ll be searching out more by him: Ireland, keep your opinions to yourself. 

What he says here is not just about Ireland, though:

Most people out there nowadays tend to speak in code, to avoid pursuit by the guardians of the new orthodoxies. Others just play along, reserving their energy for battles about immediate things.

There is this odd situation whereby a majority, or at least a sizeable minority, of the population is appalled and scundered at the way things seem to be going, but dare not give any indication that they are dismayed. This generalised sense of confusion and disgust is a great secret, even between people who hold to the same view. At the level of the central conversation, the facts are denied or distorted to uphold the official line that only a tiny minority of recalcitrant throwbacks have any difficulty with anything that is happening.

Most people daren’t even enumerate these current absurdities, but are dimly aware of the patterns: in the obsession with personal freedom expressed sexually, and the unrelenting emphasis on the ‘rights’ of nominated categories of person in the matter of doing whatever they please.

They observe these agendas being driven in the media by what are termed ‘human stories’ – carefully selected sociological narratives, chosen and tweaked to indict the past and the way things used to be seen and done. There are the women who have been denied abortions and the women who have had abortions and seem to be proud of this. Both are deemed heroines, or is that heroes?

There are the men who are really women and the women who are really men, and the men or women who are men one day and women the next. What was a short time ago unheard of is now, it seems, ubiquitous.

At the core of all this is what appears to be an attempt to insinuate sex and sexuality as the centre of human existence, human happiness, human being. It is not possible to dissent from it, even to ask that you be spared the details. In the alleged new era of truth-letting, no one is entitled to claim an amnesty or immunity.

Because the lie has been sold that everyone was involved in suppressing and oppressing those who have now ‘bravely risen up’, everyone must show up to salute their bravery and applaud their freedom. ‘No thanks’ is not an acceptable response, being likely to qualify as hostility, which invariably qualifies for a designation with an ‘ism’ or an ‘obia’ at the end of it.

This new culture has crept up on us, so that for a long time many people thought it was just a few isolated groups of soreheads demanding this and that entitlement they say had been denied them. Now, people are beginning to twig that there is a pattern here and that it is growing more insistent and pronounced.

The escalation of this new culture has taken on an exponential character, to the extent that it often seems to be dictating the nature and significance of everything the media suggests as important. Chat shows are dominated with the stories of people who would once have been considered to have a bit of a want on them.

These individual stories seem, moreover, to be connected, and plugged into the central grid of agenda-setting, which in turn appears to emanate from a lobby sector that commands the ear of government and instant access to the media. One story is crazier than the last, and tame compared to the next. But the weird thing is that nobody ever says – or at least not publicly – that the stories are crazy; instead, the subjects of them are congratulated for their ‘courage’ in speaking so personally about things that most people think should remain private.

Anyone who dissents from this analysis is likely to be eviscerated – first on social media, and then in the mainstream, which is essentially the same people acting in, respectively, their anonymous and bylined manifestations.

Most people are simply perplexed by all this and confounded as to where it is coming from and going to. The idea that it is simply a series of isolated stories is starting to wear thin, and people are becoming more open to the idea that something fundamental has shifted in our culture, though they cannot even begin to say what.

–6–

Two more links, related – really. Can you catch the connection?

A thread in Waters’ piece is trans-authoritarianism, which Twitter watchers saw on display this past week as tennis great Martina Navratliova committed wrongthink and heresy by opining that maybe it’s not right for men to compete in women’s sports. Geez.

Many of us have been waiting a very long time for ‘peak trans’ to be reached, and for liberals, faint-hearted feminists, journalists and politicians to break out of their cowardly complacency and face the reality – that extreme trans activism is misogyny. Perhaps peak trans may well have arrived, thanks to the latest valiant efforts of the transbullies.

The latest target in the vicious and often violent war being raged by extreme trans activists is one of my all-time heroes – the world tennis champion and LGBT rights campaigner, Martina Navratilova.

Navratilova has been accused of being ‘transphobic’ as a result of a tweet responding to a question from a follower about transgender women in sport.

From another angle, Julian Vigo in Forbes on an issue centered in a particular British context with British organizations, but her point is applicable in a wider context:

The reality is that there is a burgeoning medical industry and social apparatus which seek to label gender non-conforming children as “transgender” and which then undertakes to medicalize these children. And this trend is hardly limited to the United Kingdom. In the US,  Diane Ehrensaft, Director of Mental Health at San Francisco’s Child and Adolescent Gender Center, gives the some rather unscientific examples of transgender identification in small children—from a toddler ripping out her barrettes, a one-year-old girl enunciating “I boy,” and a one-year-old unsnapping his onesies. One need not read beyond these examples to see some very dangerous reductions made between what is a child’s natural behavior in experimenting with the world around and adults ready to fixate on every action to lend a reading of gender. Rather than focus on “gender” as the “problem,” it is far more likely that toddlers find barrettes and onesies uncomfortable, just for starters.

With organizations like Mermaids attempting to “educate” those within the public health services, teachers, and parents, we must be wary of the hokum being pawned off as “science.” It’s no more scientific than talking clownfish. And the downside of this story is that such balderdash is affecting our culture and ability to speak frankly with each other about the reality of sex and social expectations placed upon each sex. The true revolution around gender will come when we stop attempting to match or alter sexed bodies to a presumed “correct gender.”

–7–

All right, let’s get back to good news:

Our parish has been all in for Christmas, celebrating and praising through liturgy and sacred music and seeking to bring grace into ordinary life through the means that the Church has developed over time – no need for a committee to dream up a paraliturgy and make slides.

The music for Christmastide at the Cathedral of St. Paul.

The blessing of wine on the feast of St. John. (I missed it because I was on the road, doing the Birmingham-Gainesville-Birmingham journey.)

The blessing and distribution of Epiphany chalk.

(Add that to the Rorate Mass earlier in Advent.)

And nearby, the Fraternity Poor of Jesus Christ, invited to take up residence in the city by the Cathedral and diocese, were present:

For more Quick Takes, visit This Ain’t the Lyceum!

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If you only come here on Fridays, scroll back a bit for reports on last weekend, which included a wonderful Rorate Mass at the Cathedral of St. Paul in Birmingham as well as Bambinelli Sunday.

If you’re interested, here are the music programs for the Cathedral’s upcoming liturgies, which will include the praying of the Office of Readings before Midnight Mass.

Here’s the general list of the music at all liturgies (links)

Here’s the Order of Worship (pdf) for Midnight Mass. 

  • We welcome you to our solemn Midnight Mass. This sung Mass is sung by Cathedral Choir; this year’s Mass ordinary is Tomas Luis de Victoria’s famous Missa “O Magnum Mysterium”, one of the most famous Masses of the high Renaissance. Also presented is the motet “O magnum mysterium” by the same composer, along with the various Gregorian chant propers of the day.

  • This year, the 11:15PM prelude is replaced by the celebration of sung Office of Readings from the Liturgy of the Hours. This office (for Christmas Day) recalls the offices of Vigils and Matins, from which the Office of Readings is derived. Consisting of a number of psalms, readings, and responsories, this is a beautiful way to prepare for the celebration of the Christmas season. It concludes with a sung, solemn Te Deum.

  • Between the Office of Readings and Midnight Mass, Cathedral Choir will present Ihr lieben Christen, freut euch nun/Good Christians, rejoice, BuxWV 51, by Dietrich Buxtehude. This important sacred work, composed for the Sunday evening “Abendlied” Vespers services that Buxtehude began for the Marienkirche in Hamburg, alternates between instrumental, choral, and solo movements, and is an the ancestor of J.S. Bach’s transcendent cantatas.

 

— 2 —

These quick takes will function as a digest of sorts as well.

(Again, for those of you who only come on Fridays, a few days of each week, I attempt a “digest” of what I’m watching/reading/listening to.

Related image

Watching: Tonight (Thursday) we watched The Killing – Kubrick’s first Hollywood movie. Great stuff – short and not-sweet at all. A marvelous array of character actors, including Tim Carey’s bizarre turn as the puppy-stroking sharpshooter Nikki, whose interactions with a parking attendant also flesh out the era’s racial politics in quick strokes, and Elisha Cook Jr., weak link in the plan from start to finish, but who comes out with the most arresting and iconic final shots.

Image result for the killing kubrick

(That was after they went and saw the Spiderman cartoon in the afternoon, which they said was really good.)

I’m hoping to watch Roma over the next week some time.

—3–

Reading: I read a really terrible novel this week. It’s a new novel by a living writer (well, duh) and it’s not like I know this person or anything, but I still don’t feel quite right about trashing it by title. It struck me as weak after the first twenty pages and probably almost worthless after the next, but I kept on reading. Partly because it was short, and a short genre novel – it’s like sitting and watching television for an hour or so. Which is probably not the best use of my time, but there I was.

It had a Catholic – not theme, but hook – and the author obviously had some knowledge of Catholic things – the lingo was correct (sort of like the Mystery Catholic who writes for The Onion) and, okay I take that back – I guess there was  sort of redemption thread happening, but wow. The writing was stilted and repetitive, plotting was coarse and characterization wasn’t even an option, it seems.

Why did I keep reading it?

To encourage myself to keep writing. 

Mostly.

Also reading a lot about Seville. Spain.

–4–

Writing: Speaking of which. Got an invitation to work on a small project that will be due at the end of January.

My guys will be gone for a few days over Christmas, and in the time I’m not in Charleston, I’ll be here, hopefully finishing up story #2 and maybe thinking more about longer fiction. I have something started – I just don’t know if what I envision is doable. By me, at least.

We’ll see.

–5 —

All right, we’ll finish up with links.

Perhaps you’ve heard about the Der Spiegel writer who is in big, big trouble. Deservedly. 

Seriously, if you haven’t, read this Medium takedown of his “report” on Smalltown, USA and be amazed and perhaps even enraged. 

Yes, this guy is a piece of work and an extreme example of journalistic malpractice, but after a zillion years on the planet, I’ve learned to view any piece of reportage that claims  to paint a picture of a place or movement with skepticism from the ground up.

Where does that leave us? I’m not sure. Probably where we’ve always been all along, just trying to figure out the truth.

–6–

This is an entertaining Twitter feed: Terrible Maps.

–7–

I’m usually allergic to year-end roundup things, but you might find useful bits here: 18 Pieces of Goodness in Pop Culture in 2018. 

It’s the memorial of St. Peter Canisius. Read about him here. 

 

 

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