Tradition

I’ve been doing a lot of genealogy work lately, researching my family history. It’s a great hobby, makes the hours fly by like nothing else.

As my research continues, I understand more how deeply my roots are embedded in this area: not only Oregon’s Willamette Valley, but specifically the ten mile radius around Zion Mennonite Church.

My Roth ancestors came here in 1889. They helped found Zion in 1893. My Sharp ancestors settled here soon after. Now many descendants of the Roths and the Sharps still live here, as do descendants of the Kropfs and the Yoders and the Kauffmans and the Gingeriches from which the original community was built.

I’m still here. I’m tied to this place by deep roots of tradition.

Tevye
A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But here in our little village of Anatevka you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a pleasant simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn’t easy.

You may ask why do we stay up there if it’s so dangerous? Well, we stay because Anatevka is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word: Tradition!

Because of our traditions we’ve kept our balance for many many years. Because of our traditions everyone of us knows who he is and what God expects him to do.

Papas
Who, day and night, must scramble for a living,
Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers?
And who has the right, as master of the house,
To have the final word at home?

The Papa, the Papa! Tradition.
The Papa, the Papa! Tradition.

Mamas
Who must know the way to make a proper home,
A quiet home, a kosher home?
Who must raise the family and run the home,
So Papa’s free to read the holy books?

The Mama, the Mama! Tradition!
The Mama, the Mama! Tradition!

Sons
At three, I started Hebrew school. At ten, I learned a trade.
I hear they’ve picked a bride for me. I hope she’s pretty.

Daughters
And who does Mama teach to mend and tend and fix,
Preparing me to marry whoever Papa picks?

Children
The daughters (sons), the daughters (sons)! Tradition!
The daughters (sons), the daughters (sons)! Tradition!

Tevye
Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof.

I was raised in Anatevka. I live there still, but in the past I have turned my backs upon its traditions, have mocked them even.

I am older now, and see things differently. Maybe I do have room for these traditions, even if they serve a different role in my life than in the life of others. Maybe it is possible to reconcile these traditions with who I am today.

So I’ve been thinking: where is it written that in order for me to attend church I must profess a belief in a god? Where is it written that my presence at church is an admission that I believe in a god? As Jenn said yesterday: “People go to church for a lot of different reasons,” only one of which is a desire to worship a deity. Nick wants to visit Zion this Sunday for the singing. He misses it.

If I choose to spend my Sunday mornings at Zion Mennonite Church, do not take the wrong impression. I will not go there to worship; I will go there to be with my family, to participate in the traditions of Anatevka.

I want to do so without expectations being placed upon me. I want to do so without causing distress to Kris or to anyone else. I want to do so with the understanding that it is not god that brings me to this place; it is the bond of family which ties me to this church, to this congregation, to these people.

Comments

On 19 December 2002 (01:48 PM),
Joelah said:

You bring up an interesting question: Can/Should we celebrate traditions without believing in or honoring that which inspired them? The whole singing a song about God, in a setting that is constructed for the worship of said God, in amongst a group of other singers who are singing FOR God… being part of a situation and only participating in it fractionally? What would/will the true believers say about this? A lot of them, I suppose, would cheer you on, appreciative of the values that bring you there, or hoping that from a partial participation would grow a full one. Others, though, might be disturbed by the motions you’re going through.
As far as the whole, “Tradition” angle, I say chuck it. We cannot ever fully free ourselves from our cultural underpinnings, we must always be aware of our biases and influences, but why celebrate them?

On 19 December 2002 (02:50 PM),
Dana said:

It sounds to me like you are missing the sense of community that Church provided (as well as the music and the traditions of your childhood). There’s nothing wrong with nostalgia, of course.

However, I think there is something a bit disingenuous about attending a religious worship service when you are an atheist. If people who are there worshiping know you are an atheist and accept your presence, that’s one thing, but if they actually think you believe, well, I think they would be within their rights to be upset and/or exclude you.

You ask where it’s written that you have to believe in god to partake. I think that’s sort of implicit in churchgoing — that’s the primary purpose, and the singing and community are secondary manifestations of that purpose.

(Shrug)

On the other tentacle, unless they ask and/or you volunteer the information, I can’t imagine anybody would really know. Of course, Canby isn’t exactly a big town, and you have history in the church, and there is such a thing as gossip.

On 19 December 2002 (04:58 PM),
Dave said:

And a weblog…

On 19 December 2002 (06:28 PM),
J.D. said:

Ha!

I’ve made no secret of my atheism, but neither have I been evangelical about it. My fear is that attending church would lead others to believe, incorrectly, that I had returned to a life of faith. Kris is already afraid this is true.

On 20 December 2002 (12:41 AM),
Drew said:

It sounds like your desire to attend church is a longing for community and ritual – both fine reasons for participating in a religious organization – ITWATA (in the world according to Andrew). It seems peculiar that you are so concerned about other people’s reaction to your participation. If it gives you something you need then that should be enough. ITWATA a church is a place where one goes to delve for a personal revelation of truth. It is not a place where prepackaged dogma is force fed like bad fast food. This is probably why I’m a Unitarian. At the risk of sounding evangelistic, you might enjoy a Unitarian service – cerebral, often political, heavy on music, light on dogma. The sum of UU doctrine basically amounts to seven principles:

The inherent worth and dignity of every person

Justice, equality and compassion in human relations

Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations

A free and responsible search for truth and meaning

The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large

The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all

Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.”

Oooops, that probably is evangelism. I’d better stop.

Happy holidays.

On 20 December 2002 (07:09 AM),
J.D. Roth said:

It seems peculiar that you are so concerned about other people’s reaction to your participation. If it gives you something you need then that should be enough.

To an extent, I agree. However, one of the hallmarks of J.D.-ness is empathy; I do worry about how others feel. Not because I’m afraid of what they think of me, but because I do not want to make them uncomfortable. I don’t want to create marriage strain by going to church; it’s not worth it. I don’t want to cause the church members any anxiety; it’s not my intent.

ITWATA a church is a place where one goes to delve for a personal revelation of truth.

That’s not really what I’m after, though. You hit the nail on the head when you said I wanted “community and ritual”. These are missing from my life. (I get some community via friends and book group, but on a much smaller scale than what I crave.)

At the risk of sounding evangelistic, you might enjoy a Unitarian service – cerebral, often political, heavy on music, light on dogma.

This doesn’t sound evangelistic, but it also is not what I’m looking for. I do not want to participate in just *any* church service; I want to participate in the services at Zion Mennonite Church in Hubbard, Oregon. It is in this one place that my family roots are deep, with which I feel kinship to the congregation. I don’t want to create new family bonds, I want to revisit the old ones.

On 21 December 2002 (01:29 PM),
Dana said:

Do or do not. There is no try.

As I said above, there’s nothing wrong with nostalgia. I expect that if you were to revisit for a service or three, no one would mind at all. However, if you are going to actually formally join the church, the church members might have a problem.

But if that’s what you want to do, then there’s not really going to be a substitute. You should try it out and see how people react.

If you know Kris is going to have a problem with it and you aren’t willing to add that strain to your life, then that pretty much answers that right there.

If you know what you want, and you aren’t willing to live with a known consequence of attaining it, then your only real option is giving that up and trying to find something else to satisfy your desire.

If your current life does not provide the ritual and community that you crave, and you feel you cannot get it at the familiar, childhood source, where else can it be found? Can things like book club provide more of it than they do now?

Revelations

I entered college a devout Christian and left it an atheist.

In the decade since graduation my atheism has become more profound but less vocal. Nothing that I have seen or heard or read has indicated to me that there is any sort of supernatural world, any spiritual realm, anything other than this physical world in which we live.

I have not turned my back on religion; religious belief continues to fascinate me, has shaped my life, but for myself, I do not believe.


As anyone, I am the sum of my prior experiences, the totality of all that I have heard, seen, read, and done. These experiences have — for better or worse — been filtered through the sieve of my mind until what remains is the essence of Who I Am.

But who am I?

I am a non-proselytizing atheist whose personal moral convictions are deeply rooted in both the Mormon and Mennonite faiths, those religions of my youth. My convictions are tempered by personal experience and by ideas from authors as diverse as Charles Dickens, Plato, Ursula LeGuin, John Stuart Mills, Ayn Rand, Joseph Campbell, Milan Kundera, Daniel Quinn, Kathleen Norris, Wendell Berry, ad infinitum.

I believe that one’s ultimate responsibility is to oneself and to one’s own happiness insofar as this happiness does not infringe upon the happiness of others.

Though I’m a devout atheist, I try not to be an evangelical atheist. Spiritual evangelism is a curse, a blight upon this world. Spiritual evangelism is responsible for most of the Great Evil that humankind has committed: past, present, and future. If your belief system is sound, if your god is the One True God, then others will come to know it through your actions; you needn’t foist your god upon them. Evangelism is the telemarketing of spirituality. I deplore it.

I deplore it in atheists as I deplore it in the religious.

I’m willing to share my spiritual beliefs (as I’ve done the past three days), but I’m not about to force them upon anyone, to espouse them as true for all people. I do not believe the world would be a better place if everyone were atheist. (Well…)

Spirituality is an individual thing. What is right for me may not be right for you. What is right for you is almost assuredly not right for me.


Though I am an atheist, I continue to grow spiritually. (It is perfectly possible to be spiritual without a belief in any supernatural presence.) Reading is my doorway to enlightenment, as it always has been.

Many of the books I read take religion, or spirituality, as a central theme. Why is this? Do I feel some fundamental lack in my life? Do I pine for god, for salvation?

No.

The quest for spiritual fulfillment has been a central human experience for millennia. It is a primary theme in the book of each person’s life. Naturally this has lead to an enormous body of literature in which religious and spiritual themes are explored. How can one help but read from this pool of books? Why would one want to avoid doing so?

I just finished Moby Dick: here is a book that is deeply spiritual without being religious, a book with spiritual themes applicable to all people, no matter whether they are Christian, Muslim, Hindu, animist, or atheist.

I enjoy reading about characters or ideas with which I disagree. To do so is often enlightening, illuminating myself and others.


I’m evolving. I keep an open mind, consider new ideas. (I see many of my friends and family cling to some idea or other and never let go — they do not grow or change. This works for them, and that’s fantastic. It does not work for me.)

Some of my best friends are Christians. Indeed, it could not be otherwise in this country, a nation in which ninety percent of the population is Christian and ninety-nine percent believe in god. I am friends with these people not because they are Christians, but because of who they are. I don’t care what a person’s religious belief is so long as they do not attempt to impose their beliefs on me.

The people I most admire are those who have undertaken an intellectual and spiritual journey and have ultimately been able to make that Kierkegaardian leap of faith, and who reveal their faith through actions rather than words. Ken Kauffman and Michael Hampton are two that I admire; they are intelligent, learned, and devout. Paul Jolstead (who, incidentally, posted a comment to yesterday’s entry as I finished this one) is making this spirtiual journey, has traded his atheism for agnosticism for spiritualism and, perhaps, religion. His journey is thoughtful and deliberate, stopping at many points to explore ideas he finds along the way. I do not know what point he will reach, but I know it will not be an arbitrary choice, but a result of reading and thought. To an extent, Andrew Cronk is also making this journey.


I try to live a life that adheres to fundamental Christian values (especially Mennonite values), yet a life that does not require a belief in god, and a life that does not focus on the little things. It seems to me that spirituality and religion should not be about the details (“thou shalt not masturbate”, “thou shalt not drink strong drinks”, “thou shalt not eat pork”, etc.), but about the Big Picture instead.

It’s possible for an atheist to be more Christian than most Christians. This seems a worthy goal.

It’s no longer important to me that I be Right, that I find the One True Way. I don’t believe there is One True Way. It’s more important that I live a happy, fulfilled life and that my actions do not interfere with the happiness of those around me.


Yesterday’s entry has engendered several thoughtful responses to this subject. It’s as good a place as any to continue the conversation.

Comments

On 27 November 2002 (12:33 PM),
Dana said:

a) “What is right for you is almost assuredly not right for me.”

b) “…this has lead to an enormous body of literature in which religious and spiritual themes are explored. How can one help but read from this pool of books? Why would one want to avoid doing so?”

Quote a) answers quote b) quite handily. An unspoken assumption of tolerance of others beliefs and actions is that just because you don’t see a reason for it doesn’t mean there isn’t one. It’s wrong or not deserving of respect.

c) “I enjoy reading about characters or ideas with which I disagree. To do so is often enlightening, illuminating myself and others.”

I think this is quite interesting, JD. No matter how much you enjoy reading about characters with which you disagree, you seem to actively dislike TALKING to people with whom you disagree about topics where you don’t see eye to eye.

I wonder if you would enjoy Aegypt, by John Crowley. It’s out of print and my copy got loaned out and not returned years ago. Good book, though, and one of it’s central themes is the evolution of the World View of society as a whole. Sort of.

On 27 November 2002 (12:57 PM),
J.D. said:

Dana, I cannot follow your first point. Could you rephrase it? I understand that you think A answers B, but the verbiage of the second part of your statement loses me…

I don’t think one should avoid being exposed to a body of literature (or anything else) simply because the ideas contained therein might be unpalatable.

I chose a secular school rather than a religious school because it seemed foolish to forego the broader experience. I’ve learned that I like Chinese, Thai, Viatnamese, Indian, Mexican, Ethiopian, and Lebanese foods because I’m open to new things, even I’m happy with what I already eat. Though I’m happy to sample this food, I wouldn’t want to have a steady diet of any one cuisine. “Variety is the spice of life that gives it all its flavor.”

Regarding your second point: I do at time avoid conflict, epsecially when I think it is the best interest of the relationship which is affected by the conflict.

In general, though, I believe I’m quite open to discussing controversial topics with people with whom I disagree.

I am willing to allow for give and take. I share my ideas, I listen to what the other person thinks. I may even incorporate some of what they believe into my own mindset. If the person with whom I’m having the conversation is equally open, I enjoy the conversation.

But if the person with whom I’m having the conversation is open, not willing to consider my viewpoint, is only making a show of listening to my points, I don’t enjoy the conversation. In these instances, it’s like talking to a wall.

Then again, maybe my self-perception differs from others’ perception of me…

On 27 November 2002 (01:46 PM),
Dana said:

Ah, trying to be too minimal for my own good :)

Your second statement ends with:

“How can one help but read from this pool of books? Why would one want to avoid doing so?.”

These questions are written in such a way as to imply that they have a specific answer. The implied answers are that people can’t help but read from this pool of books and that there isn’t a reason for wanting to avoid doing so.

Are those implied answers true? Are they universal? In my opinion, no. And I feel that the first quote I included gives the reason that those implied answers are in fact not universal answers.

To put it another way, I agree with the first quote about what’s right for one not necessarily being right for another. I disagree about there being no reason for avoiding books with religious and spiritual themes. I disagree that people can’t help but read from books on this topic.

(Shrug)

That’s all. Not exactly an earth-shattering revelation or anything :)

On the second topic, I guess I’m probably bringing along baggage from some of our earlier conversations.

I don’t think I’m wrong in lumping myself into the group of friends and family who “cling to an idea” and “never change”, at least in your view.

Some (many?) of our past conversations have left one or both of us frustrated at how pig-headed and uncomprehending the other person is, even though we both see ourselves as emminently reasonable and tolerant people. We are each perceiving the other person as being the unlistening wall, while we each think of ourselves as listening reasonably to the other and comprehending their point of view.

Clearly, one or both of us is wrong on this.

The last time this happened, I spent a lot of time thinking about the circumstances and my own role in our conversation. You ended the conversation rather abruptly because you felt it was putting our friendship at risk, and that avoiding the convlict was better than having the conflict.

I felt no such risk. Your disagreement with me did not make me feel that you were less of a friend, or that I couldn’t talk to you, even if you continued not to (in my perception) get my points.

But clearly either you felt differently, or something I was doing gave you a different impression of how I was feeling.

I guess on some level I see conflict as part of life. Yes, there are times when (and certain people with whom) I desperately avoid it, but on the whole there’s no way for it to be removed entirely, and sometimes I accept and relish it.

I see you as even more conflict-avoidance prone than I am.

(Shrug)

Also, I think you tend to argue your positions more from an emotional place than what I what I would call a logical one. You present emotionally persuasive arguments, not necessarily logical ones. Again, perhaps that’s baggage from earlier arguments we’ve had.

I dunno.

On 27 November 2002 (04:55 PM),
Paul said:

JD,

I still admire your discussion. I hope what I add will not be construed as trying to sway you or proselytizing in any way.

I knew a girl in College that took a liking to me, I have no idea why because she was very religious (conservative Protestant). We spoke about Religion often and I said that I’m not one to believe but that I wish I could. She was trying to win me over to her side (she eventually gave up on a lost cause). I tell you this because I wonder that if that “wishing” I could believe was enough of a seed that led me to where I am now.

A few years later I starting reading Tibetan Buddhist books starting with The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. I collected and read a couple dozen of these and read as much as I could. In one of them it said to let the possibility of belief be an intellectual challenge to oneself, ‘it’s ok if you don’t entirely belive now, just try it out for a while’. Pretty shrewd. I went to a sitting meditation once, sitting, breathing for an hour–longest hour ever.

I even started reading about Islam (as unpolitik as that might be right now). I went to a Friday afternoon meeting and felt about as out of place as a person can be.

I credit W. Berry with getting me to realize that I have a home religion, Christianity, and that there is plenty about the heritage to learn about and honor. I wrestled long and hard about what a “native” religion is (what is native to me a Norwegian/Irish North American, why is Christianity more native than Shinto?).

Another conversation: Sitting at a Canby HS teacher BBQ, drinking beer and talking spirituality with L. Kraxberger. Finally he says, “Oh, so you’re a dilettante?” Blankly I smiled,at first proud of the title then asked, “What’s that?” He said, “Someone who only reads about things but does’t actually DO them…”

Ouch.

That same fact came back a few years later, I can read all I want about this stuff but it’s just an intellectual exercise until I actually do something, meaning jump in and see what it’s truly like.

One of the hardest things I’ve done is to walk in the door of the church for the first time on my own terms(that is, not because my Mom and Dad were going).

Again, thanks for your candor JD it’s given me permission to do likewise. Sorry it’s so wordy.

Paul

On 27 November 2002 (07:18 PM),
Tammy said:

JD I too admire your openness in discussing this. I just can’t help but think of Uncle Steve (your Dad) and I know that he would want me to say the things to you that I am saying. JD the reason Christians are so evangelical is because they believe that when one dies they will go to hell to burn forever if they do not except Jesus as Saviour and Lord of their lives. When one believes in a real hell one must be evangelistic . We do not want our loved ones to go there! I am evangelistic. I am NOT evangelistic because I am an arguementative person. I am evangelistic because I love people and cannot bear to know that they will suffer an eternity in hell. Thats the long and the short of it.
And Paul if you’re still reading this I forgot to say earlier that I commend you in your search for God! May you find His peace in your home and in your heart this season! Love to all and especially to my baby cousin JD!

On 06 December 2004 (01:01 PM),
Greg said:

JD, thanks for some honest questions. I wonder if anyone spoke to you of Jesus Christ? He claims to be God, The Word and other things. If true, what He had recorded about himself is, by definition, very important, but then maybe He was just crazy. If you read what He says carefully you will find that He could not be half right, as some are wont to say. As is famously said, He is mad, bad or God – those are the only choices. I can understand anyone who makes one of those three choices, but cannot understand how anyone can choose anything different.
Greg

Exodus

I entered Willamette University in the fall of 1987 intent on becoming a Christian missionary to South America, followed by a career as a pastor in the Mennonite Church. My course selections reflected these goals.

During my first semester, I joined Young Life, a Bible study group on campus, but found the group left me unfulfilled. Its members were petty and reclusive, the group insular. It reminded me more of the Mormon youth group I had fled than of the Mennonite youth group I had embraced. Young Life did nothing to improve my esteem of fellow Christians.

Willamette was a shock to me. Or, more precisely, the myriad opinions on campus were a shock to me. Canby High School provided me a good education, but an education in an environment in which opinion was essentially uniform. Opinion on Willamette’s campus was diverse. My freshman seminar, World Views, included people with decidedly different opinions than my own. In fact, World Views would be the most influential class I took at Willamette.

World Views focused on the literature of Victorian England and the sea change that occurred in that country during the nineteenth century. It featured readings from Bernard Shaw, John Stuart Mill, Harriet Taylor, Charles Darwin, Karl Marx, Mary Shelley, Charles Dickens, and more. These were great minds, pillars of genius. I was staggered by the intellectual heights to which these men and women aspired. I dutifully read the assignments, but rejected most of their ideas; they did not fit with my Christ-centric conception of the universe.

Still, they had a cumulative effect.

By the end of my first semester at Willamette, I was overwhelmed. In only three months I had been exposed to a broad range of ideas (feminist theory, utilitarianism, communism, evolutionary biology, etc.), ideas that had changed the course of Empire. What chance had my mind against such might? My belief system was being shaken at its very foundation.

In the final paper for World Views, I wrote: “What I say is what I feel and not what I know. I know little but I feel much. Perhaps you should not attack me with knowledge but with feelings.”

This statement is telling. It illustrates my state of mind.

For years I had been transported by a euphoric religious fervor. My beliefs made me feel good, but I had never accepted God on an intellectual level. In fact, I had staunchly refused to engage in intellectual debates regarding the existence of, or nature of, God. I kept the conversation on a strictly personal, emotional level. I felt God in my life — or so I believed — buy my mind was not ready to tackle the topic; I had not even made a Kantian “leap of faith” (nor do most Christians). Despite having read a fair number of Christian apologists, I had merely bought into a philosophy and a culture that made me feel good.

(Aside: Now that I am older (and wiser?), I have no qualms with a person who buys into a philosophy and a culture that makes that person feel good so long as this “buying in” does not interfere with my happiness. There are actually times that I wish I could buy into Chrisitanity — the community of spirit has its appeals.)

During the writing of the aforementioned final paper, I first began to doubt the validity of my own beliefs: “I worship. You worship differently. Who is right? Let’s play a game: I’ll flip a god, you call heads or tails.” It seemed to me that my belief in the God of Christianity was perhaps arbitrary, based more on geography, culture, and chance than on the truth of God’s existence.

By the end of the paper, it was clear to me that my faith was on the line: “Next semester I will take Study of Major Religious Texts. Let’s see how well my dwindling faith responds now! Let’s see some proof. I want fire from heaven. Question everything. I’m waiting.”

That’s what my first semester at Willamette taught me to do: question everything. (And this helps and hinders me to this day, fifteen years later.)

I ended the paper by describing my reaction to all that I’d learned during that semester at college: “I fall to my knees and I pray. To a God that I’m thinking of giving my two weeks notice. I don’t know if he hears.”

(Incidentally: this paper to which I keep referring was pivotal in my intellectual development, but it was surely non-standard. It was hand-written in four colors of ink, written as an internal dialogue (not a monologue) that never addressed the essay topic (which was something like: describe the roles that Mill, Marx, Darwin, and Dickens played in shaping nineteenth century intellectual development). I was too self-absorbed at this point, too consumed by my own personal transformation at the hands of these authors to completely tackle the Big Picture. Professor Loftus refused to give me a grade for the assignment.)


I started my first semester at Willamette devoted to God, ready to spend my life in his toil.

I started my second semester at Willamette questioning God, challenging him: “Prove to me that you exist.”

My focal point during that semester was Introduction to Major Religious Texts. The course was less an objective survey of major religions than it was a Christian analysis of them. Still, it was enough to push me into the corner with the agnostics.

We studied the book of Job, a book I found ludicrous. God, as portrayed in Job, is a capricious child, wagering with Satan over the faith of a righteous man. God torments Job sadistically, as if He were a boy with a magnifying class, burning the ants. Is this the God I worshipped?

We studied Gilgamesh as a “primitive” religious text, yet it seemed no more primitive than the Old Testament. We studied the Bhaagavad-Gita, but I wasn’t impressed with Krishna and the demands he placed on his worshippers. They were like the demands that Jehovah (or Yahweh, or Whoever) placed on His followers.

Every religion we studied was, in its own way, a method by which humans could cope with a seemingly meaningless existence on the Earth. (This seems obvious now, but was revelatory at the time.) I moved from the camp of the Christian Existentialists to the camp of the Existentialists.


I was not long for existentialism; the philosophy was too nihilistic for me. I did toil among the ranks of the agnostics for a time, though, and this caused my carefully planned life to crumble. My life goals were no longer valid; there aren’t many agnostic missionaries. I fumbled around for a semester or two before deciding that psychology offered my best choice for a career. (Look where that got me!)

My last three years at Willamette were a gradual progression from agnosticism to atheism. As I read more widely, as I became more frequently exposed to the principles of the scientific method (also here), essentially the more I learned, the weaker my faith became until all that was left was an understanding that not only is there no God, there are no supernatural phenomena at all. No angels, no ghosts, no spirits, no life force, nothing. There is life, and that, itself, is awesome.

Still, I longed for a purpose to this life that only religion had been able to provide me.

[… to be continued …]

Comments

On 26 November 2002 (10:04 PM),
Tammy said:

Now JD did you really expect thatI would let this one go uncommented on? Lol JD you read all those books yet I wonder, Have you ever read the Bible from cover to cover? If not then why make a decision on God and who He is without first reading everything he has to say? My religion class at the college shook the very foundations of what I had learned growing up. I took a different route then you tho. When that happened to me I dug deep into Gods inspired Word to discover who he really was. My faith began to buld itself once more. You know JD God does not have to prove himself to anybody. “He is God and beside Him there is none else~” The Bible speaks of those “those that are ever learning and never coming to a knowledge of the truth”. Jesus also says that unless you become as children you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. All the knowledge in the world will not bring you to Christ. Proverbs says, “The fool has said in his heart there is no God”. JD the only place to find God is on your knees. Forget the books; read the Bible! And unless you have read it from Genesis to Revelation then you have not given it a fair chance. I hope the end of the story will be that you have discovered that God cannot be boxed into our little minds but that by faith we must know that he is God! “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and LEAN NOT UNTO THINE OWN UNDERSTANDING: in all thy ways acknowledge HIM and HE shall diect your path.”

On 27 November 2002 (08:33 AM),
Paul said:

I am very interested in your jouney. I too have made a similar journey but in reverse. I went (am going) from non-belief to some sort of belief I’m not able to discribe as of yet. I look forward to hearing more about yours.

One thing though. You too easily dismiss your earlier “feelings” of God. You don’t give this feeling as much credence as your intellectual
beliefs. Isn’t this the classic mind/body split that has plagued us for so long. This split is the Great Mistake of Western Thought (wow). Weren’t those feelings some sort of Faith? Most people would like to have some sort of feeling, some strive their whole life for it, some never get it. I don’t think people want some doe-eyed, pious, naive feeling but something akin to Knowing (more than just intellectual). [Again, I’ll refer you to Brother Wendell in his “Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community.” His essay about Christianity’s culpability in the spoiling of the environment begins with a examination of the creation story (Genesis again) in that mankind is not made: breath + clay = man (the split) but rather breath + clay = soul. It’s still interesting to note that the etymology (sp?) of Adam and soil are the same (adama) so Adam is made from the soil.]

As long as I’m spouting off: There are forms of Christianity that don’t ascribe to the practice of Sola Scriptura (scripture only) that Tammy espouses…

Paul
Alexandria, VA

On 27 November 2002 (10:44 AM),
Scott said:

Religion as a word points essentially, I think, to that area of human experience where in one way or another man happens upon mystery as a summons to pilgrimage, a come-all-ye; where he is led to suspect the reality of splendors that he cannot name; where he senses meaning no less overwhelming because they can only be hinted at in myths and rituals, in foolish, left-handed games and cloudy novels; where in great laughter perhaps and certain silences he glimpses a destination that he can never know fully until he reaches it. To the many in the world who wistfully or scornfully would deny ever having such experiences, the answer, I suspect, is that we are all of us more mystics than we believe or choose to believe – life is complicated enough as it is, after all, and I don’t know why the trees are angry. We have seen more than we let on, even to ourselves. Through some moment of beauty or pain, some sudden turning of our lives, through some horror of the twelve o’clock news, some dream, some breakfast on the first and last of all our days, we catch glimmers at least of what the saints are blinded of. Only then, unlike the saints, more pigs always than heroes, we tend to go on as though nothing has happened. To go on as though something has happened even though we are not sure what it was or just where we supposed to go with it, is to enter that dimension of life that religion is a word for.

On 27 November 2002 (10:57 AM),
Tammy said:

Hmmmm and what form of Christianity would that be? Do they then call themselves Christian? I too have read other books but I’m just trying to say that salvation and faith are very simple and one needs no other book, or books, other than the Bible to point them to the Truth and the Life. Truly the Bible is enough. Why should one read others interpretation of the Bible rather than the Bible itself. The problem with embracing the Bible as the inspired word of God is that it is just too simple for intellects to grasp. They think that there has to be more. They cannot grasp even the first four words of the Bible, “In the beginning God…” So they turn to evolution and slowly their faith erodes. And slowly they work out their own faith. They move into the “twilight zone”; that time in their lives when the Light meets darkness. From there they move to evening and then finally into the darkness itself. That is a very sad state to be in. One must hang onto faith. Without faith there really is no existence. We all have faith in something than why is it so hard to have faith in God? Curious, Tammy

On 27 November 2002 (11:00 AM),
Tammy said:

Wow Scott I like that!

On 27 November 2002 (04:11 PM),
said:

“Do they call themselves Christians?”

Yes, they call themselves Christians. I’m not dismissing scripture at all but merely suggesting that there is more than the Bible. There is tradition, lives of the Saints, there is Communion (the Eucharist). Some groups see that the Eucharist is central theme or event that their community revolves around.

It takes quite a bit of faith to believe that it is truly the Blood and Body of Christ of which one partakes at Communion (and not Kool-aid and wonder bread).

Golly, the waters getting pretty deep around here…[the “me” of 5 years ago would be rolling on the ground laughing at the “me” of now and what I just wrote.]

Paul

Genesis

When I was young, I bought wholesale into the religion of my parents, as all children do.

A child accepts all that he is taught without question. He is taught to love and obey his parents, and to trust their guidance. If his parents tell him, “It is so,” then it must be so.

Even the most fantastic stories in this way become truth to a young mind.

In my family, the truth was that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and that he had discovered golden plates which revealed another testament of Jesus Christ. The truth was that Nephi and Omni and Moroni and the other prophets of the Book of Mormon were also prophets of God. The truth was that this life was but a temporal manifestation of a grand, extended spiritual existence, an existence that existed prior to physical birth, and an existence that would continue eternally after death.

The truth was also that we could not drink coffee or tea or cola; on Sundays, we did nothing but attend church (as a child, the few times that we ever went to the grocery store on the Sabbath left me feeling dirty, unclean); we had Family Home Evening on Monday nights; we never took the Lord’s Name in vain; we bore our testimonies on Fast Sunday; we attended primary, seminary, priesthood; we called adults Brother Watson and Sister Smith; we lived in an insular world.

The truth is: I was happy as a child in this church.


The truth is: I became an unhappy young adult in this church.

My parents were very open-minded with us children. I do not remember them explicitly encouraging us to read, to explore, to ask questions, but they certainly never discouraged us. My father, himself, asked many questions and was not afraid to challenge the status quo.

As a result, I nurtured a curious mind. I read. I devoured books. I mostly tried to avoid that which might pollute my thinking, but I read everything else that was available.

(I can remember resisting The Great Brain series for years because I knew it made fun of Mormons. I finally succumbed when Tamati (Tom) Hall and his brother, Alan, loaned me the books. They were good Mormons. How could The Great Brain books be bad if recommended by good Mormons?

Skip the next paragraph if you are easily offended.

Curiously, Tom and Alan were also responsible for introducing me to another very non-Mormon book: Mortal Gods. Leaving aside the title (very ironic in this case), this slim science fiction novel was corruptive because it was the first book I’d ever read that contained sexual content. The book, totally unremarkable in every other respect, was responsible for my first masturbatory experience at the age of nine or ten. This was a Big Deal. Even more so than other religions, Mormons frown upon masturbation, and go to great lengths to discourage it.

A Science Fiction Book club mailer was bound inside Mortal Gods. The books I received from joining the club inspired me to start writing my own science-fiction and fantasy stories. Fast forward twenty years to this weblog.

Finally, the Great Brain’s younger brother is called J.D. This is a large portion of the etymology of my name; The Great Brain books were popular in Canby when I was in fourth and fifth grades.

Looking back, that evening when Tom and Alan, in all ignorance, loaned me The Great Brain and Mortal Gods had a tremendous impact on my life. Who would have guessed?

(On a purely geeky note — the date this event occurred could probably be determined because I remember that a version of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine was being shown on television. Let’s check the Internet Movie Database. Aha! 05 November 1978 — a Sunday evening, as I suspected. Why can I remember this but not remember to pick up milk on the way home from work?) )

I’ve never really known why my parents chose to leave the Mormon church. For myself, I may have stopped going if they had not. During junior high and my freshman year in high school, I began to have serious doubts about the church, not because of its theology so much as its all-too-human flaws. People were petty. They gossiped. They stole. They lied. I told myself that no church founded on God would have members that behaved this way.

(To be fair, this behavior can be found in congregations of any religion. At the time, though, it seemed, to me, to be localized to the ward of the church to which I belonged. I took it as a sign of corruption. My adolescent mind longed for purpose, for a righteous God, but could not find it in that spiritual environment.)

We left the Mormon church and turned to Zion Mennonite, the congregation in which my father was raised.

I was fortunate that my peers at Zion were friendly; they went out of their way to include me in their activities. This, in and of itself, seemed to me a radical change from the cliquish nature of the Mormon youth. I felt wanted. I belonged.

The brand of Christianity to which Zion Mennonite adhered in the mid-80s was a marvelous blend of strict Biblical theology and modern liberalism. To be sure, the Zion philosophy would have looked positively conservative to most liberals, but the members seemed generally open to new ideas, were willing to discuss possibilities so long as they were rooted in the teachings of Christ.

Mormonism had been inculcated upon me as a child, but I bought into the Anabaptist philosophy on my own, and with my entire being. These Mennonites were pacifists; they were not evangelical; they were thoughtful and caring; they stressed love: agape and philia; some members even asked questions and discussed religion on an intellectual level. Most of all, Zion felt like home in a way that the Mormon church never did. (In truth, it still feels like home.)

For three years I devoted myself to this brand of Christianity. It was liberating.

I was active in the congregation’s Mennonite Youth Fellowship (or MYF). (Today many of my closest companions are from that MYF circle of friends.) I read Dostoevsky and Kierkegaard and other Christian existentialists. I volunteered to lead Bible studies. (My favorite was a friendship-themed Bible study that featured The Velveteen Rabbit as a supplementary text.)


At this time, three disparate aspects of my life converged: my devotion to God, the Mormon emphasis on missionary work that I learned as a child, and the 1986 film The Mission, in which a Jesuit priest attempts to convert South American natives. At the end of high school, I decided that what I wanted most, what God had called me to do, was to become a missionary to those less fortunate than myself.

When I left for college, my intention was to train to become a missionary to South America.

But something happened on the way to that place.

[… to be continued …]

Comments

On 25 November 2002 (02:43 PM),
J.D. said:

I should point out two things:

1. I harbor no ill will toward Mormons or toward Mormonism. I recognize now that the problems I had with the congregation of which I was a member might have been present in any congregation of any denomination. There are good Mormon folk and there are bad Mormon folk. And Mormonism itself is, to me, just another religion.

2. One early source of doubt stemmed from the Mormon habit of stating “I know this Church is true” while giving a testimony before the church. Testimonies themselves seem to be unique to the Mormon church. (Essentially, one bears his testimony by standing in the midst of the congregation and professing his belief in the Mormon church and doctrines.) Even as a child I wondered how I could know the church was true. What did that mean? I had received no divine revalation. I had no other churches with which to compare it. How could I know the church was true?

Amen.

Stupid is as Stupid Does

By Saturday afternoon it had become clear that my knee wasn’t going to be sufficiently recovered to allow me to play in today’s soccer game. I wasn’t about to let my body to give me no for an answer; I’d been looking forward to this game for seven weeks, had spent too much of the season injured.

I pulled a Brett Favre.

In the twelve hours before the game, I took ibuprofen and hydrocodone in an effort to alleviate the pain. It worked. To combat the drowsiness these two drugs produced, I consumed a large quantity of caffeine. It worked.

Before the game I warmed up tentatively. Though jumping was painful, I felt I could play the game and help the team. And I did. For fifteen minutes. Then my knee gave out and, through the barrier of drugs I had erected, came a stabbing pain.

My actions leading up this point were foolish, but to my credit I did the right thing and yielded to my body. Cheikh finished the game in the net and did a fine job. I limped around the sideline and cheered the team.

I find that I like goalkeeping now that I’ve had a taste of it. I’d like to play keeper for the FC Saints in the spring, if possible, but I cannot help the team if my body is not strong enough to resist injury. My goal this winter is to become more physically fit, not only continuing my weight loss, but also building strength in my legs.

Meanwhile, I’ve got to do something about this knee. The hydrocodone and ibuprofen have worn off and the knee is causing me a lot of pain.

I’m so stupid sometimes: I thought I was being clever by deceiving my body so that I could play, but I was only being an idiot.


I’m going to miss soccer. I’m also going to miss the post-game bridge games that Mac, Pam, Joel, and I have had the last several weeks.

Still, I’ll have more free time now.

Comments

On 12 November 2002 (07:11 PM),
Pam said:

what do you mean, miss sunday bridge games? now we have ALL day to play!

adhesive capsulitis

i went to the doctor today to see about my sore shoulder.

after taking down a little history of the problem, he poked and prodded my shoulder, lifted and lowered my arm, and had me perform a variety of twists and turns to test my range of motion.

in the end, he decided that i was suffering from adhesive capsulitis, or “frozen shoulder”. he noted that this condition was generally found in sedentary smokers. (while i may be somewhat sedentary (alright — maybe a lot sedentary), i’m not a smoker.) it can be found in anyone, though, and nobody really knows what causes it. (more articles on it can be found here, here, here, here, here and here.)

the most troubling fact to emerge from the research i’ve done is that the condition generally lasts a year or more (average recovery time is eighteen months). this is alarming.

let me be blunt: i am in a hell of a lot of pain. i can’t imagine being in this much pain for a year.

what can be done?

to start with, the doctor gave me a cortisone injection. in theory, this should relieve the inflammation in the shoulder. (in actuality, it’s just made the shoulder sorer, at least during these first few hours after the injection.)

he also upped my hydrocodone dosage from “one or two before bed” to “once every four hours”. and he gave me a stronger anti-inflammatory.

in the long-term, once the pain has been arrested, i’m too start a course of physical therapy. (actually, the doctor seemed a tad miffed that i was unable to lift my arm twenty minutes after he gave me the cortisone injection. sorry, doc. i gave it my best.)

i know all this talk about my ailment is wearisome. believe me: it’s even more wearisome to me. i get to look forward to another night of sleeping on the recliner in front of the tv, tossing and turning, waking every hour or two because of the pain, surfing through the endless sea of informercials and three’s company reruns.

Comments

On 14 October 2002 (05:18 AM),
maureen c said:

I had Adhesive Capsulitis 12 years ago in my left shoulder. Now I have it again in my right. I’m hoping to find a group of people who might want to start a chat room or bulletin board… gotta do something besides watching those reruns…

Let me know…

On 15 March 2003 (06:50 PM),
Carol E. said:

I was recently told by my doctor that I have adhesive capsulitis. My doctor didn’t explain much about it to me so I did some research of my own and what I found was not encouraging. I cannot imagine living with this much pain for a year or longer. I have been taking the anti-inflammatory medications for weeks and have had to stop due to stomach problems. I had an MRI a couple of days ago, don’t have results yet. The worst part is not being able to sleep at night! I’m worn out already and it’s only been 7 weeks.
I don’t know anyone personally who has had this. It’s nice to know someone else out there knows what I’m going through.

On 16 March 2003 (12:37 PM),
J.D. said:

Originally I thought I had a pinched nerve from playing soccer, but my doctor diagnosed it as adhesive capsulitis. Like you, I did research, and I was *not* encouraged but what I found: people with this condition seem to suffer for months, if not years. Fortunately, the condition lasted less than a month for me. Others, such as yourself, are not so lucky.

I’m not sure what you can do if anti-inflammatories aren’t working for you. I took Alleve and/or ibuprofen, depending on the day. My doctor also gave me a prescription for hydrocodone, which is like vicodin, which is derived, distantly, from opium. This didn’t alleviate the pain — I always felt it — but it did make it less significant. By this I mean that I could tell that the shoulder still hurt, and I didn’t regain *any* range of motion with it, but my brain didn’t focus on the pain. Unfortunately, taking a hydrocodone pill every three or four hours rendered me a zombie.

I wish I could give you more encouragement. The best I can offer is: hang in there. You might get lucky like I did and have the pain just go away!

On 25 March 2003 (12:03 PM),
suzanne said:

I was just diagnosed today with adhesive capsulitis. My shoulder has been hurting for about 6 months and I am getting very depressed. UGH! The doctor prescribed ultracet for pain, something to help me sleep, and physical therapy.
I started looking on the internet for information and came across this. Are you feeling better and what has helped?

Best wishes,

suzanne

On 26 March 2003 (11:55 AM),
Linda said:

Hi Everyone…….Don’t understand this chat group….with NO e-mail to write back to each other to help one another. I too need to talk to someone that is going through this horrible pain. Please e-mail me at BeautyandtheBeast@centurytel.net Linda

On 01 April 2003 (01:07 PM),
Sharron said:

My arm and shoulder had been hurting for the past few weeks and the pain would be so bad that I would have to just grasp my arm and hold my breath!!! Went to two bone crackers with no luck. Got on the web and looked up arm pain and got to www.frozenshoulder.com and was like WOW they are talking about me. I am also distressed about the length of time this is going to last…and sleeping is getting harder all the time as I love to sleep with my right arm (bad one) under my pillow…goodbye for that.
Well,my oldest daughter is a Doctor..and she said that is sure what I do have….I have no medical insurance and from reading all I have about this it would seem to me that getting a bunch of tests is a waste of money and the injections can even make it worse. I would love to hear from anyone else that has been though this, tell me how long you have had it and how bad did it get? I can still use the computer…
just the range of motion is what is bad now.
Look foward to hearing from any of you.
I am 55 female.

On 17 October 2003 (08:31 PM),
susan said:

I had surgery for this 2 months ago and I still cannot put my arm behind my back or on my hip..physical therapy is painful and I ahve been going 3 times a week. My arm is better than it was before surgery ,as it was frozen in front and I could not lift it and the pain was enough to make me fall to my knees…sleep was illusive..so the surgery was helpful as I do not have pain all day, just when I try to move it where it doesn’t want to go, but the pain is tolerable. I take one half lorcet before therapy.
The surgery shaved off a bone spur, fixed a rent in my shoulder cuff and fixed an impingement, there was also a manipulation of the shoulder to break up the adhesions. The recovery from surgery was the most pain I have ever felt, I cried for several days and the pain pills didn’t seem to help…if you have surgery take your pain pills before the nerve block wears off! The pain backs off after a few days and becomes manageable but takes a good month to lighten up.
I still wake up at night but it is getting better! I look forward to the day when I ahve my arm back to normal ,or close to normal range, and hopefully no pain! hang in there !!

On 13 November 2003 (04:19 PM),
olga said:

Just had an arthroscopy done on my frozen shoulder
the doc broke up the scar tissue, PT is a killer
my frozen shoulder was so bad that I could not use
my arm.It still hurts terribly, really no better
after surgery except some increased movement. Pain
pills are a joke even Vicodin. I have had this for
over a year. Still can’t sleep at night toss and
turn every 2-3 hours. anyone out there has any
new thoughts on the matter. I am also using
the Topical Verapamile, just started, I need to
use it 60 days x 2. By the way I am a nurse,
believe me I have thought of everything. I have
heard there is some experimental trials in NY>
will research info.

On 10 January 2004 (07:31 PM),
Mary said:

I too have had surgery for adhesive capsulitis and a manipulation as well! Very painful! I had surgery back in March of 03 and March of ’04 is coming up! Iam still in P.T. once a week, but I still have pain-bearable mor or less, but I don’t think it will ever be the same again! Iam starting to wonder if it just me, or what! I still can’t sleep on it and night is the worst time! Anyone have any suggestions?? E-mail me directly if you wish! Thanks, Mary

On 12 January 2004 (06:48 PM),
Charlotte said:

Hi,
Have developed “frozen shoulder” on my right side – had it about 6 years ago on left.
I have a specific question re the 3phases..freezing, frozen and thawed. Apparently, the early, ‘freezing’ stage is most acute and I understand that practically none of the therapies: physical, drug, surgical are effective during this phase.
WEll, that is where I am and about to invest 600-700 dollars in deep tissue massage. It brought the other shoulder back years ago, but I believe I was at a different phase.

Does anyone have a good understanding of what’s possible in the various phases?

Thanks, Charlotte

On 12 January 2004 (06:48 PM),
Charlotte said:

Hi,
Have developed “frozen shoulder” on my right side – had it about 6 years ago on left.
I have a specific question re the 3phases..freezing, frozen and thawed. Apparently, the early, ‘freezing’ stage is most acute and I understand that practically none of the therapies: physical, drug, surgical are effective during this phase.
WEll, that is where I am and about to invest 600-700 dollars in deep tissue massage. It brought the other shoulder back years ago, but I believe I was at a different phase.

Does anyone have a good understanding of what’s possible in the various phases?

Thanks, Charlotte

On 18 January 2004 (09:51 PM),
christie reid said:

Reading the posts don’t give much comfort. Any advise before its too late for me!!!
My dr. wants to schedule manipulation under anthesia next week for frozen shoulder. Somehow Im wondering if I really want this done. Could I possibly get thru this without the surgery. Im a sucker when it comes to pain.

On 22 January 2004 (09:05 AM),
Peeps said:

Hi,

It has been really interesting to read the comments here from fellow frozen shoulder sufferers. For myself, the fact that nothing much seems to work and that it lasts for at least a year (!) has been some comfort. I began to feel I was just useless. I was sent to a chiropractor by my Personal Trainer and the arm got steadily worse!

My shoulder began to freeze in July last year and now has very little range of movement. The question I would like answered is “If you do nothing at all and wait for it to unfreeze, can you start physiotherapy at that stage?” I find exercises quite painful and really annoying! Lack of sleep is a problem too.

The worst bit for me has been a few occasions when I have put my hand out to stop from tripping over, or got an electric shock off the car and grabbed the arm back quickly. The pain was so intense I just had to squat down, hold my arm and swear (A LOT!!).

I am still looking for answers but mainly waiting to unfreeze and then I might think about exercises. I swim, if you can call it that, in a very leisurely fashion. It’s nice to have the arm float free in the water.

Good luck everyone.

Will report back if a miracle happens!

On 03 February 2004 (05:19 PM),
maureen said:

I found a GREAT forum for frozen shoulder. I’ve been a contributor for more than a year, and there are lots of people on it, with lots of great stories, support and information. Here is the site:

http://www.shoulder1.com/community/forums20.cfm/126

You have to register to contribute, but it’s fast and easy and I never get any spam from them.

See you there!

— Maureen

On 11 February 2004 (05:32 PM),
Joanne said:

Hi, I was wondering if anyone knows the difference between FS occuring after rotator cuff repair as compared to spontaneously ???? I have it after a rotator cuff repair, and I wish I never did it!!! I am going to fairly aggresive PT and have already done the manipulation +cortisone . Rotator cuff surgery was in November and manipulation was 2 weeks ago. The problem I am having is that my Dr. acts so surprised by my pain! He continuously wants me to go off or decrease my pain pills (tylenol with codeine at present) I don’t sleep well. The only thing that helps at night is ice. I leave it on until it’s warm………….. My Dr. wants to do another MRi (one after surgery showed Maybe a new tear in the cuff) I am going to get another opinion but any comments????? This guy is supposed to be the best and people think I’m crazy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ParkerPlace7@aol.com

On 26 February 2004 (08:16 AM),
pippa said:

Ohmigosh! It sounds very similar to what I am going through. I had bone spur/rotator cuff surgery 10 weeks ago, and have completely hit a wall. I can passively lift my arm straight up, but can only raise it by itself about 100 degrees. I can see in the mirror that there is no rotation in the joint at all – it looks like a baseball on top raising. My doctor just says, “That’s all you can do? Keep working,” but there has been little to no change for weeks. I keep beating myself up because I’m not progressing, but then started looking at what was going on. No meds have been prescribed, so I’ve started treating myself: aspirin for inflamation, heating pads and BenGay-type rubs for circulation, have started taking glucosamine and MSM – and now my insurance plan’s PT coverage is running out (20 visits per calendar year). If this is frozen shoulder and time is necessary to heal, I wonder if I should continue at $100/visit, when these treatments are not helping (doing my exercises at home, of course)? And has anyone tried the Neil-Asher treatments (frozenshoulder.com)? I am so ready to be normal again! and so frustrated!!

On 15 March 2004 (07:18 PM),
Cyndy said:

I share everyone’s frustrations. My doc also wants to get aggressive. I’m only 5 months into this and am wondering if I should go ahead. It sounds tempting to get some pain relief, but there’s always the chance that it will be worse afterwards. One thing I’ve tried that helps some is a salve called Unkers. Some oldtimers at my church swear by it. When you use it and then apply a heating pad, it sort of intensifies the heat and eases the muscle pain some. You can order it on the net. I hope everyone has a TENS unit. You can’t use it 24/7, but when it’s really bad or you have to be sitting in a meeting, it really helps. Also found some research that says psychological stress and the weather make the pain worse. (As if being in constant pain isn’t stressful!) All the best to fellow sufferers.
Cyndy

On 16 March 2004 (07:36 AM),
janet said:

8 yrs ago, i had frozen shoulder, by the time i went to doc, so much muscle had wasted. Went to pt 3x weekly for 6 wks, stopped going and did exercises at home…..cured…now, i have a problem in other shoulder….did not feel quite the same , but told it is frozen shoulder,rotator cuff tear. Going for MRI today—doc also want to manipulate possibly depending on MRi—very limited motion up, back—-hurts to lift patients on my job=

On 16 April 2004 (10:12 PM),
Juli said:

I too,have adhesive capsulitis in my left shoulder. This was quite a surprise to me as I have always been physically active and my chosen profession is massage therapy. I have been a massage therapist for 17 years and have addressed FS on many occaisions. Two years ago I began teaching massage therapy and became somewhat inactive as a practitioner. Inactivity, I have since found, is one of the major contributors to FS. One of the most important discoveries I have made is that it really helps to drink water on a regular basis. We are all human and it is easy to overlook drinking water for other more satisfying beverages. Most times, FS is medically addressed with Occupational Therapy (OT), Physical Therapy (PT), Cortisone injections, or various approaches with surgery. Sometimes this works. However, alternative methods with specific massage applications can bring relief, allow for sleep, increase range of motion (ROM) and relieve FS altogether. I too, (even though an MT) have tried going to chiropractors, doctors, PT’s and OT’s for a diagnosis and relief with little or no success, til I met an OT at the VA hospital with years of success working with FS sufferers. She was the first to suspect I might have frozen shoulder. I took it for granted that I just “overused” my shoulder with years of performing massage, but this did not make sense to me, because I did not have it on the right shoulder. After my referred visit to Osteo at the VA, the diagnosis was confirmed. The doctor laid out all my options, but did not have any inkling if or how massage would or could address my pain and lack of movement. Personally, I knew better and decided right then to include massage into my rehab plan. I opted for the protocol that my past clients have utilized and that is consistant water intake, little or no caffiene (affects nerve activity within muscles and tendons), nothing that would dehydrate my tissues (diuretics, water pills, or alcoholic drinks), OT and massage therapy. I am in my second week of this routine and already I am enjoying more movement with less pain. (I can even put my arm behind my back to zip up a skirt-something I have not been able to do for 18 months!) My OT has me doing several exercises, but not to the point of pain. Four of the most beneficial exercises for me use a pully and hanging weights. The pully exercises use a portable pully that fits over any door and once the door is closed you place a chair about 1-2 feet facing away from the door. Sitting in the chair, you would grasp the handles with thumbs posistioned in the “up” position and pulling on the handles, raise the unaffected arm first and then the affected side. Once the affected side is stretched to capacity, hold it there for 5-10 seconds to maximize the stretch. Do not pull so hard that there is excruciating pain. This only aggravates the stretch response (built into muscles for protection against tears in the tissue) Eventually your time for holding the stretch will increase and your movement will improve. Another exercise with the pully is to stretch from a “side-sitting” position with the affected side closest to the door, but place the chair so that the shoulder is in line with the pully. Sitting too far back or too far forward will make the exercises ineffective. Again, have the chair sitting out from the door 1-2 feet. As you gain more movement, the chair can be moved further out from the door. Same with the previous exercise. The “hanging weight” exercises consist of a two pound wrist weight wrapped around the wrist and performing small (really small at first) circles while bending at the waist and supporting your weight on a kitchen table or countertop. Ten (10) clockwise and ten (10) counter-clockwise, three times a day. As this gets easier, you may increase number of circles and make the “circular path” wider. At this time I have increased my hanging weight to 5 pounds. This exercise has a “traction” effect on the glenohumeral joint, pulling the humerous gently and restoring neurological muscle memory to nerve proprioceptors found in tendons and muscles. (Re-educates tissues what it is like to move again). As far as my experience with getting massage, it is important to find a therapist that is educated in the area of neuromuscular therapy/re-education. Active resisted movement, trigger point therapy, post-isometric relaxation, myofascial release, along with cross-fiber friction should be used to address the rotator cuff muscles (Supraspinatus, Infraspinatus, Teres Minor and Subscapularis). Also, it is highly beneficial to have the massage therapist concentrate where the Subscapularis and Serratus Posterior Superior meet and glide (move) across each other. In most instances the Latissimus Dorsi and Serratus Anterior areas will need to be addressed as well. Of course, during all this pain the client has endured, his or her breathing will tend to be shallow and this severly affects the Scalenes and Sternocleidomastoids (neck muscles) which are attached to the 1st and 2nd ribs. The massage therapist will have to address any tightness existing there and help restore diaphragmatic breathing- also known as “stomach breathing”, filling the lungs with air using the diaphram first- this gives those neck muscles a vacation!! I must disclose that this may not be the routine for you and I have no scientific data to support my claims. I am basing this on my years of experience (17) as a massage therapist addressing FS and what my clients have told me helps them and on what has personally helped me. I highly recommend that you find an Occupational Therapist to help you with your rehabilitation exercise plan as they are not as aggressive as Physical Therapists and I find that the intricate movements my OT has given me have helped a great deal. If you have additional questions or concerns, please feel free to email me using frozen shoulder or adhesive capsulitis in the subject matter line at la_julikay@yahoo.com-Yours in light and health, JULI

On 03 March 2005 (10:01 AM),
Von said:

I am also part of this club. Began having pain about one year ago, but truly froze in the past few months. Have gone through Arthrogram, MRI, seven weeks of physical therapy, and acupuncture. ACUPUNCTURE is the only thing that has helped the pain. I have had five treatments of acupuncture. She thought she could cure me in ten. I may have too severe a case to actually cure in ten treatments, but I cannot believe the aid I received in the pain level. I have never taken any prescription drugs for pain, so I was 24/7 in pain. She recommended White Willow Bark as a natural form of aspirin. It helps greatly without the risk of stomach or liver damage.
My doctor still feels I have not gained motion like he had hoped. He wants to do the scope and manipulation. I am hesitant about this. I need advice from those that have had it. Did you gain enough motion to warrant it?
Thanks!

On 16 March 2005 (12:22 PM),
Debby said:

I feel everyone’s pain. I too have a FS. I went through several months of pain before seeing an Ortho surgeon. I’ve been in therapy for 3 months. In my opinion I have seen a 70% improvement. I think alot of that has to do with keeping up with the exercises at home. I went back to the Ortho for a follow up to see how I was doing.He said I could either live with the pain or do surgery. I requested more PT. The therapist is trying to talk me into surgery. After all the research I have done I don’t want to. I’m going to wait about a year or so and see if it gets even better. In the meantime it’s very important to keep up the exercises. Heat and Ice seems to help also.
One thing does puzzle me, with all the technoligy why can’t they cure us?

On 08 April 2005 (03:45 PM),
Estalyn said:

Hello – I also was diagnosed with FS after having rotator cuff repair in December 2004. Last week my doctor did a manipulation under anesthesia and what he called arthroscopic lysis of adhesions. He implanted a pain pump for a few days which helped the P.T. maneuver my arm in all sorts of directions. Have to say that my ROM is so much better one week post-op. Hope everyone is feeling better soon.

On 13 May 2005 (06:08 PM),
Natalie said:

Hi, everyone. I have had frozen shoulder for about 9 or 10 months, though it didn’t get extremely bad until last October when I had a benign cyst removed from the shoulder. (I had been thinking my worsening shoulder pain was from the cyst – – silly me.)
ONE THING THAT HELPED A LOT with the night pain… my physical therapist told me to sleep sitting up – – like in a recliner or propped with pillows. It really did help a lot with that horrible, horrible pain at night. I still would wake up around 3:30 or 4:00 am and sleep fitfully until time to get up, but that was MUCH better than how it had been. Apparently the pull of gravity keeping the joint slightly open keeps the nerves from being so irritated. Nights are the worst.
I had the manipulation done in March and it did help. I had a great deal of improvement in motion, pain and that horrible constant feeling you have like something is grabbing your shoulder blade and pulling it. But, though things are better, I’m far from cured. Today a nurse went to take my blood pressure and put the cuff on the upper arm and pressurized it – – I nearly jumped out of my skin, the pain was so intense. So much for my nice normally low b.p. readings.
I just can’t wait until this is over. Just to have two normal shoulders again seems like such a gift. In the meantime, I grit my teeth and keep doing my exercises.

On 28 May 2005 (08:25 AM),
Carol said:

I developed frozen shoulder out of the blue in Oct. 04 at the age of 42. In Feb. 05 I was diagnosed and started p.t. twice a week. After 2 months, I had not improved at all, and my doctor insisted that I needed a manipulation. She sent me to an orthopedist. I did not want surgery, however, so the orthopedist agreed to prescribe more p.t. After 2 more months of p.t. plus 5 sessions of osteopathic manipulation, my range of motion has improved somewhat, and the pain has diminished. I saw the orthopedist again last week, and he thinks if I continue improving as I have, in another 3 months, this won’t even be an issue for me anymore. So, this summer I’ll be having more p.t. and osteopathy. By the way, I highly recommend osteopathic manipulation! It helped me a lot.

On 06 June 2005 (10:38 PM),
Amanda said:

I’m a 33 year old female and i have adhesive capsulitis on my right shoulder. The pain is unbearable! especially at night. I decided to drink more water, lots of water! and cut down on the caffiene, and stretch every hour very slowly with pain killers (2 advils 2 extra strength tylenol)It does get frustrating but you really have to discipline yourself. Within 3 days MAJOR difference.
Pain is alot more milder. Hydrating your body and and keeping your shoulder moving really helps. i can finally get some sleep.

On 25 June 2005 (09:33 AM),
Lizzi said:

Gosh, it’s good to see I’m not the only person suffering from this and there are some people out there that can understand. I have capsulitis in the left shoulder and though I am going through physio, I don’t see much improvement yet. Nights are the worse and it really affect your daily activities and life. One of the worst things also is lack of understanding from some people who just can’t understand what the big deal is. So, it’s nice to see I’m not alone. Good luck to all and if anyone knows of a miracle, please let me know :)

On 06 July 2005 (11:27 AM),
Sham said:

hi, i’m in my final year studying osteopathic medicine. in my clinic so far, i have only seen this condition once and the best exercise tip is to stand in front of a wall facing it or facing parallel to it, put your hand out as much as you can so you touch the wall with your index and middle fingers. Now perform a walking action up the wall (until you feel pain). Now mark your limit on the wall and do this everyday 20 times, you should see the marking on the wall go higher and higher. See results in one month but remember, it will hurt, you’ve got to push yourself to the limit. Good luck!

On 06 July 2005 (11:31 AM),
Sham said:

hi, i’m in my final year studying osteopathic medicine. in my clinic so far, i have only seen this condition once and the best exercise tip is to stand in front of a wall facing it or facing parallel to it, put your hand out as much as you can so you touch the wall with your index and middle fingers. Now perform a walking action up the wall (until you feel pain). Now mark your limit on the wall and do this everyday 20 times. The other exercise is to lean forward and let your arm hang beside you and perform a pendulum motion as much as you can everyday ( helps the blood supply to the muscles so they are not wasted. You should see the marking on the wall go higher and higher. See results in one month but remember, it will hurt, you’ve got to push yourself to the limit. Good luck!

On 14 July 2005 (01:56 PM),
Bonnie said:

I’m not sure there is a miracle but I am slowly recovering from a FS without a manipulation. Mine started in January worsened for a few months but now is getting better since the cortisone shot 6 weeks ago. The physical therapy/exercise in the beginning only aggravated the pain and made it worse. The improvement began when I quit PT! Besides the Cortisone shot, drinking lots of water, and keeping my shoulders warm especially at night has helped. Beware of cold air conditioning! Now that most of the pain has subsided, I am doing the usual shoulder stretching exercises. In another six weeks, if my shoulder is not completely better, my doctor suggested an additional cortisone shot. I understand the sleepless nights, I understand trying to live in constant pain with a grimace on my face. My FS is slowly getting better and it feels good to smile.

On 20 July 2005 (11:27 AM),
Linda said:

After reading Natalie’s comment on Adhesive Capsulitis in May of 2005, I am now curious as to whether my condition is also the result of having had a cyst removed from my shoulder. The surgery was done over two years ago but the scar lies directly over where my pain is. I’ve been through PT, home stretching and it is still bothering me. My range of motion is better but the pain is not gone. It’s been almost ten months since my initial injury. ( I thought I had injured it by reaching into the backseat of my car from the front.) I’ve been to two doctor’s now and both believe my cyst removal is just a coincidence, I’m doubtful though. I’m now to go through another course of PT for 6 to 8 weeks and if my pain is not gone the Ortho Doc wants to operate. I have lot’s of funky sounds going on when I rotate my shoulder, crepetis I’m told. I’m not sure if the spelling is correct for that term. Anyhow, I’m sorry for everyone suffering with this, it bites! I can’t sleep unless I take something to help relax me. I miss putting my arm under my pillow at night and resting on my left side. My sympathies to all of you Adhesive Capsulitis sufferers. I’ve at least been validated by the comments, I agree, it hurts like crazy.
EMail me if you wish, Mammie1024@adelphia.net

On 24 July 2005 (02:49 PM),
Mary said:

I too have had and am dealing with Adhesive capsulitis! I’ve had two manipulations on right side! I’ve had a total of 5 surgeries on right shoulder! A year ago i came down with it on my left side!I’ve only had one surgery on left side to date! So, essentially I’ve been dealing with this condition for a couple years! The good news is, the last manipulation finally did it! I can reach to 163.! Iam happy with that! That’s reaching straight out and up! Once I get the right one squared away, we get to work on the left one! Seems like it’s never ending! As for myself,I have tried to keep some sence of humor! It’s tough though! It’s true that people who haven’t had it, have absolutely no clue! Good luck to everyone else! Just be patient! Iam trying, as i still have some pain Iam dealing with on a daily and nightly bases!

On 20 August 2005 (07:42 AM),
trevor said:

A UK Osteopath in London (Dr Simeone Niel-Asher) claims to have meade alot of progress in the treatment of Frozen Shoulder
He claims to be able to ‘cure’ it in several one hour sessions and he has trained a few USA practitioners
See www.frozenshoulder.com
I am moving to London soon and I hope to see this guy personally but he also has self help CDs and books on his website
Trevor

On 22 August 2005 (12:22 PM),
Janice said:

I have had frozen shoulder for about 18 months total. Went through 3 1/2 months of physical therapy and 2 cortisone injection and was better for several months but the pain has steadily gotten worse and so has the stiffening over the summer. I am to have a manipulation under anesthesia in 2 weeks with physical therapy daily for 3 weeks after this. I think he is doing a nerve block at the same time. I was hoping to take only about 3 days off of work and then go back to work, working around by physical therapy. Is this realstic? I would think the pain would be better.

On 30 August 2005 (02:12 AM),
Gail (Australia) said:

You guys are really not cheering me up at all !!
I had a yachting accident 10 weeks ago and was diagnosed with a full thickness rotator cuff tear. I had surgery six weeks ago (unbelievably painful !!) and was told the day after surgery that I didn’t have a R/C tear at all and that they actually found a fracture.
Lucky me – both my x-ray and ultra sound scan were wrong !!
To top it all off – I went back for my final post-op checkup today to be told that I have a frozen shoulder.
I have had Physio Therapy the whole time since my injury but obviously it did nothing to prevent me developing this problem.
As with all of you – the pain in unbelievable (and unrelenting) and sleep is a thing of the past.
I wish you all (and me) a speedy recovery :-)

On 10 September 2005 (07:55 AM),
cj said:

I have an appt. with ortho next week. Was told by another doc that I have FS. Initially, pain was mostly shoulder/neck but now right arm is severely affected and last few days, there is numbing involved. MY QUESTION: I have lyme disese and really want to avoid the cortisone type treatment as I’ve been advised that this is very counter-productive for those with lyme.. terrible for immune system. What is the chance of me getting good treatment without it involving some type of cortisones??
Thanks, cj

On 13 September 2005 (07:59 AM),
suzanReither said:

I don’t know whether physical therapy is good or not. Could someone advise me before I start. I am in excruciating pain at night and have been for over 3 months.
Thank you.

On 26 September 2005 (11:49 PM),
mike said:

Hi,

My frozen shoulder diagnosis came three weeks ago. I am a fiddler, and it is my right shoulder. I play fiddle right-handed, though fortunately I am a lefty at everything else.

I have to say that I’ve suffered a number of injuries along life’s road, including a compound fracture of a leg (broken in three places, ankle broken too..sky diving accident) and have never had anything nearly this painful.

I’m unable to play fiddle, of course. Physical therapy doesn’t seem to be helping yet. Have only had a couple weeks of it. It hurts virtually all the time, and the only way I can sleep is to take three or four Lortab 10/500s.

Please tell me this will get better. This condition is redefining my concept of agony. I know it will, but I need to hear from someone who’s actually been through it.

On 09 October 2005 (02:13 PM),
debbie said:

I’ve been researching FS ever since my right shoulder froze suddenly in July. The most frustrating thing is not knowing what treatment is best. I’ve had 20 physical therapy treatments with very little improvement in ROM; however, the pain is considerably better. No way to know if that is due to PT or whether it would be getting better anyway on its own. My PT is VERY aggressive – lots of pain, which my ortho told me to expect. Despite the PT, my doctor wants to do a closed manipulation b/c of so little improvement in ROM. I am 52 and ordinarily VERY physically active, so those who attributed this condition to sedentary lifestyle, I don’t think so. I was doing over an hour of aerobic exercise, usually running or biking, six days a week when this occured. Anyway, what concerns me is that the therapy causes lots of pain and not in the shoulder. It’s usually in my arm, my bicep muscle (even get bruises on arm after therapy) or back. The therapy, by its very nature, puts stress on all of the ligaments, tendons, and muscles as the PT tries to increase ROM. Also, I have had so much stiffness in my neck. I can’t even hold a book and read or sit in one position for more than a few minutes without stiffness in my neck. Does everyone have this problem? It’s much better than intense pain, but makes if virtually impossible to return to work. Has anyone had any negative effects after manipulation? Should I stick with the PT longer?

Star Wars Generation

Lest my review of Attack of the Clones lead anyone to believe that I am anti-Star Wars, let me assure you that I am most certainly a member of the Star Wars Generation. My personal history is deeply intertwined with the Star Wars mythos. In the tradition of Wil Wheaton‘s “The Trade” and fray.com‘s “Star Wars Memories“, here are my recollections of being a part of the Star Wars Generation.


I was born on 25 March 1969. Star Wars was released on 25 May 1977. I was eight years, two months old.

My father took us to see Star Wars a few of weeks after it was released. The Sunday Oregonian had been running an ad for the film and the ad’s artwork was mesmerizing: a young man in a robe holding a torch over his head, a young woman wrapped around his waist, sleek airplanes flying through space, robots on a mountain, and behind it all some mysterious helmeted figure.

According to my brother Jeff, we were at my grandparents’ house when Mom and Dad came and told us that we were going to see Star Wars. Jeff remembers not being aware of Star Wars until�

We entered the theater late, after the opening fanfare, after the title scroll, after the opening battle sequence. When we sat down, a shiny gold robot was walking across the desert and a little round blue robot was being zapped by strange midget aliens in capes. I loved this movie from the start. It was like my favorite TV show, Star Trek (shown every Sunday at 4 p.m. in reruns on KPTV channel 12 the entire time I was growing up), only better, faster paced, with laser swords and creepy aliens.

As the summer of 1977 progressed we were able to see the movie several more times, with family and with friends. Sometimes the lines to see the film were huge. I’d never seen anyone line up for a movie before. Each time we saw the film we noticed something new, we memorized more of the dialogue.

A year after its release, we were still going to see Star Wars in the theater. How many films stay in theatrical release for a year now? The Fellowship of the Ring has been around almost six months, but that’s atypical.


At school Star Wars fever had gripped all of the boys. We bought Star Wars cards and Star Wars action figures and Star Wars comic books. We had Star Wars bed sheets and Star Wars underwear and every boy had the same Star Wars t-shirt, our heroes with blasters at the ready. We orderd Dynamite! magazine from the school book service because the cover featured the Star Wars gang. We marveled at the holographic Princess Leia (“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope!”). We were disgusted by the blue milk. We dreamed of light-sabers and X-Wings and Princess Leia. We acted our favorite scenes over and over and over again.

For three years, Star Wars cards were our prized possessions. We coveted them: the blue cards, the red cards, the green cards, the yellow cards, the orange cards. Each pack of cards ($0.15/pack) also contained a Star Wars sticker and stick of hard, pink bubble gum. We put these stickers all over everything. We chewed the gum with gusto.

Star Wars cards were used for currency at school. If I wanted a classmate’s toy or book or comic, I’d offer to trade him Star Wars cards. I remember coveting The Star Wars Storybook, a glossy paperback filled with a plot summary and stills from the film as well as information about the sources of George Lucas’ inspiration to make Star Wars. (Specifically, the book traced his inspiration to Saturday morning serials from forty years earlier, and to pulp science fiction — this was actually my introduction to the idea of pulp science fiction.)

We also played with the Star Wars action figures, which were sold everywhere. We bought many of our figures from the local Coast-to-Coast hardware store ($2.50/each). When Dad went in for vegetable seeds or nails or anything else, we stood entranced before the display of Greedos and Hammerheads and Walrus Men.

We conducted many spectacular battles on the harvest gold shag carpet in the living room of our trailer house. We developed clever games that required switching the capes on the various figures, swapping the lightsabers from one Jedi to another. As The Empire Strikes Back approached, we sent in for the Boba Fett figure. (I believe to this day that the primary reason for Boba Fett’s popularity is that his figure was the first one from Empire to be released — thousands of young boys saved proofs of purchase in order to send away for this figure.) (Here’s a link to a guy in Wisonsin who kept all of his action figures…)

When we didn’t have our Star Wars merchandise with us, we would improvise. When Mom or Dad drove us places we’d fight for the chance to sit in the front seat. We wanted access to the dashboard which would be transformed into the controls for our X-Wing fighter.

We’d flip the tuning knob on the radio: “This is Red Five, I’m going in.” We’d press the buttons to change the preset stations in order to fire our turbolasers. We’d open and close the vents to change the configuration of our wings. We’d scout for TIE Fighters in the mirrors.

Those confined to the back seat would sulk while the lucky bastard in the front seat single-handedly held off Darth Vader and his evil minions.

The Star Wars comic books ($0.35/each) were another source of adventure. The stories were imaginative and seemed like natural extensions of the film. The over-arching plot line related the Rebel Alliance’s quest for a new base. This search required our heroes to visit new, exotic locales: water worlds, giant space stations filled with gladiatorial arenas, industrial planets, etc. The humor and the adventure of the movie were always present.

Once we tried to dramatize the issues in which Luke and company encounter a civil war on the water world, Drexel. This was more difficult than we had anticipated (what we could have done with a modern PC!), so we abandoned the project after only half an issue.

My parents gave us the Star Wars soundtrack for Christmas. We listened to it constantly, all four sides. We loved every track from the opening title sequence to the cantina band to Princess Leia’s Theme to the End Celebration. We wore that vinyl out.

In the fall of 1978 my father purchased an Apple II computer. The machine came with two games on cassette tape: Star Wars and Star Trek. In the Star Wars game, two players using game paddles co-operated to target and destroy TIE Fighters. The toughest TIE Fighters to destroy were the curved-wing “Darth Vader” TIE Fighters. We loved this game.

When VCRs came to prominence in the late-70s and early-80s, the first film we watched on tape was Star Wars.


The Oregonian carried the Star Wars comic strip. The daily strips and the Sunday strips tracked separate stories, both of which were exciting. The strip eventually became Sunday-only and the stories took on a sort of Flash Gordon feel, especially the stylish art from Al Williamson.

In the summer of 1980 we went to a rummage sale at Eccles School in Canby. David Carlson and his brother Paul were there. Paul found a copy of Star Wars #35, an issue that I didn’t have yet. He went to ask his mother for money, and I promised to watch the comic for him, but while he was gone I bought it for myself.

The Star Wars comic book was the first periodical to which I ever subscribed. I saved my money until I could afford to go to the post office for a money order, which I mailed to New York. A few weeks later the first issue of my subscription arrived: Star Wars #39, the first part of the Empire Strikes Back adaptation. I was a subscriber for six years, until the title ceased publication.


The Empire Strikes Back was released when I was eleven. My family went opening weekend, stood in line, sat in a crowded theater. When Luke, sitting on his Tauntaun, lifted his goggles, the crowd cheered. We watched, amazed, at the Battle of Hoth, the attack of the Imperial Walkers. The chase through the asteroid field was like a ride on a roller coaster. The cloud city of Bespin, though clearly derived from the Star Trek episode “The Cloud Miners“, was beautiful to behold. Boba Fett captured our imagination. And — horrors! — Darth Vader revealed that he was Luke’s father!?!

The Brown twins, Sean and Cory, were lucky enough to receive The Empire Strikes Back game cartridge for their Atari 2600 one Christmas. What a fantastic game! Here were Imperial Walkers live on our television screens.

Though the Empire Strikes Back cards weren’t as cool as the original Star Wars cards, we collected them. We also bought the action figures, though these too had lost some of their charm. My Yoda figure was awesome, with its little fabric cloak and little plastic stick. I kept that thing through high school.


The week before Return of the Jedi was released, the fledgling USA Today revealed several important plot points. The most shocking revelation was that Luke and Leia were siblings. Blasphemy! It was also my first experience with a “spoiler”, advance information about a movie.

Later that week, in gym class, when I revealed that Luke and Leia were related, and that I knew this because I had read it in the newspaper, nobody beleived me. Except one little guy who taunted me and said I only knew this because I had already seen the movie.This caused me great offense. I hadn’t seen the film already, I told him, but had read about it in the paper. He told me I was a liar.

We were in the locker room, eighth-graders standing around in jockstraps, and this kid just kept pestering me. I threw him up against the lockers and told him to shut up, that I hadn’t seen the movie, and that if he didn’t leave me alone, I’d beat the crap out of him. It was the first and only time in my life that I ever threatened anyone. And it was because of Star Wars.

The Saturday that Jedi opened, Darren Misner’s mother drove us to the Westgate theater at 6 a.m. She sat in line with us for five hours, a saint of a woman if ever there was one. Darren and I were eager with anticipation. I had brought my father’s microcassette recorder. (My obsession with microcassette recorders started a long time ago.) One of the young men in line had brought a boom box (these were still novel in 1983); he played his Duran Duran tape repeatedly. We listened to “Is There Something I Should Know” a dozen times that moring.

The first half of the movie was thrilling, if contrived, but something happened midway through. Luke and Leia were in an exciting speeder chase through a dense forest and Leia fell off her vehicle. Miraculously she survived.

And then it happened: the turning point in the history of Star Wars.

As Leia came to, she encountered the Marketing Tool. Darren and I, only fourteen, were not impressed. And worse, the Marketing Tools (there turned out to be an entire village of Marketing Tools) somehow managed to defeat the mighty Imprerial Stormtroopers and their advanced weaponry. The Rebel Alliance had been crushed by these Imperials in the Battle of Hoth, but somehow a group of primitive teddy bear-like Marketing Tools were able to do what an organized rebellion could not.

There were other problems with the film, too (much of it felt contrived, strung together in order to get from Point A to Point B without any care for the logic of the actual path), but none compared to the presence of the Marketing Tools.


My enthusiasm for the Star Wars universe has never faded. Throughout high school and college, I watched the films regularly. (I’ll admit that near the end of my college career I sold my comic book collection for money, including all of my Star Wars comic books (of which I had multiple copies of most issues). Where were my priorities?!? I’ve spent the past several years piecing together a nearly complete run of the series again.)

During the nineties I read various Star Wars novels, most notably the almost-good series from Timothy Zahn. I continued to buy various Star Wars comic books, including the Dark Empire series from Dark Horse. I bought the only issue of “Star Wars Generation”, a quality fanzine.

When I purchased my new Apple Macintosh 640CD-DOS compatible personal computer in the fall of 1995, the first game I got for the machine was Star Wars: Dark Forces. I played it through three times. Soon after Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight was released, I bought a PC. (In no small part because of that game.) Dave and I spent one memorable Saturday at his office hacking each other apart with light sabers. More recently, I spent last month under the spell of Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast.

During the past five years I’ve pieced together a nearly-complete run of Marvel’s Star Wars comics (thanks largely to Excalibur Comics’ semi-regular 50% off sales). They’re great reading. (I look forward to the impending Dark Horse trade paperback collections with will gather these stories into more easily accessible volumes).


On 31 January 1997, Star Wars was re-realeased with fancy new effects and added scenes. Kris and I took time off work that day to see the show. We watched it twice. It was fantastic.

As Phantom Menace neared release, I downloaded both trailers and brought them to work. We watched them over and over, awestruck. This new movie was going to be better than all three of the previous Star Wars films combined! When Phantom Menace action figures began to trickle onto the market in March of 1999, Kris and I bought one for Paul Jolstead as a birthday present. Custom Box Service bought a bagful. We put together little Star Wars packages which Tony took around to our best customers. When the movie was released, we bought tickets for one of our clients.

Kris and I bought tickets for the 12:01 a.m. showing. We stood in a rowdy line at the Hilltop Theater in Oregon City, we cheered as the scroll crawled across the screen. Then we sat in a muddled mixture of terror and amazement as the story unfolded. The next day I took time off work to go see the movie twice more. I could barely sit through the third showing. This film worse than could have been imagined, worse than Jedi, far worse than the trailers had led us to believe. This was a black mark on the Star Wars universe. The ending was inconceivably bad. Sure, the pod race was fun and Ewan McGregor did a fine job, but the rest of the movie was a failure.

I thought Attack of the Clones had to be better, but the trailers revealed that this wasn’t likely to be the case. And then I saw the film…


Star Wars has been a defining force (heh heh) in my life for the past twenty-five years. It galls me to see it reduced to a mere shadow of what it once was.

Comments

On 21 May 2002 (05:17 AM),
Dagny said:

Well, JD – it galls me that you were responsible for such pain in Paul Carlson’s life. He probably needed therapy over that, you know.

On 21 May 2002 (05:29 AM),
Dagny said:

Oh yeah – I almost forgot. If you want to see vintage Star Wars wall paper, give Mike Groff a call and arrange a tour of his parents’ house. The upstairs bedroom that used to be Dave’s is still resplendent in heroes.

On 18 June 2005 (05:50 PM),
Rich Handley said:

The Star Wars strip never became Sunday-only. It ran seven days a week from the beginning to the end. It’s possible the paper you read them in only carried the strip on Sundays, but it ran every day of the week until the last week of the series.

U2: A Love Story

I entered high school in the fall of 1983. My sixth period class, the last class of the day, was Speech Communications taught by Wilma Hicks. Mrs. Hicks had led Canby Union High School‘s speech team to glory for a quarter of a century, but I had no illusions of greatness. I just wanted to fulfill a requirement.

A few days into the year, Mrs. Hicks was diagnosed with cancer. She took an extended leave of absence, but was dead within a weeks. Meanwhile, Mr. Stegmeier served as our substitute teacher. I, and every other kid in the Canby school district, had known Mr. Stegmeier for years; he was a substitute teacher at all levels. He was a nice guy, but he didn�t act so much as a teacher he acted as a babysitter. Mr. Stegmeier was a pastor at a local church, and he spent his classtime preparing sermons.

(Throughout my high school career, Mr. Stegmeier called me “Jonathan”, which he knew bugged me. I don’t care what people call me. Except for “Jonathan”. My name isn’t “Jonathan”. In retaliation, I never called him Mr. Stegmeier, I called him “Willy”. Disrespectful, yes, but good-natured. We called each other �Jonathan� and �Willy� for four years, in speech and geometry and choir and chemistry and English and health and every other class but PE.)

While Mr. Stegmeier babysat our speech class, we lounged around the cavernous speech room in Lower B, which was part of a 75-year-old structure that made up a large portion of the school. B Wing was beautiful (though we didn’t appreciate it then), built of rich, dark hardwoods, with towering ceilings and wide corridors. It comprised two levels — Upper B and Lower B — and an ancient auditorium. The home-ec classes were held at one end of Lower B, the journalism and speech classes at the other end. Upper B housed English classes and various special ed and administrative areas.

My favorite part of B Wing was the “secret” rooms. These rooms weren’t really secret, just rarely visited. There were many doors throughout the hall, only some of which led to classrooms. Others led to a teachers’ lounge, the school store (which rarely operated), to the boiler room, to the theater’s control room, etc.

The best door led to the text book storage area, a hot, tight, dark room filled with aging textbooks. In my memory, there was only a single light-bulb, activated by a pull-chain, to light the entire room. It was musty. The boiler room was nearby, and the book room could become very hot. (It’s amazing the books never caught fire!) There were makeshift shelves along the walls, and spanning the center of the room. The school’s spare textbooks were kept here, and to a young bibliophile (yes, I loved books even at the age of fifteen) this room was like a candy store.

(B-Wing was torn down a decade ago and a new main wing was erected in its place. The new structure is a labyrinth of sterile corridors with cookie-cutter rooms and a fluorescent soaked library. It’s impersonal, lacks character, has no charm. B-Wing had its shortcomings (it was a fire trap), but it was a beautiful old building. It had personality.)

While Mr. Stegmeier babysat our speech communications class, the students lounged around the cavernous room in Lower B, earning a required credit just for taking up space. Most of the students were upperclassmen. One of them, Angela Something-Or-Other, became my first high school girlfriend, and was the reason that another upperclassmen beat the shit out of me one day (a story for another time). Another of the upperclassmen in the room was a guy that had just moved to Canby from Colorado. (I have no idea what his name was.)

One day this guy brought in a tape by a band I’d never heard of: U2. “Ha. What a funny name,” I told him. “Yeah,” he said, “but they’re really good.” He asked Mr. Stegmeier for a tape player. Mr. Stegmeier complied and we listened to an album called Under a Blood Red Sky.

I didn�t know whether to like the music or not. At the time I was listening to some Styx and Journey, but was most fond of the New Wave music that had recently swept the country. This band, U2, was straightforward rock-and-roll: drums and guitars and a lead singer with a distinctive voice. We listened to the album a couple of times over the course of a week. I decided I liked it.

That winter, KSKD began to play a song by U2 called “New Year’s Day”. I loved this song the moment I heard it. (But wait! you’re saying. Isn’t “New Year’s Day” on Under a Blood Red Sky? Why, yes it is. But I hadn’t noticed the song during speech class.) The next time we were at the Oregon City Fred Meyer (the source for all of our music in those days), I bought U2�s album War, which contained “New Year’s Day”. Jeff and I listened to this album for weeks on end. The music was fantastic. Rock-and-roll, yes, but rock-and-roll with a passion, with a unique style, with lyrics that resonated in our tiny teenaged hearts. War was the perfect album for a long winter: bleak and aching, with
promises of hope.

Sometime during this year, my friendship with Dave crumbled and Paul became my new best friend. He was also a U2 fan. Between Paul, Jeff, and myself, we soon owned every U2 album (which wasn’t difficult since there were only four of them).

In the fall of 1984, U2 released The Unforgettable Fire. Jeff and I bought the album at the Oregon City Fred Meyer again, this time on tape instead of vinyl. We listened to it constantly, as did Paul. It had a different style than the previous albums, ethereal and moody. “A Sort of Homecoming” is a typical song � full of hope and the expectation of things to come. (The whole album now reminds me of West Side Story’s “Something’s Coming”.) Paul and I listened to The Unforgettable Fire at soccer practice that fall: sun blazing, sweaty bodies, U2 playing at the edge of the field.

In the summer of 1985, U2 performed at Live Aid. I spent all day lying on the couch in the living room of the trailer house, sweating, watching the show. When U2 stepped onto the stage, I turned up the volume. They began to play and I was transported. Their unending version of “Bad” (Live Aid version here) was beautiful, moving, haunting. Bono pulled a young woman on-stage and danced with her. It was magical.

Paul and I began to acquire U2 obscuria. We bought biographies of the band (difficult to find in the mid-eighties) and early 45s, we tacked posters to our walls.

The Joshua Tree was released in mid-March 1987. Before the album was released, KGON played preview tracks. We taped them. My favorite was the dark and brooding “Exit”. “With or Without You” became the first single from the album and was played all over the radio. The previous U2 singles had all but been largely ignored, but this song was climbing the charts.

On the day of The Joshua Tree�s release, Paul approached me and asked me if I wanted to skip school to buy it. I was reluctant — I had only skipped one day prior to this — but agreed. Tower Records in Eastport Plaza had become our source for music (Fred Meyer didn’t carry the obscure New Wave and techno stuff that we’d grown to love), so we drove to Portland and bought the album on both vinyl and cassette. I also bought the “With or Without You” single, the first single that I had ever seen on cassette tape instead of on a 45. We left after break (10:00ish) and were back by lunch.

The Joshua Tree was my soundtrack for the Summer of 1987. In the fall I went to college, and still played the album constantly. There were many U2 fans in the dorm, people who had liked the band even longer than I had. One time I got into a conversation about U2 with a gorgeous young woman visiting from some other school. We played “Sweetest Thing�, a B-Side to “With or Without You”, and we sat in my room laughing. She left that evening and I never saw her again.

During my sophomore year at Willamette I was a DJ at KWU, the campus radio station. I didn�t really want to be a DJ, but I knew that the station got album releases before the stores. Further, I knew that U2 was releasing an album in October. My devious plan worked. When the station received its copy of Rattle and Hum, I was able to “borrow” it to tape it weeks before I could have bought the album.

That was the fall that I pledged Kappa Sigma. One evening a group of us pledges were sitting around being cool, smoking cigars and pipes and clove cigarettes at the fraternity house, when somebody noted that the film of Rattle and Hum was playing near the campus. We threw on jackets and tromped across the wet quad, smoking our cigars and our pipes and our clove cigarettes. We were the only people in the theater (which was good, because we were surrounded by an offensive miasma that could have killed stout livestock), and the sound was poor, but we loved the movie. Afterwards, we sloughed back to campus (smoking our cigars and our pipes and our clove cigarettes) and crowded into somebody’s room to listen to old U2 albums.

In the fall of 1991 I got a job selling Combined Insurance. (This, too, is a story for another time.) The highlight of my insurance selling career was the release of U2’s new album, Achtung Baby, in November. We were canvassing in Hood River at the time, and I had trouble locating a store that sold the album. When I did find it, I sat and listened to it in my brand-new Geo Storm, a quart of chocolate milk between my knees and a box of old-fashioned cake donuts by my side (I was in the process of ballooning from 160 pounds to 190 pounds). I didn’t know what to think. I listened to the album almost constantly for a week, but still didn’t know whether I liked it or not. The sound was new and different.

I grew to like Achtung Baby with time but for the rest of the decade U2’s music left me cold. Bono became a victim of his own hype, of his own smugness, of his own self-satisfaction. He was a parody of himself, an exact image of all that he claimed to despise. The band seemed to lose its focus. U2 became more of political organization than a rock-and-roll band.

Jeff gave me All That You Can’t Leave Behind for Christmas in 2000, and while I admit “Beautiful Day” is a great song in the old-style U2 tradition, I can’t embrace most of the album. It does herald a return to their old sound, but many of the lyrics are terrible. I’m anxious to see what they produce next.

Paul continued to collect their stuff and now has a substantial collection of U2 material. In fact, when I think of U2, I think of Paul. He follows them, always knows what their next project is. He’s a U2 encyclopedia.


Which U2 album was the turning point in the band’s career, the album that spurred them to fame and glory?

For my money, it’s the live Under a Blood Red Sky. This was the album that introduced many of us to U2, the album that caused us to become U2 evangelists. Without Under a Blood Red Sky, I think U2 would be just another Midnight Oil, a rock band with modest success and a cult following but without a fan base to support megapopularity. The live performance at Red Rocks was outstanding; it helped to build a cadre of loyal fans that spread the word about the band.

And the pivotal moment in their career? Without a doubt, it’s their performance at Live Aid. This was the first time U2 had wide exposure, and the band took advantage by staging the performance of a lifetime. Synnergy. Serendipity. Whatever. Their performance brought them to the attention of casual music-buyers that might have otherwise ignored them. From that moment on, they were superstars.

“There’s been a lot of talk about this next song, maybe too much talk. This song is not a rebel song. This song is ‘Sunday Blood Sunday.'”

Comments


On 22 March 2002 (12:57 PM),
Paul said:

JD,
I thought we saw Rattle and Hum together. I know I saw it twice the day of its release. Once in Eugene and the second in Salem.

My favorite is Wide Awake in America. Though it is not a full length ep, it captures the heart of The Unforgettable Fire ep with studio and live recordings. The singles from these releases extends their offering of the sound that they produced during this period of recording.

One of their strongest singles in my opinion is PLEASE. It is a diamond in an a caucophony of different sounds from their “electronic” recording period. It is this period that you believe that ego warps U2, but I believe it is their attempt at staying current and progressive that caused a misdirection of their sound. PLEASE reconfirmed their ability to stay relevant and construct a sound that is emotional and unique.

Your story is not a just a love of U2, but also a story of JD.



On 22 March 2002 (02:04 PM),
jdroth said:

You know, you were there for the Rattle and Hum viewing. It was always great to have you visit Willamette.

I’d love to hear more singles from your collection, actually. I borrowed a pile of them a couple of years ago, but mainly just took the stuff from the early nineties. Maybe their recent stuff will sound better to me now that I’m older.

Also, you’re right: Wide Awake in America is a fantastic piece of work, even though it comprises only four songs. The Live Aid version of “Bad” isn’t commercially available (is it?), but the live recording on Wide Awake is a suitable substitute.



On 26 March 2002 (01:24 PM),
Dagny said:

Ah B wing. That *did* have character, didn’t it? I always liked it too, for what it’s worth… more than anything I miss the womb of Lower B, the speech back room. I didn’t exactly “come of age” there in the sense that’s usually meant, but I felt at home. Plus I learned the word {carrion} from the bold assertion written in permanent black marker: JODI CARGILL IS CARRION. To this day, I don’t know who had such a vendetta against Jodi Cargill, but she must have done *something* to tick someone off.

Mega-props out to Mr. Stegmeier too.

It’s like a walk down amnesia lane.



On 24 May 2002 (06:15 PM),
wicket said:

I just wanted to let you know the tradition of bieng cool in front of k sig with the cigars and cloves lives on….
aekdb



On 01 April 2003 (07:17 PM),
Tiffany said:

This is off the subject and I am not all that into U2, but I just wanted to say that I am a memeber of the church the “Mr. Stegmeier” is pastor of although I refer to him as Bro. Stegmeier. He is a wonderful man, one of the kindest most giving people I have ever met in my life.



On 28 August 2003 (12:48 PM),
amy said:

I don’t know a single thing about U2, but I do have a few ‘B’ wing stories myself. Had my locker in lower B the year I got my driver’s license and dated David M. I sewed a large satin M & M in that home ec. department. Also learned how to make biscuits–my home ec teacher didn’t like me–I think because I was cuter than her… :) Anyway, I graduated from CUHS in 1984, the year you were a freshman. Mrs. Hicks was a legend at that school. And Mr. Stegmeier? Never saw him write a sermon during class, but do know that he was a kind man who loved the Lord. Thanks for the stroll down memory lane.



On 05 March 2004 (04:09 PM),
Lynn said:

Mr. Stegmeier…what a neat guy. He called all the boys “Jonathon” and all the girls “Sally.”



On 24 March 2004 (01:58 PM),
Peter Stathakos said:

Two years later, I found this blog entry and it sparks a memory with me. I blog about it here.

Thanks J.D.

Running Bear

I was raised listening to classical music and 60s folk rock, but the music my father loved was the rock-and-roll of the late 50s and early 60s. Dad graduated from high school in 1963; the music from 1959-1963 was his favorite.

Why didn’t he listen to this music?

Dad played guitar in high school. At least one yearbook has pictures of him playing and singing on stage. He played at talent shows, and possibly at other occasions. When I was young he played at family gatherings, singing those old songs that he loved.

(The song I most clearly remember him playing is “Running Bear”, an old Johnny Preston tune. I can remember a Thanksgiving at Uncle Norman’s house in Monitor, Dad seated in the living room bellering “Running Bear”, and a young Tony running naked through the house.)

Why didn’t he listen to this music?

At home we listened to Simon and Garfunkel, Peter Paul and Mary, Neil Diamond, and similar musicians. Sure, Dad liked their music, but he loved Buddy Holly. He never listened to Buddy Holly. He never played the Del Vikings. He didn’t listen to the radio stations that played their songs and he didn’t ever buy any of their records or tapes.

Why didn’t he listen to this music?

The film Stand By Me was released in 1986. When Dad first heard the sountrack he was giddy, his face glowed. He beamed. He told me a story about every song. (His favorite was “Come Go With Me” by the Del Vikings.)

It was obvious that he loved this music, so why didn’t he ever listen to it?



This is a photo of Dad singing for Norman’s family in the living room of the trailer house in which I was raised. My cousin Bob is the blond kid sitting on the arm of the couch. My cousin Nick is sitting to Dad’s right, and next to him sits Dad’s brother, Norman. Nick and I can’t figure out who the kid sitting behind Bob is.

The trailer house now serves as the office for Custom Box Service. The living room is now the “employee lounge” (such as it is). My office, where I sit now and type this, is in Mom and Dad’s old bedroom. Custom Box is nothing if not frugal.

Note the lovely goldenrod curtains and the stylish wood paneling. The entire trailer house, including my office, has this same wood paneling. I’ve lived with it my entire life. I’m sick of it. Above Norman’s head you can see that the ceiling is already water-stained, though the trailer house can be no more than five years old when this picture was taken. The trailer is thirty years old now and the ceiling has too many water stains to count.


Here are two of the songs that I remember my father singing (the latter of which, “The Prisoner’s Song”, is similar to the music featured on the popular O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack):

Running Bear
(J.P. Richardson)

Johnny Preston (Mercury 71474, 1959)

On the banks of the river
Stood Runnin’ Bear, young Indian brave
On the other side of the river
Stood his lovely Indian maid
Little White Dove was-a her name
Such a lovely sight to see
But their tribes fought with each other

So their love could never be

Runnin’ Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Runnin’ Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn’t die

He couldn’t swim the raging river
‘Cause the river was too wide
He couldn’t reach Little White Dove

Waiting on the other side
In the moonlight he could see her
Throwing kisses ‘cross the waves
Her little heart was beating faster
Waiting there for her brave

Runnin’ Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Runnin’ Bear loved Little White Dove

With a love that couldn’t die

Runnin’ Bear dove in the water
Little White Dove did the same
And they swam out to each other
Through the swirling stream they came
As their hands touched and their lips met
The ragin’ river pulled them down
Now they’ll always be together

In that happy hunting ground

Runnin’ Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love big as the sky
Runnin’ Bear loved Little White Dove
With a love that couldn’t die

  The Prisoner’s Song
(Guy Massey)
Vernon Dalhart (1925)

Oh! I wish I had someone to love me
Someone to call me their own
Oh! I wish I had someone to live with
‘Cause I’m tired of livin’ alone

Please meet me tonight in the moonlight
Please meet me tonight all alone
For I have a sad story to tell you
It’s a story that’s never been told

I’ll be carried to the new jail tomorrow
Leaving my poor darling alone
With the cold prison bars all around me
And my head on a pillow of stone

Now I have a grand ship on the ocean
All mounted with silver and gold
And before my poor darlin’ would suffer
Oh! that ship would be anchored and sold

Now if I had wings like an angel
Over these prison bars I would fly
And I’d fly to the arms of my poor darlin’
And there I’d be willing to die.

Comments

On 08 March 2002 (09:39 PM),
Dane said:

In the same vein, why doesn’t my dad like anything?

My dad can be a voluminous reader. He reads quickly and has good retention. He does read for pleasure. But he doesn’t buy anything to read for pleasure. He reads the paper and magazines. Very occasionally (I can remember ONCE — the Joy Luck Club) he will get a book for a plane trip.

When you ask him what he likes to read, he answers, “Anything.”

I have finally managed to find stuff he actively dislikes. I gave him copies of Copeland’s Microserfs and also Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49. He didn’t finish either and described them as “weird.”

So I know he has limits.

I don’t understand why he doesn’t actually buy books for himself to read when he clearly enjoys reading. I don’t understand why he won’t admit to liking any particular genre or style of book. It’s a mystery.



On 08 March 2002 (09:41 PM),
J.D. said:

I agree that this is strange. What is it that caused our fathers to behave like this? Is it something generational?



On 08 March 2002 (09:46 PM),
Dane said:

I dunno. It may have something to do with their ages. I think your dad was (technically) a boomer, too, but at the same time I get the impression he didn’t “partake” of the boomer culture in general, and neither have my parents. They were far too “straight laced” — they graduated from college around 1967, but it was a Lutheran college and women weren’t allowed to wear pants. Stuff like that.



On 18 April 2002 (09:27 PM),
Nota Dad said:

Mr. Dane,

Don’t know what is meant by “(technically) a boomer, too”, but if da doofy dad did da grad in 1963, he was likely born during that wwII thing and no way a boomer, and, I can tell you, spent his formative years experiencing things in a different way than the multitudes who followed did. Herein is probably also a clue to why he likes to experience the music and books the way he does.
Now I go try out Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49.
Cheerz



On 01 December 2002 (11:14 PM),
Ron said:

JD,

The other person in the picture is Steve Grover, the first foster child my parents had. This picture would have been taken in 1974.



On 03 March 2003 (10:56 AM),
Sandi said:

1963 was a great year to graduate, and I am sure that somewhere, his high school, like ours, is planning a 40th reunion……who remembers the songs from 1959-1963??? Unfortunately, our committee to find these songs, is brain dead! Help!


On 28 March 2003 (04:58 PM),
Teresa said:

i would greatly appreciate any pictures on Running Bear either on his own or with White Dove, I’m really desperate, please help

Bad Soup

Here’s a conversation that Kris and I will not be having ever again.

Kris: Honey, for dinner why don’t you have this three-week-old garlic-onion soup and this three-week-old wine?
Me: Okay.

Why won’t we be having this conversation again? Because from now on I’ll be saying “Hell no! Throw that shit out!”

I’ve spent all morning (the last three hours) spewing bodily fluids from various openings. I’ve never vomited so much in my life. And it all tastes like garlic-onion soup (mixed with bile, of course).

I can only hope that I get over this by about noon, which is when Fellowship of the Ring starts.

Gotta run. Stomach is rumbling again…