I am not exactly the world's biggest technology geek, but I can generally hold my own. However, there are times when having a new gadget throws my world into flux.
Enter, my new phone.
Two years ago, this phone probably would have been considered quite the swanky thing. Now, it's only marginally less antiquated than my previous phone, which didn't even have internet, for Pete's sake (By the way, who is Pete, pray tell, and why does so much happen in the world for his sake?). So, now I have a phone that also sends me my email. It has a web browser, but I'm not even going there right now. I am already completely befuddled by the fact that my email now follows me around; I do not need to pay more money so that I can be chased around by the interweb.
I love to feel connected. I really love to feel conveniently connected. I was excited about the potential of this phone, that I would not need to carry my computer while traveling, that I could more easily be out of the office without worrying that people couldn't reach me. What I don't love is the feeling that the amount of gadgetry I have is inversely proportional to the amount of time I spend in actual, quality conversation. I'm getting sick of sitting with people at restaurants and bars and having them constantly looking at their phones, and I SO do not want to become one of those people.
My fancy phone may mean that I'm in contact with more people. It might mean I'm connected, whatever that means. But it doesn't mean that I'm growing in depth in relationships with people. Let's just hope it doesn't mean the opposite.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Catching Up
I am a lame and delinquent blogger. If you're still checking here, thanks for sticking with me. I have nothing particularly profound to say today, but I'm trying to get back into the habit of writing, so I'll catch you up on a few things I've been listening to/reading/doing lately.
Listening:
***(beware, this may actually be an advertisement cleverly disguised as a life update)***
You can listen to the whole thing, and since you will inevitably want to buy it, why not do so from itunes, preferably on Wednesday? Some of us are trying to boost them past some monks into spot #1 on the world music charts.
I just made a week-long mad dash around Canada to go to three of their shows, and I have to say that the best way to hear them for the first time (and many times thereafter, if possible) is live. You can't duplicate the energy, showmanship, humor, and graciousness of the live experience on a recording. That said, the album is fantastic. Their lyrics just keep getting better with time, and while the increasing addition of other musical influences has rubbed some of their more traditional Celtic fans the wrong way, I'm a big fan of the diversity. There's no room for boredom when you combine Celtic roots with hints of bluegrass, jazz, prog rock, folk, sea shanties, and power ballads and stadium rock a la 80s. Highlights for me:
- The Litter and the Leaves: an epic, beer-slinging, mayhem-with-a-message...well, it seems cliched to say it because it's in the song, but the only word I can think of for it is "anthem." It causes me to periodically burst into choruses of, "You can find me in the gutter!" and that's no small feat.
- Noseworthy and Piercy: the story of two fishermen from Newfoundland, set within a musical arrangement that makes you feel the wind, the waves, and the anxiety of being lost at sea. It's not easy to pull off that sea shanty feel without lapsing into cheesiness, but they more than manage.
- Suburban Plains: in case they weren't working with enough influences, let's throw in a beat that sounds straight from the Caribbean beaches (although the promo materials say it's African).
- Murphy's Ashes (which will forever be known in my mind as the March of the Zombies): I'm not usually the world's biggest fan of instrumentals, but seriously, this is freaking brilliant.
- Sea of Crutches: I confess that my love of this song probably comes almost entirely from my extreme jealousy of Miranda Mulholland, who got to record the wonderful harmonies.
Lest you believe me to be completely uncritical (ha), I am not crazy about "Lights and Cars." They have changed it quite a bit since its original (saxophone - ack!) days, but I still expect Rob Lowe and Demi Moore to walk out of a bar every time I hear it (sing along with me now, "St. Elmo's fire..."). If another band played it, I'd probably think it was a fine song, but from ETH, I just find it boring. Also, as a whole, I can't help but wish the album sounded a little grittier. I've heard others call it "overproduced," but I suspect that's a misunderstanding of the term. It seems to me that more of the songs are driven by the keyboards as opposed to the fiddle, or by acoustic guitar rather than a crunchy electric, and so many of the songs come off with a smoother, more polite sound. I prefer my music a little rougher and more urgent...but since I get that in spades from "The Litter and the Leaves" and "Murphy's Ashes," I'll deal.
Reading:
I'm in a Palahniuk phase. I prefered Survivor, which had me on a constant cycle of cringing and laughing out loud. Choke was more graphic - the detailed descriptions of anatomy, sex, and other bodily functions were endless. It was also less amusing; the humor seemed more forced, as though the author keeps saying, "Look how dark and warped I am." But it was still a provocative look at addiction, insanity, invention, and the difference between people's emotional needs and what they think they want - and are comfortable with wanting.
The part of the book that has stuck with me most clearly is a passage about criticism. Essentially, criticism enables people to participate in something without taking the risk of actually creating something and putting it out into the world. I've been thinking about this in relation to my own music and writing, and how much easier it is to criticize than to get off my duff and produce something of my own. That hasn't stopped me from writing this blog post, though.
Doing:
Working. Trying to get church members hooked up with not-for-profit agencies that enable them to use their interests and gifts. Directing the energies of our youth, who came back from Louisiana all fired up to volunteer locally. Being frustrated at the fact that I so often get requests for resources that I know exist, but that are not accessible except within very narrow requirements. Suddenly getting a run of people in relational crises who want to talk (which just goes to show you that when people are in crisis, they don't consider whether they should maybe talk to someone else...like someone who actually knows anything about relationships, but whatever). Getting ready for wedding season. It begins this weekend, and will continue to usurp my weekends throughout the next three months.
Traveling, for work and play. 2009 has already included Vegas, a couple of trips to New Jersey, Pennsylvania, NYC, Massachusetts, the aforementioned Canadian road trip extraordinaire, and Camp Fowler. Coming up in the relatively near future are Michigan, Minnesota, and the North Dakota Badlands. Note the tragic lack of Scotland, Ireland, Norway, or any other destination across the pond in that list. All the travel of the last few months has begun to wear on me, though; I'm starting to actually like hanging out in my apartment. Weird.
Music. Somehow, I'm managing to play solo gigs with relative regularity, and keep up rehearsals with the band. It's been too long since we've had a gig, and I have not had time to focus on booking. Boo, hiss, I need someone else to do these things. I also need to do some writing, because I would like to get a real CD out in the next year or so, and I need to have more to choose from before I can do that and like the results.
Whew. That's all for now.
Listening:
***(beware, this may actually be an advertisement cleverly disguised as a life update)***
You can listen to the whole thing, and since you will inevitably want to buy it, why not do so from itunes, preferably on Wednesday? Some of us are trying to boost them past some monks into spot #1 on the world music charts.I just made a week-long mad dash around Canada to go to three of their shows, and I have to say that the best way to hear them for the first time (and many times thereafter, if possible) is live. You can't duplicate the energy, showmanship, humor, and graciousness of the live experience on a recording. That said, the album is fantastic. Their lyrics just keep getting better with time, and while the increasing addition of other musical influences has rubbed some of their more traditional Celtic fans the wrong way, I'm a big fan of the diversity. There's no room for boredom when you combine Celtic roots with hints of bluegrass, jazz, prog rock, folk, sea shanties, and power ballads and stadium rock a la 80s. Highlights for me:
- The Litter and the Leaves: an epic, beer-slinging, mayhem-with-a-message...well, it seems cliched to say it because it's in the song, but the only word I can think of for it is "anthem." It causes me to periodically burst into choruses of, "You can find me in the gutter!" and that's no small feat.
- Noseworthy and Piercy: the story of two fishermen from Newfoundland, set within a musical arrangement that makes you feel the wind, the waves, and the anxiety of being lost at sea. It's not easy to pull off that sea shanty feel without lapsing into cheesiness, but they more than manage.
- Suburban Plains: in case they weren't working with enough influences, let's throw in a beat that sounds straight from the Caribbean beaches (although the promo materials say it's African).
- Murphy's Ashes (which will forever be known in my mind as the March of the Zombies): I'm not usually the world's biggest fan of instrumentals, but seriously, this is freaking brilliant.
- Sea of Crutches: I confess that my love of this song probably comes almost entirely from my extreme jealousy of Miranda Mulholland, who got to record the wonderful harmonies.
Lest you believe me to be completely uncritical (ha), I am not crazy about "Lights and Cars." They have changed it quite a bit since its original (saxophone - ack!) days, but I still expect Rob Lowe and Demi Moore to walk out of a bar every time I hear it (sing along with me now, "St. Elmo's fire..."). If another band played it, I'd probably think it was a fine song, but from ETH, I just find it boring. Also, as a whole, I can't help but wish the album sounded a little grittier. I've heard others call it "overproduced," but I suspect that's a misunderstanding of the term. It seems to me that more of the songs are driven by the keyboards as opposed to the fiddle, or by acoustic guitar rather than a crunchy electric, and so many of the songs come off with a smoother, more polite sound. I prefer my music a little rougher and more urgent...but since I get that in spades from "The Litter and the Leaves" and "Murphy's Ashes," I'll deal.
Reading:
I'm in a Palahniuk phase. I prefered Survivor, which had me on a constant cycle of cringing and laughing out loud. Choke was more graphic - the detailed descriptions of anatomy, sex, and other bodily functions were endless. It was also less amusing; the humor seemed more forced, as though the author keeps saying, "Look how dark and warped I am." But it was still a provocative look at addiction, insanity, invention, and the difference between people's emotional needs and what they think they want - and are comfortable with wanting.
The part of the book that has stuck with me most clearly is a passage about criticism. Essentially, criticism enables people to participate in something without taking the risk of actually creating something and putting it out into the world. I've been thinking about this in relation to my own music and writing, and how much easier it is to criticize than to get off my duff and produce something of my own. That hasn't stopped me from writing this blog post, though.
Doing:
Working. Trying to get church members hooked up with not-for-profit agencies that enable them to use their interests and gifts. Directing the energies of our youth, who came back from Louisiana all fired up to volunteer locally. Being frustrated at the fact that I so often get requests for resources that I know exist, but that are not accessible except within very narrow requirements. Suddenly getting a run of people in relational crises who want to talk (which just goes to show you that when people are in crisis, they don't consider whether they should maybe talk to someone else...like someone who actually knows anything about relationships, but whatever). Getting ready for wedding season. It begins this weekend, and will continue to usurp my weekends throughout the next three months.
Traveling, for work and play. 2009 has already included Vegas, a couple of trips to New Jersey, Pennsylvania, NYC, Massachusetts, the aforementioned Canadian road trip extraordinaire, and Camp Fowler. Coming up in the relatively near future are Michigan, Minnesota, and the North Dakota Badlands. Note the tragic lack of Scotland, Ireland, Norway, or any other destination across the pond in that list. All the travel of the last few months has begun to wear on me, though; I'm starting to actually like hanging out in my apartment. Weird.
Music. Somehow, I'm managing to play solo gigs with relative regularity, and keep up rehearsals with the band. It's been too long since we've had a gig, and I have not had time to focus on booking. Boo, hiss, I need someone else to do these things. I also need to do some writing, because I would like to get a real CD out in the next year or so, and I need to have more to choose from before I can do that and like the results.
Whew. That's all for now.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Bar Ministry
When I started doing what is now called "bar ministry," it was more like sitting in a bar - because I happened to have bartendeded for longer than I had really been around churches, and bars felt more comfortable than churches, and had beer - and happening to talk about Jesus from time to time. Now it seems that bar ministry is more en vogue in the church crowd, so I thought I would write a brief post about what bar ministry is usually like for me.
You sit in a bar. Sometimes you sit there for hours. You drink beer and chat about stupid things. Eventually, you think, "Well, that was fun, but I'm not sure it qualifies as work/ministry." You notice that it's getting really late. Then you think maybe you'll pay your tab and go home. About that time, someone sits down next to you and says, "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." They start to talk about surface-y things. They buy you another drink that you don't really need or necessarily want. And then they start to spill. All kinds of things come out. It's then that the more obvious ministry part usually happens.
The difficult thing is, you never know whether they're really serious about the things they say, or whether all of this is just coming out because it's late and they're drunk. After this happens a couple of times, you have to choose whether to be cynical about the drunken confessional aspect of it all. But if you really want to do this thing people now call bar ministry, you sit there and listen anyway, because there's grace in someone being there at the moment that you can finally say what you need to say, even if it's alcohol fueled and you won't remember it in the morning.
I know some people who do bar ministry in other ways, who go to bars but don't drink alcohol while they're there, who stay only a short time, who introduce themselves to everyone as pastors and talk from the very beginning only about religious things. Maybe that works for them, but all that has ever worked for me is the time that I've spent talking about stupid things, that enables people to sit down and have those late night crazy discussions about the real things.
You sit in a bar. Sometimes you sit there for hours. You drink beer and chat about stupid things. Eventually, you think, "Well, that was fun, but I'm not sure it qualifies as work/ministry." You notice that it's getting really late. Then you think maybe you'll pay your tab and go home. About that time, someone sits down next to you and says, "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." They start to talk about surface-y things. They buy you another drink that you don't really need or necessarily want. And then they start to spill. All kinds of things come out. It's then that the more obvious ministry part usually happens.
The difficult thing is, you never know whether they're really serious about the things they say, or whether all of this is just coming out because it's late and they're drunk. After this happens a couple of times, you have to choose whether to be cynical about the drunken confessional aspect of it all. But if you really want to do this thing people now call bar ministry, you sit there and listen anyway, because there's grace in someone being there at the moment that you can finally say what you need to say, even if it's alcohol fueled and you won't remember it in the morning.
I know some people who do bar ministry in other ways, who go to bars but don't drink alcohol while they're there, who stay only a short time, who introduce themselves to everyone as pastors and talk from the very beginning only about religious things. Maybe that works for them, but all that has ever worked for me is the time that I've spent talking about stupid things, that enables people to sit down and have those late night crazy discussions about the real things.
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