The Last Waltz

In the late 70’s, the musical group unimaginatively called "The Band" gave a farewell concert (they chose the name The Band after realizing that people would always say; - hey the band is here, - is the band ready? - does the band know?). They became famous not only for such hits as Up on Cripple Creek and Take a Load off Annie, but also for being the primary backup “band” for Bob Dylan for many years.

Martin Scorsese decided to film the farewell concert and the resulting movie, The Last Waltz, has been dubbed in many quarters as the best film ever in the concert genre. Scorsese became such great friends with The Band’s leader, Robbie Roberston, during filming that they became NY roommates for several years after the movie. The Band was given an honorary lifetime Grammy achievement award this year along with such also-rans as The Beatles. Having recently watched The Last Waltz on PBS, what stuck with me was the title.

There comes a time in life when you realize that you are dancing your "last waltz" with respect to some things. This can be a good thing if your feet really hurt from a lifetime of waltzing or a bad thing if you have always loved to dance. More practically, you reach a point when you realize that many aspects of your life are the best they are going to be - or - the “last” they are going to be. Best things include; financial opportunities, health, etc. Last things can be, your last address, meaning your last move, which brings your last phone number, last primary care physician, last car purchase and on and on. There are many important “last” things that one simply must come to fully understand before the lights go out for the “last” time, such as:

The Last Train to Clarksville,
The Last Tango in Paris,
The Last Hard Men,
The Last King of Scotland,
The Last of the Red Hot Lovers,

The Last Dance,

The Last of the Mohicans, &,
The Last Time I Saw Paris. (France or Hilton?)

It is easy to be melancholy about last things. But as the famous philosopher Mick Jagger said in a recent Parade Magazine interview, “there is nothing worse than a 40 year old ex-pro football player sitting on a bar stool telling the story one more time of his famous break-away run when he was 22”. But when Mick was 22, he said it would really be pathetic if he was still singing Satisfaction when he was 40. Well, how about 65, Mick? His life philosophy is to keep moving forward no matter what. To show how he has grown as an individual, he can no longer party all night then give a concert the next day. He has to choose between the two. That’s real personal growth, if you ask me.

When does this “last” perspective come about? I think it begins when we start to experience the passing of family and friends. It changes one’s outlook considerably. But the bright side is that no one ever says anything bad about someone in their obituary. Up until this change of view begins to happen to you, the best advice is to never compare yourself or your life with anyone’s. C.S. Lewis wrote that (para) "discontentment only comes when we compare".

Last things do not necessarily mean a decline. It can mean reaching a realistic plateau, then living to not lose ground. Besides, reducing the number and frequency of change in one’s life is not necessarily a bad thing. I think the best way to prevent losing ground and to follow Mick’s advice to keep moving forward is to always seek to learn new things. Learning is invigorating and renewing. And contrary to conventional wisdom, learning is ageless, barring disease.

Finding a new, but probably last, church home is the next to the last step for us. The decision incorporates all the lessons learned about Christian life and relationships. Therefore, it is the most important last. It’s also a last thing that isn’t really last. The decision has eternal significance. The Apostle Paul wrote in Thessalonians to "forget about what lies behind and to press on to the high calling in Christ Jesus". Jesus is the Beginning and the End. A life in Him really has no truly last things. For with eternal life there is no last, only next.

So until the next time, stay away from back-to-back all night parties and then giving concerts the next day. For – “This could be the last time, this could be the last time, maybe the last time I don’t know…”

Footnote - No surprise that Scorsese and The Rolling Stones have teamed up for a new IMAX concert movie to be called "The Light".

Christmas Cards

One of my favorite parts of the Christmas season is Christmas cards. I love getting them and I love sending them. I enjoy and appreciate the creativity that people demonstrate in the type of card they choose, the artwork, and the message. But what I especially enjoy is when someone has taken the time to write a personal note, newsy or otherwise. I even like the infamous Christmas letters as long as there is an inserted personal note at some point.

Just for grins, I looked up Christmas card etiquette at that "Hallmark" (no pun intended) of internet intellectualism known as Wikipedia. Surprisingly, there are not very many rules of thumb. The consensus is that Christmas cards should be hand-addressed and personally signed with some kind of personal note - short, long or otherwise. A well-accepted standard is including some kind of picture - either of the entire family, or perhaps the children. This has given rise to the all-inclusive picture Christmas card.

The history of Christmas cards is actually not very long. In an effort to sell more stamps, the first commercial Christmas card (pictured) occurred in Britain in the 1800s, and from the start, Christmas cards have been somewhat controversial. The first card, as you can see, depicts a merry family made even more merry by enjoying a little wine. This caused a little bit of whining by the general public. Other controversies have been caused by not paying heed to peoples' religious persuasions by sending a deeply secular family a strongly evangelistic card. Now Christmas cards have entered the electronic age and e-cards have reduced the number of mailed cards received over the last ten years to an average of 20 cards per family from 24.

The last part of Christmas cards that I enjoy is at the end of the season taking them all down from their prominent display perches and reading back through them. Occasionally we'll get a card from someone that we've omitted and it's always good to follow up on their effort to stay connected.

So for all of you that blessed our temporary Texas abode with a card this year, we offer our heartfelt appreciation and look forward to this time-honored tradition again next year.

An Enigma Wrapped in a Mystery – Happy Birthday, Rich

Starting with Dennis’ birthday this year, I felt compelled to share a few thoughts about each of my siblings as they approach their birthday. Since we celebrate Rich’s birthday on the 13th, these are the things that readily come to mind about this quiet brother of mine. I know that Rich is my brother for three simple reasons: first, he has a bad back and suffers through each day; second, he loves music; and finally, he shares my penchant for hats of various makes and models!

When we were in our teens our family took a camping trip to the Yosemite Valley. I have many memories of camping near the Merced River and setting out each day on some new adventure. Early one morning, Rich and I took off together on a hike up the face of a cliff that overlooked the valley below. This same cliff was used for the “Firefall” of burning logs that has long been stopped. Some ways up the trail we stopped and took a much needed shower in a waterfall that crossed our path. A little later, we stopped to take some pictures of the incredible vista that opened up below. One picture had Rich in the foreground and the valley floor several hundred feet below in the background. The picture had that early morning haze that somewhat obscured Rich’s face. It was one of my most favorite pictures that somehow has been misplaced. I’ve looked everywhere for it and at the same time I’ve looked for a clearer picture of Rich as he remains somewhat of a mystery to me, just as if I’m waiting for that early morning haze to clear up in a long ago picture.

In the present day, you can’t help think of Rich without thinking of his children and his music. His lifelong devotion to his children has been the most dominant characteristic in my mind. I’m sure at times it seems his devotion is almost fanatic in nature, but no one can question that he wants the very best in life for his kids. With respect to his music, the most notable thing is the recent completion of his degree. It’s not so important what ultimately might come of the degree. To me, the most important thing is that he put his hand to a very difficult task, overcame many obstacles, and completed what he had started. To honorably finish what we start in life is an admirable quality.

Another characteristic that I recall, especially from our youth, is how excited and appreciative Rich always was in receiving even the smallest of gifts. I remember coming home from college with a few mementos and gifts. He was always so appreciative of whatever he received. As an adult, he has become a very creative gift-giver himself, putting a lot of thought and originality into whatever he brings to a family gathering. For some reason, I remember the decorated bucket of fresh sweet corn on the cob he brought to a 4th of July party at our house.

There are still many things about him that remain a mystery to me. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because he had the unique distinction of being both the youngest child and then the middle child, with all the birth order angst that these positions sometimes bring. Also because he’s so quiet, it’s very difficult to know what he’s thinking or how he views the world. On a few occasions, our world views have clashed, putting us briefly at odds with each other. I did my best to clear the air before our Texas departure and I hope he feels the same way.

One of our sisters, who shall remain unnamed, asked me one day how our family could become closer. I didn’t have a good answer for her at the time because I felt we were reasonably close, given all the difficulties of life. After giving it greater thought, I think one of the ways to get closer is to either express hurts and perceived injustices or to truly forgive them and move on. But the second part of drawing closer requires mutual communication, which takes both time and effort to move a relationship closer. I desire to be closer to Rich, but I’m not sure what path described above I should take. But I would encourage Rich to choose a path as well. A birthday is a good milestone for taking new directions. My birthday wish for Rich is for less suffering in silence and for more communication. I sincerely wish him health and happiness and the fulfillment of the desires of his heart.

My last memory is of a special time in our life together was when we wound up for a short season playing together on a church softball team. I forgot to mention Rich’s love and ability for this pastime. I think our backs have brought an end to our stellar athletic endeavors, but for a time I enjoyed having this in common with him. As time goes forward, I hope that we can find another common pursuit that’s not so hard on our backs.

Until then, I love you and Happy Birthday!

When Dave Was Sky High

I suppose at some point it makes sense for Sky "High" Dave to talk about the sky and my love of having my head in the clouds. Like most young boys, I loved to build plastic models. My favorites were battleships, because they had so many guns and the gun turrets would actually move, and propeller driven military aircraft, especially those with retractable landing gear. Most of my paper route earnings would go toward the newest and most intricate model. I'm not sure why I chose the Army over the Air Force or Navy, other than that it was a great opportunity at the time.

As an adult, I often daydreamed about learning to fly. I was attracted to the adventure of it all, but a little apprehensive about learning such things as stalls and emergency procedures. The average human being is not at all attracted to a pastime that couples two of man's greatest fears - falling and being burnt up, only with flying they could happen at the same time. But the expense of it all as well as life's demands on a young husband and father commanded my full attention. However, the daydreams continued. But daydreams can be better than experiences, sometimes because you can create a fantasy that neatly omits all the difficulty.

But when I turned 40, some things happened that opened the door. I found myself in a consulting role that provided both excess income and excess time. Flying can suck up both. So as I rounded the corner of my fourth decade of existence, I decided to either do it or stop living in a fantasy of "someday". What sealed it was an introductory flight that demonstrated that certain things were not necessarily going to be as difficult as I thought. And I found an instructor more my age. Most were half my age and that was a little rough.

I was able to get my private, single engine, airman's certificate after an average amount of instruction and solo flight. Because of my military background, communications and navigation came pretty easily. My instructor was great about teaching me to control the aircraft, but you have to teach yourself how to land, pretty much. They say the instructor is along on the landings to keep things safe and to keep you from hurting the aircraft. But you have to get a feel for it yourself. This was my greatest challenge and took the longest to learn. There is a big difference between a really precise landing and a safe landing. I learned to make safe landings, but it takes a lifetime to make perfect landings.

I also learned that there are born pilots and mechanical pilots. Born pilots have an innate ability to fly well. They possess tremendous hand-to-eye coordination, unique spacial awareness, uncanny depth perception, and, each step comes naturally. Mechanical pilots learn the ropes and can fly safely, but they have to work at it more and are never as comfortable in the air. I was a mechanical pilot. It may also have something to do with when in life you learn to fly. The earlier the better. As you get older, your sense of mortality is more acute.

I loved to fly. I loved everything about it. I could read about it endlessly. I loved every phase from flight planning to continued training. It is the only avocation I'd found so far that fully occupied my body and mind and was truly recreational. Not to say that I didn't have some serious down moments, the worst being running off the runway with 4/5 of my family on board (0 injuries, other than ego) and becoming disoriented in the clouds which required a serious recovery.

But the highs were really high. Most notably were; my first solo cross country flight, a final requirement before your federal check ride, as well as flying to such places as Seattle (the prettiest) and Las Cruses (the farthest). The highs continued with the eventual ownership of a small plane and ultimately obtaining an instrument rating. This rating made me a much more precise flyer and gave me permission to fly "in the system" along with all commercial aircraft. I have always loved learning new things. Now I had discovered a whole new world within a world and it was exhilarating.

But the cliche of "all good things must come to an end" has to have a ring of truth or it wouldn't be a cliche. A bad back, coupled with medication that disqualifies one from flying put an end to things much sooner than I had hoped. I will confess that there are some things I don't miss. The expense of it all was ridiculous. Everything from aviation fuel to repair parts cost many times over what a sane human should pay for them. And there was always something to tend to on the plane, leaks, radios, tires, inspections, etc. Oddly, I even had a difficult time finding passengers. Again, I think it's that falling/burning thing.

Rather than dwell on a lost opportunity, I add in both reality of what I didn't like about flying, along with gratitude that I was able to do something that many people never have the opportunity to do. And Karen was incredibly supportive of it all. Now the challenge is to find an appropriate avocational substitute. Whatever it is, it has to involve lots of knobs and dials.

SkyHiDave

Brad Pitt, the Prophet

I don't read about celebrities very much, but a recent article in Parade magazine highlighted the current life and times of Brad Pitt. I do think he is a great actor. He has an unfair advantage though because he has a big head, anatomically I mean. Just look at it sometime along with the head sizes of many famous actors. Perhaps a big head is needed to hold the big head they get from all the attention. The head first begins to grow with fame, then really swells when people seek an actor's life philosophy, just because they are famous.

Anyway, if a magazine article's title is intriguing enough, I might proceed to the next level of interest - reading the captions over any pictures the article might include. The article's pictures are what reminded me of his head. In addition to the pictures, The Parade article had a section about Brad Pitt's spiritual journey.

Pitt said he had attended a Christian church and had a sincere emotional experience. Some time later, he was attending a concert and realized that the music produced the same emotions he had felt in church. This disappointed him because he thought he had a unique religious experience. Now he was confused. Was the church experience divine or relegated to just evoking intense, but real humans emotions? He stopped short of reconciling the conflict and moved on.

I think many of us have had similar experiences. This is why what we are feeling is not a good litmus test to determine if we are listing to Memorex or to just a copy. So if we can't rely on our feelings, what can we rely on if we are diligent pursuers of the truth?

I think we have to look entirely at what Jesus said, apart from what we are feeling or experiencing around us. Jesus claimed to be "The Truth" and validated His claim by doing exactly what He said he would do - die and then rise again. Jesus is trustworthy and we are not. Emotions are a good thing and can enhance our experiences. But emotions are an unreliable determiner of the truth.

I hope Brad Pitt doesn't totally give up on his search. Jesus said He rewards seekers of truth and will protect them from deception. The only thing He won't interfere with is self-deception. Cling to, trust in, and rely upon what He says and don't fool yourself.

Then you can truly enjoy the music.

Painting Another's Painting

Sorry, that's the best title I could think of. Email your suggestion after reading the blog if you dare!?

Designing your own home and then watching someone else build it makes me ponder what it might be like being a playwright. You have just written this entirely unique and deeply personal play. Yet, the public will never see your work-product unless you relinquish control of the script into the hands of others. You must find a good builder (or director) and the director and others assemble and guide the cast (subcontractors and laborers).

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As you sit there at rehearsals, you hope and pray that the trustees of your creation interpret your vision as close to what you had in mind as humanly possible. It is very exciting when they finally sense your vision and not only adhere to the script but also insert their own personality in a synergistic way. The collaboration results in much better critical acclaim than if they were merely reciters.

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Dave Matthews, founder and leader of the Dave Matthew's Band (that's original), once said in an interview that he lets each musician in his band play their individual instrument any way they want. They can come in and out at will, improvise and be creative in their area of expertise. They only thing they have to adhere to strictly is the lyrics. That gave way to individual expression and allowed great musicality and freedom of expression. But the meaning of the piece was not lost in the chaos if they stuck to the words. How does this relate to home building? Not very well I guess, I just wanted you to know that I liked his band.

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All through his career, Alfred Hitchcock, the acclaimed director, required strict adherence to the script even though the actors could use whatever method they wanted to get the lines out. He remained this way right up to perhaps his last movie (maybe I'll remember the name by the end of the blog). In his last film, he allowed a great deal (a lot) of ad libbing. The end result, in my opinion, was like a long running inside joke where the actors were almost winking at the camera and each other. As a result, the strong story line suffered.

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So at what point does the home builder/playwright insist upon strict adherence to the script/plans (do rhetorical question sentences need a question mark?)? The point when you look down the road and realize that you will really regret it if you don't interrupt the rehearsal and try to get the painters you have hired back on track in painting your own portrait.

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The point is, it's fun seeing your creation come to life but a little scary too. After all, they will sign their painting with your name and then send you the bill.

None but the Brave

When we think of the word bravery, the most common mental depiction is associated with the kind of action that results in the award of a medal or a public citation of some kind. This is not the kind of bravery I plan to discuss here. Rest assured that I am not talking about myself, but rather, a state of mind that I really want to achieve. I can write about bravery because I have role models, you can't hurt me physically, and, it's my blog anyway.

Medal bravery is that unconscious, spontaneous response to a severe situation in which an ordinary person performs extraordinarily, often at great personal risk, for the life saving benefit of others. The act is even more significant when performed by a layman just going through life when, all of a sudden, he is caught up in great tragedy. Quite often when these people are lauded for their acts of bravely, they accept the recognition with modesty, even a little guilt, because they didn't really think about it, they just acted.

The bravery I am talking about is the kind where you have to think about things and then act. This is a very different character trait, and the one I most admire. Let me 'splane, and I'll use small words.

Virtually no one's life turns out how they expect it to. I'm not sure where we get the picture of what our life is supposed to look like, but I've never heard anyone say, "What a life, it's exactly as I pictured it!" The most unexpected and least wanted turn of events is when injury and chronic pain come into your life, physical or mental, and often times both. The bravery I really admire is where people have to think about the day and times ahead and can visualize the difficulty. However, they bravely face the future and are role models of about every spiritual fruit I can recite.

These people, if they're brave, know tomorrow it's going to hurt, yet they face it anyway. Day after day, step after step is taken, knowing that things may never be better for them, yet they find a way to live an exemplary life. Maybe some of the bravery is muted by simply not trying to get ahead of themselves. Jesus tells us not to fret about tomorrow, it's tough enough today. Maybe no one can withstand the agony of mentally running through every possible scenario and still being able to function. But even if they have a glimpse of the potential difficulty, they act nobly, and this takes guts in my opinion.

These people should be given a medal. They are my heroes.

"O perfect life, be Thou their full assurance of tender charity and steadfast faith, of patient hope, and quite, brave endurance, with child-like trust that fears nor pain nor death."

From the Hymn "O Perfect Love" - Dorothy Gurney 1932