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In the past three days I have been on the road for a total of ten driving hours. For professional drivers that’s nothing. But, for a guy like me, it’s bizarre.
Today I’m sore in places that I didn’t even know that I had nerve endings. Flying by plane just isn’t cost-effective. Afterall, once you get someplace by plane, how are you going to get around?
Necessity and a busy schedule jammed several appointments into a small window of time. I am not a road warrior. In fact I would rather not drive if other options were available.
But, as the old saying goes, “You gotta do what you gotta do.” That is some sort of Chinese saying, I’m sure. We who are committed to our promises keep them and do whatever it takes to fulfill them.
For me the driving was a simply a means to a great end. Getting there was an opportunity to do what builds integrity, keeping my word. Neither circumstances nor opposition will prevent me from making good on my promises.
But, no one ever said that the journey has to be boring or painful. Resourceful minds can make the drudgery of driving a pleasant experience. For me one of the creative additions is music.
My rig is equipped with satellite radio, a 6 CD player, external port for an iPod. We have a long list of favorite songs that we have purchased on i-tunes. My Country with my brides’ Pop makes for a splendid combination.
But, for this special time of the year, it’s Christmas music that we line up in our sound system to float the hours of travel away. Carried in the air of snow, tinsel and family we sing-a-long with classic favorites. Some are funny like “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus” that is always a smile endorser.
Of course there are moving ones like “Christmas Shoes” that I posted a few days back. But, our most favorite Christmas songs of all tell the real story of Christmas, the birth of our Savior, Jesus born in a manger. That story gives real meaning to the celebration around the world.
I have my favorite artists from years-gone-by as well as modern composers and musicians. But, the ancient story is the true story and never gets old. Christmas is my favorite time of the year and the genuine story makes it so. Merry Christmas!
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
My bicycle route was now in the return mode. I had passed the half-way point and turned my wheels toward home. The steady turn brought me across four lanes of traffic during an ideal time when there were no vehicles any where in sight.
Then, my eyes caught an unusual sight. The last time I rode this route, just a few days ago, did not have these landscape highlights. My pedals stopped rotating.
I glided to a halt and smiled. It was time to dismount and check out this sight. A grin broke out on my countenance and thoughts of Fantasia played through my memory.
Dancing mushrooms to Asian music long live in my mind. On the Disney silver screen that image highlights the surges of a classical musical and animated masterpiece. Now, these wild mushrooms brought back those favored moments.
The shape of these little guys stood out on the lawns of my neighborhood. While green grass spread out for thousands of square feet, a few fast growing mushroom are a striking contrast with their stunning bright white caps spread out. Each one is textured with soft skins speckled with decorative brown spots. Almost like a lightly barbequed marshmellow, these fungi make most people look who drive by.
The caps of these shrooms have come full spread. Underneath, the gills have opened up and spores are being released. Another generation of these fast growing, suddenly-appearing unique life-forms will appear in the future.
These subjects for my cellphone camera were cooperative. They did not move nor did they wave or flutter in the morning breeze. But, they live very low to the ground.
Modestly, they hold their skirts low on the lawn. Nothing underneath these mushrooms was visible to my lens. I took as low a posture as was physically possible but there was no new perspective to be gained.
I stowed my camera and mounted my bicycle. Pushing off and gaining ground toward home, my memories remained fresh. There is something special about the world of God’s creation around us.
He is the Master creator. There is variety in His design. Beauty in the greenery of man-manicured lanscape bends to the emerging of fungi, carried by the windborne spores.
It is a domesticated world in the suburbs. But, a twinge of wild unscripted growth still finds its way into the neighborhood. Gentle, cute, fun are words that surround these tiny forms of life.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
My internet search took place over several months. It’s one of those “tuck it into the back pocket of your mind” sort of moments. This would be a great present for my bride.
A friend wanted to play a song for us that he just recently discovered. He pulled out his I-pod and also pulled out some portable speakers. The speakers grabbed my wife’s attention. They were panda bear speakers!
My wife’s favorite animal is the cuddly and easily recognizable Panda Bear. Her girlfriends nicknamed her Panda too. She has a lot of panda stuff around the house. This was one that she did not have in her collection. That’s when it popped into my mind to start looking.
A number of forays into the World Wide Web uncovered a number of sites to bring a special gift home. There are so many options, but one little guy kept popping up in my mind. I placed my order and eagerly waited for it to show up.
Proudly, excitedly and cheerily I presented the unopened box to my bride on her special day. She carefully cut open the box. We both broke out in smiles! It is adorable!
But that wasn’t the end. I sent her a list of three restaurants from which to choose for our two-some party. Her choices were steak, seafood or Italian. She chose seafood; it was a great choice.
Our meal started off with Oysters Rockefeller. Wow! They were delicious! We ate them slowly in order to savor the stunning flavors
Next, her Flounder came. It was a fresh catch of the day. Here by the Gulf of Mexico, this is a delicacy of major proportions.
This fish melted in your mouth. The topping enhanced the sweet flavor and gentle texture. It’s about the best Flounder I have ever had.
What? Yes, it was her dish. Pardon? No, I did not snitch her meal for myself. She offered it to me and I gladly accepted!
Our meal for this celebration was brand new to us. We discovered it on Yelp.com. The recommendations were very high and we concur!
Babin’s Seafood Restaurant in Katy, TX gets our two thumbs up. It was a splendid atmosphere for a landmark celebration. The two of us thoroughly enjoyed our visit.
Service was excellent. The selections on the menu were plentiful. But, of course the final test was in the eating and we did so with great delight! Happy Birthday, Panda!
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
Everyone has their personal taste for music. The genres are as varied as human tastes. Some are purists and others are eclectic.
I have tried so many kinds of music. Over my growing many years on this earth, I have tasted pop, rock, classical, easy listening, jazz and broadway. Nothing really sticks for any length of time.
But, years ago I suddenly realized that I could understand what Country artists were singing. It made me think about the story as well as enjoy the melody lines. Before I knew it, Country was always playing on my radio and iPod.
Then, I moved to California. Here in San Francisco new acquaintances told me about the local Country radio station. I tuned in and enjoyed several months of my favorite kind of tunes and artists.
But sadly, the radio station turned its genre from Country music to sports talk. I was bewildered. Did we really need another sports talk radio station in the Bay Area?
For the next few months I tried to connect with my iPod. But my limited song selections eventually left me frustrated. I resorted to searching for secondary genres on my radio.
Sometimes jazz kept me interested. Once in a while classical attracted me. Light rock sometimes occupied my attention.
Then, someone suggested that I try internet radio. That was a challenge. I’m not too tech savvy.
Promptly I forgot about the suggestion. My busy life pushed that passing idea off to the perimeter of my mind.
But, then months later the idea reemerged for no particular reason. I did a brief search and was surprised how easily it was find a website for free radio. Quickly my eyes raced down the list of genre options.
Presto! There it was in its proper place in the alphabetical listing: Country. I clicked on the label and up popped the Country panel. It invited me to click the arrow to listen.
I moved my cursor to the right place. Then a swift click with my index finger and the familiar tunes, lyrics that were easy to understand, stories of real life, tunes that made me smile emerged clearly from my computer. I was happy, elated, joyful again!
What a discovery! It’s playing now as I write. All day it was on during my work day in my office. Old friends from Brad Paisley, Reba, Kenny Chesney, Taylor Swift and so many others are getting acquainted with my routine again. Welcome back, Country!
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On my day off I decided to commit myself to accomplishing something productive. After all, I knew that if I wanted to play in the evening I would feel so much better if I had done something useful during the day. I took a deep breath and entered into my office.
With Christmas music on to while away the project, I slid open my closet doors. They slid easily on their tracks and unveiled what I love to ignore for weeks on end. Piles of boxes of TBCL: to be considered later.
Two boxes with a volume of 1.5 cubit feet were heavy. They were solid inside with content. There was nothing soft about the treasures that were hidden away.
I opened each to find what I knew I had to sort, toss or use. These have a track record of my life’s history. It was boxes of a my music.
Scores and scores of CD’s. Music from favored artists: Steve Green, Garth Brooks, Crystal Gayle, Point of Grace, 4 Him, The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, James Taylor, Michael J. Smith, Manheim Steamroller, Shania Twain, Van Morrison, David Meece, Steven Curtis Chapman, Promise Keepers, Avery Stafford, Johnny Cash, Scott Wesley Brown, Canadian Brass, Chuck Mangione, Wayne Watson, DC Talk and many more. Can you see my varied taste?
I had to figure out a way to put these all in digital form. My i-touch could hold them. But, I have to figure out how to load them.
Once these are digitally stored I can donate the CD’s to the Salvation Army. That’ll clear my room of several boxes. Moving around my office will be much more effiecient too.
At first I thought that I would count all of my CD’s and add up how much money I have spent on them over the years. But, when I got up to the price of new motorcycle I decided that this was a very bad idea. Furthermore, great music is never about the money.
Years of tranquility and meditation are represented in these discs. Fun times of joy and celebration are a deeply embedded in them as well. How many times have we slipped away into a world of friendliness and cheer just by putting on our earphones and cranked up the volume?
At the same time it’s not the plastic discs that are the memories. It is the music. If I can store the same music in a miniature i-touch and free up living space, how sweet is that?
photo credit: google image
A good friend sent me a recommendation. That’s uncommon but usual in this modern-day of social networking. Pictures, videos, ideas, conversations and advice are regularly fed to all of us.
There is a ton of stuff that is very good. Sharing great information makes life full and keeps us all up-to-date on the happenings, news and alerts that are worth our attention. Then, there are a few standouts. Here’s one that is one of those.
Check out the song “Where’s the line to see Jesus”. It is special. Here’s the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=OExXItDyWEY&vq=medium
Becky’s 4-year-old nephew, Spencer, was out shopping with his family. He saw the long lines of children waiting to see Santa Claus. Very naturally, he asked his mom, “Where’s the line to see Jesus?”
It was one of those memorable moments. Becky’s sister mentioned this to her father which launched an immediate inspiration. He jotted the words down, composed music and shared it with family, friends and Nashville.
The song has moved many. When I was introduced to it this year, I was in the middle of studying Isaiah 40.5 for an upcoming sermon. My thoughts were already on the focus of Jesus who came not just as a baby but as our Savior.
We need a Savior. Our sin has us in a predicament that has no solution. We are lost for all eternity and we need to be rescued.
Jesus came not to give us an addition to a holiday. Nor did He come to be another reason for a celebration. Rather, He came to give us hope for eternity with the stunning forgiveness of sin and a new life that is forever redeemed.
Sin has been wiped out. That is how amazing His grace is for everyone who believes in Him. People don’t forgive, nor do they forget.
God, our Father in heaven, not only forgives through His Son Jesus Christ, He also declares that Jesus’ redemption for us more than takes care of our sins. That’s a reason to celebrate. It is a wonder that lasts longer than a party, open gifts or a credit card payment plan.
Jesus made it possible for us to never despair again. His gracious mercy has embraced any and all to come to Him by faith and enjoy being clean again. This is the kind of hope that will never end. Join me and get in line (it’s short) to thank Jesus for His great gift of hope to us.
photo credit: google image
A good friend included me on an email notice. Raul Midon was coming to town. He was on the concert ticket at Yoshi’s in San Francisco.
This would take a little explanation. I never heard of this artist. But, that isn’t a testament to Midon’s lack of notoriety. Rather it is a revelation that I don’t know jazz.
My friend sent me a short explanation. I was intrigued. Mostly, however, I greatly respect my friends musical talent. He would not give me a recommendation for a night of music if it wasn’t going to be special. I was very very pleased.
Midon is a one-man band. That doesn’t just mean that he does a solo act without accompaniment. It is true that he is on stage without any other supporting musicians. However, the moniker of being a one-man band hints at his versatility and expansive talent.
In his musical presentation he not only plays amazing guitar he also adds brass support, percussion and bass lines all while singing with a soulful velvet voice. During my introduction to Midon I not only thoroughly enjoyed the concert, I kept cocking my head with the reaction, “How’s he doing that?”
Several times during the concert I closed my eyes and imagined what I would be seeing if I didn’t know that this was a single artist on stage. A small ensemble made more sense to my ears than what my eyes told me was happening in my very presence. How can one man add layers of sound and mix those sounds all by himself. It was remarkable.
Midon is a self-proclaimed genre bender. I liked that. There was so much story in his lyrics that I easily tracked with the episodes in life that he was painting for us. I’m not musical purist. So I am attracted to something enjoyable that is also something easy to relate to.
Oh, by the way. Midon is blind. He has been from birth. As a premature child he was a victim of the early light treatment that caused his blindness.
Yet, with this handicap he clearly has a winsome personality. He is positive about life. Humor is a feature in his concert that gives him a great appeal.
Overcoming adversity and demonstrating amazing impact on others is truly commendable. So, the soul inside of me clapped in syncopated rhythm with Midon’s music. My bride and I were transported into one of God’s greatest gifts to His creation, the world of rapturous music.
photo credit: google image
In all of life there are repeated simplicities that have lasting value. One of those basic truths is that the pursuit of a humility is well worth all of the effort required to obtain it. It takes a lifetime but the satisfaction is constant.
Over the years I have been straining to obtain this measure of life. Both during the good times and the bad times, the chase for humility is constantly on my mind. One of the clues left to me by others is that we can gain ground on this elusive treasure by being a student throughout our lives.
When we are constantly learning there is an openness in our spirit. We submit our lives to others and we grow in knowledge and our spirit is left realizing how much it does not know. It has been my habit throughout life to regularly put myself in a learning mode.
During the beginning of my professional career I took piano lessons as an adult. Some of my fellow classmates who excelled beyond my skills were younger than my own children. But, I loved learning.
When my children were young adolescents they were all learning martial arts. I joined in with gusto. It was fun even while I was applying my sore muscle ointments.
I took a class on how to play soccer. Most of the collegians were faster, had far more endurance than me but I learned. To this day I appreciate that sport.
Then, I took a class on volleyball. Most of the other collegians in the class weren’t there to learn. They obviously already knew how to play and play well. Others helped the “old guy” and I learned. It was certainly humbling on many occasions but I did learn a lot.
Photography is an art form. Others have made an honest living at it. My fascination of it has put me in a learning mode. I read, ask, listen and watch. For sure I am learning.
Each week I pour hours and hours into studying a passage of Scripture so that I understand it. Then, I shape a sermon, give it life and freshness. There is never a time when I am NOT learning more and more about what God is saying to us.
An excruciating pain comes from letting truth fillet your spirit. But, out of that extraordinary pain comes amazing discovery. Nevertheless, I learn.
photo credit: google image
The McCormick Conference Center in Chicago is a good hike from O’Hare airport. Our plane was scheduled for take off at 2:20PM. It would be tight as we planned our schedule for the day.
We watched the clock. The speaker was not done. But, we had to leave in time to catch a cab and plan for the unpredictable Chicago traffic.
Both of us wanted to stay. The speaker was fabulous. But, who wants to miss their flight home?
Outside of the conference center, a long line of cabs waited for a fare. We hopped into the next one in line. Everything was going smoothly until we merged on to the highway.
It’s like jumping into a swimming pool full of sludge. We made our way up the acceleration ramp by slowing down. Traffic was jammed up. Fabulous conversation kept us distracted. Still time marched on and the fare kept climbing.
Once at ORD we checked the departure board. Our flight to SFO from ORD flashed on the screen. The departure time was different from our memory.
Our flight was delayed by 25 minutes. Hopefully, it would be the only reschedule for our trip home. When I see a delayed or rescheduled flight my heart sinks. I want to go home!
At least we had time for lunch. We paraded past all of the fast food offerings. None of us opted for any of the national chains.
Instead, we stopped in at Wolfgang-Puck’s. There I scanned over the menu. I selected a spinach salad with goat cheese, beets and pecans. It was refreshing and delicious.
Once on the plane I was relieved that there were no other delays. The plane was packed and of course our seats were jammed, tight quarters and with few options to vary my sitting position.
I was ready for the long 4+ hour journey. My Kindle was in hand. It was loaded with great books to read.
Also, my I-pod was fully charged and filled with music. Good ear phones dulled the sounds of the jet engines. Nothing like personally chosen cool sounds to soothingly pass the time.
Just to get some variety in my distractions, I picked up a snack for the journey. It was a vegetable tray with ranch dressing. The food was gone, the music played through a round and I knocked off a lot of pages of my reading to get done. Hey, I’m home!
photo credit: google image
For most of my Saturday I was busy with errands, studying and enjoying Yvonne’s company. This Saturday, however, I had an eye on the clock. At 7PM I was signed up for a Bassist Clinic held at our church.
It’s a new thing for me. Playing bass guitar is not a strength of mine. But, I know how important this instrument is to worship.
Every ensemble builds on the foundation that the bassist lays. That instrument interfaces with the drummer, lending tone to the rhythm of the percussionist. Their tag team music gives the band the structure to establish a link.
So, I was curious to sit in on the clinic taught by Norm Stockton. He is a professional bassist playing with major worship groups, sponsored by major labels and music sponsors. We are blessed at Sunset Church to have a connection with him through our Worship Director, Claura.
My life doesn’t cross roads with this world of worship and music from the performance level. I value this talent pool as much as any, but I don’t share that talent with them. If I could take a pill to enable me to be one of them, I would do so without hesitation.
Through a very stormy night I made my way to our CE auditorium. A gathering of musicians took their seats. I enjoyed meeting a number of new people.
The clock struck 7PM and the clinic began. Norm introduced himself, won a friendly rapport with us in the audience, then, substantiated his skills with a solo bass piece that left me with my mouth open. It was stunning!
I didn’t if I should gaze at his left hand dancing among the frets of the neck or stare at his right hand thumping, plucking, slapping or picking at the five strings on his 535 bass guitar. What we as an audience of worshippers usually “feel” during meaningful praise is what we were treated to hear unfettered on Saturday night. It left me smiling, deeply curious and thoughtfully contemplative.
After the clinic, I met Norm in person. He was ver approachable, whimsical, thoughtful, fun, cheerful and sensitive to the things of God. We had a delightful first meeting.
Over the next months I’ll get to know him better. I will connect with him on FB and Twitter. But, even more I’ll hear the sounds and rumble from his CD that is now mine.
photo credit: google image
