Why Do I Love Montana?

We Are All Musicians

Posted by C.J.

I’m not usually one to post videos, but how could I pass this by? How cool.

They Don’t Live Here Anymore: Reflections on Home Staging

Posted by C.J.

My car is loaded up with a toaster, clothes, a boombox, an under-the-cabinet stereo, a laptop computer, yard games, and a number of garbage bags with unknown contents. Why? We’re trying to sell our home.

I forgot to move the tea kettle for this picture. It's gone now, though.

In order for someone to buy a home nowadays, you have to make it look like no one lives there. There should never be smudges on the hardwood floor, laundry in the laundry room, equipment or kids toys in the garage, trash in waste receptacles, appliances on counters, or paper on desks. Food in the pantry and clothes in closets should be limited to essentials so it appears that there is an abundance of storage space. But there should always be fresh flowers on the coffee table, a mound of green apples in the bowl on the kitchen table, and the aroma of scented candles in the air.

I could blame this seller’s nightmare on the economy and the buyers’ market. If we’re going to compete with other sellers in our neighborhood, including foreclosures and short sales, and the glut of new homes available in Madison, we have to make our house seem nearly perfect. Yet somehow focusing on the economy doesn’t seem quite right. It’s too complex. It brings in all kinds of larger issues, like shady lending practices of banks and bad city planning.

I need something easier.

I know…shows like The Stagers and Curb Appeal set the expectations of buyers way too high. I’ll blame HGTV.

Deeper Dimensions: Seeing Through the Eyes of a Child

Posted by C.J.

In his book Look Me in the Eye, John Elder Robison hypothesizes that as a person with Asberger’s syndrome, he has shifted his abilities from one area to another in order to adapt to the world’s expectations of him. As a child and young adult, he had an inordinate ability with machines and electrical equipment, but was lower functioning in social situations. As he grew older and improved socially, even to the point that he delivers keynote addresses at large conferences, he lost some of his mechanical ability. He does not lament the loss, but accepts it as a fair trade off. I believe that most adults experience a similar swap. As we mature and accept the challenges and responsibilities of adulthood, we give up the unique perspective of childhood. Nevertheless, we can regain some of what we used to see, but only if we listen to our children. 

Case in point–on July 3, the whole family went to see the fireworks at Elver Park. Although we’ve seen the fireworks from a distance–across the street from the park in the yard of the Lutheran church or from the top of the hill in our neighborhood–we’ve never attending the display at the park itself. It was the first time the kids had seen fireworks close-up.

May, even though she’s now 11-years old, sat on my lap for nearly the entire show and we shared with each other which of the pyrotechnics we liked best. 

“Look at that one, Daddy. It looks like a horse’s tail.”

“I like the ones that crackle.” 

“I’ve never seen a blue firework before. It’s pretty neat, but I like the red ones better.”

About ten minutes in, May pointed out that if you look closely, you can see the smoke trails of earlier fireworks in the light of the new ones that are exploding. Hiding in the shadows of the night were smokey squids and spiders, cascading waterfalls, and the petals of daisies–a reality that I’d never seen. I’ve always been too absorbed by the obvious to notice the subtle. There is a whole new dimension, a depth, to fireworks displays that I’ve missed for the first 40 years of my life. 

I wonder what else I’ve missed. If I listen, I’m sure my kids will tell me.

Author’s note: I tried to find an image on line of the smoke trails left behind by fireworks, but there is nothing that even slightly resembles the depth and mysterious beauty of the trails May and I watched. That seems right. Phantom squid should never be captured on film (or pixels).

Revisiting the Blog

Posted by C.J.

I’ve not posted to Rarely Clever in about five months, and my posts prior to February were few and far between. The motivation just wasn’t there–too many things on my mind.  Now, I think it’s time to write again.

Some Marketing Doesn’t Need a Tagline

Posted by C.J.

I lifted this photo from the AFP. What are they really trying to say?

You’d think reality would already have set in. Politician ≠ Saint.

An O-pun Letter to Ms. Christy Lemire, AP Film Critic

Posted by C.J.

Dear Ms. Lemire:

In your short review of Hotel for Dogs last week, you included the following:

“It’s not that director Thor Freudenthal’s film sits up on its hind legs and shamelessly begs for approval; on the contrary, it performs a few tricks, then rolls over on its back and plays dead. (Sorry, had to go there, the metaphor was irresistible.)”

Always remember and never feghoot, there’s no reason to apologize, Ms. Lemire. There’s no shame in puns or humorous metaphors, and don’t let your friends and family try to tell you otherwise. In spite of their groans and protests, deep down they know they are just jealous of your ability to dance among homonyms and identify with idioms.

Be brave. Stand strong. The pun is mightier than the word.

Sincerely,

C.J.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something’s Awry With Those Fish

Posted by C.J.

Right off, let me say that I am not a Jesus-fisher. I would never put a Jesus fish or any other Jesus-people bumper sticker on my car, mainly because I occasionally speed (honest), roll through a stop sign (truly), or stick my head out my sunroof to yell maniacally at the guy who’s driving 45 mph in the passing lane (no, only joking). Why would I give someone the opportunity to say something like, “Hey, look at that jackass rolling through a stop sign.  Oh it figures, it’s one of those Jesus-fish freaks”?

That said, I can’t quite get my arms around why politically-correct, multi-culturally minded, let’s-all-get-along-ish people think it’s perfectly okay to mock the Jesus fish. Folks that would never think of making fun of the Star of David or the star and crescent of Islam don’t think twice about tacking a Darwin fish on their car.

Why is that? It doesn’t stop there, though. Bumper stickers like

have become commonplace and broadly accepted as well.

Keep in mind that I don’t have a martyr complex and I’m not feeling discriminated against. (I’m a well-educated, white male in America, for goodness sakes.) I just don’t understand how folks can decorate their vehicles with mocking and hateful stickers, chock it up to humor, and everyone seems to be okay with it. Something’s not quite right.

Am I wrong?

Atheist Bus Ads? What Do You Think?

Posted by C.J.

I’d like to hear your thoughts on this article.

An Unfortunate Marriage

Posted by C.J.

On a recent visit to the Family Christian Store, I began to wonder why Christians allow themselves to be swept up into popular culture and embrace mediocrity. How is it that the rich tradition of a faith that inspired

 and

 and

 could be reduced to

 and

 and

 !?!

For crying out loud, taking pop culture playthings and folding in bible characters or praise music does not make them holy any more than wearing a tie with a bible verse on it makes you a better Christian. Why try to reduce the divine to mediocrity? It only invites the caricaturization of Christians. (Incidentally, do you ever get the feeling that Family Christian Stores and its suppliers don’t give a rip about Christianity, but view Evangelicals as an easy mark? Doesn’t it feel a bit like putting Miley Cyrus on junky toys and clothes because tweens and their parents will buy anything, even junk, as long as it has her image?)

Here’s my thought: there are things in our world that are holy; treat them as such. Intermarrying the divine with the things of this world only makes a mockery of your faith.