May 2011
Birthday Cruise
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Cultural Immersion
Immersing oneself in the local culture can be an interesting experience. I’m proud of my brother, and I’m proud of my Scottish heritage. But there is something not quite right about this....
Penguin-mobile II
Thu 19 May 2011 Filed in: My Life
The second reason is that today with its sunshine, blue sky, and 70 degree weather is the perfect day to buy a car with a sun roof.
Cultural Diversity
Thu 19 May 2011 Filed in: My Life
It would be a simpler world if everyone were just like me. It would also be a lot less interesting. Travel has a way of reminding one of the cultural smorgasbord of our world. In the last three weeks of traveling in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, Suzanne and I have noticed that not everyone is just like us. Sometimes that is good; sometimes it is not.
I was born and lived the first seven years of my life in England, and so the culture is not entirely foreign. But I live in a different culture now - and England has changed a bit as well - and so we experienced a few interesting moments. Take a simple thing like traffic: The British (and the Irish) drive on the left side of the road, and the driver sits on the right side of the car. It seems backwards, especially when someone invites you to sit in the front passenger seat and there is no steering wheel there. There was one startling moment when I glanced at a passing car to see a child’s head sticking out of what I at first thought was the driver’s window. Normal activities like crossing the street become new challenges that one has to think about before acting (look right...).
The same rules apparently don’t apply to walking. (Stand to the right, pass on the left on escalators.) Walking is a lot more popular. At first I thought it was a plot to make sure that I kept up with my cardio exercise, but it was instead a culture that is not addicted to the automobile. That was refreshing.
TV was less refreshing. The U.S. has received some of the best of British television. In return, we have apparently sent them some of the worst of ours. Who would have expected to see Judge Judy in Britain? But I guess it’s okay since they have a lot of bad stuff too.
Tube etiquette was disappointing. (The tube is the London Underground or subway system.) We rode a couple of dozen underground trains, some of which were packed with people. Not once did I see a young person offer a seat to a grey-haired traveler or a man offer a seat to a lady. Perhaps it is cultural value on equality, but it is not the England I remember.
We experienced gracious hospitality virtually everywhere we went. It is good to know that not everyone perceives Americans as ugly. It strikes me that I have much to learn from people who are not like me.
I was born and lived the first seven years of my life in England, and so the culture is not entirely foreign. But I live in a different culture now - and England has changed a bit as well - and so we experienced a few interesting moments. Take a simple thing like traffic: The British (and the Irish) drive on the left side of the road, and the driver sits on the right side of the car. It seems backwards, especially when someone invites you to sit in the front passenger seat and there is no steering wheel there. There was one startling moment when I glanced at a passing car to see a child’s head sticking out of what I at first thought was the driver’s window. Normal activities like crossing the street become new challenges that one has to think about before acting (look right...).
The same rules apparently don’t apply to walking. (Stand to the right, pass on the left on escalators.) Walking is a lot more popular. At first I thought it was a plot to make sure that I kept up with my cardio exercise, but it was instead a culture that is not addicted to the automobile. That was refreshing.
TV was less refreshing. The U.S. has received some of the best of British television. In return, we have apparently sent them some of the worst of ours. Who would have expected to see Judge Judy in Britain? But I guess it’s okay since they have a lot of bad stuff too.
Tube etiquette was disappointing. (The tube is the London Underground or subway system.) We rode a couple of dozen underground trains, some of which were packed with people. Not once did I see a young person offer a seat to a grey-haired traveler or a man offer a seat to a lady. Perhaps it is cultural value on equality, but it is not the England I remember.
We experienced gracious hospitality virtually everywhere we went. It is good to know that not everyone perceives Americans as ugly. It strikes me that I have much to learn from people who are not like me.
Scattering in Scotland
Tue 10 May 2011 Filed in: My Life | Grief Notes
About a month before her death, she reminded us of her desire, and then added that if for any reason USC refused her body, she wanted to be cremated and her ashes interred at Grandview Cemetery in Glendale, California, where my older brother’s ashes were buried. Realizing that we could fulfill both of her requests and provide a sense of “place” since USC offers to return the cremains when they are finished, we planned accordingly.
Meanwhile, and unknown to us at the time, Grandview was immersing itself in a scandal. The woman who was operating the old family-run cemetery had been playing fast and loose with the law, including selling the same plots twice. When the state sent an investigator, he found a terribly run-down cemetery, grounds that had not been maintained, mausoleums with damaged crypts and in-use coffins left sitting in the mausoleum, and some four thousand sets of cremated remains stored in the basement with no easy method of inventorying them. The state imposed a set of mandates that the cemetery was unable to meet, and the cemetery was closed and placed under court supervision. Renovations are taking place as a result of a recently settled court action, and the place is for sale, but it remains under court supervision with limited access, and interring Mom’s remains there would have required a court order.
God and Bin Laden
Mon 02 May 2011 Filed in: Reflections | Hmmm...
I’m about to irritate some of my friends.
I heard the news that Osama bin Laden is dead called through the bathroom door this morning while I was taking a shower in Ireland. By the time I dried off and dressed, I could see the televised images of a joy that I can’t quite share. I can understand the sense of celebration. For the last decade he has been the face of evil and hatred, and he has now received the destiny he chose. But nagging at the back of my mind has been a disquieting question: What does God think about the death of bin Laden?
I do not minimize for a moment the unspeakable value of the lives of those who have died as victims of or warriors in the battle with terror. I also have trouble wrapping my mind around the truth that bin Laden was a man whom God loved and to whom God’s grace was available. To celebrate the irreversible rejection of such love misses the point of who God is and what He intends. Death, even the death of one who seemed to delight in being the personification of evil, is no win; in the economy of the kingdom of a God who desires that nobody should perish, it seems more like a loss because it was not evil that died; it was an evil man that God had not stopped loving. Bin Laden may be gone, but the battle against evil is not over.
That there are those for whom hell will be needed before they grasp the reality of God is a tragic truth, but probably not one worth celebrating. And if that irritates you, so be it.
I heard the news that Osama bin Laden is dead called through the bathroom door this morning while I was taking a shower in Ireland. By the time I dried off and dressed, I could see the televised images of a joy that I can’t quite share. I can understand the sense of celebration. For the last decade he has been the face of evil and hatred, and he has now received the destiny he chose. But nagging at the back of my mind has been a disquieting question: What does God think about the death of bin Laden?
I do not minimize for a moment the unspeakable value of the lives of those who have died as victims of or warriors in the battle with terror. I also have trouble wrapping my mind around the truth that bin Laden was a man whom God loved and to whom God’s grace was available. To celebrate the irreversible rejection of such love misses the point of who God is and what He intends. Death, even the death of one who seemed to delight in being the personification of evil, is no win; in the economy of the kingdom of a God who desires that nobody should perish, it seems more like a loss because it was not evil that died; it was an evil man that God had not stopped loving. Bin Laden may be gone, but the battle against evil is not over.
That there are those for whom hell will be needed before they grasp the reality of God is a tragic truth, but probably not one worth celebrating. And if that irritates you, so be it.
Choosing Wisely
Sun 01 May 2011 Filed in: My Life | Reflections
I could have been at a party in the park, but I’m glad I wasn’t. Friday was a national holiday in England as the local populace went to great lengths to celebrate the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. It was a glorious affair. We were in Bath on the day of the wedding. (We’d originally planned to be in London, but that was before William and Kate set their date making London the last place in the world I wanted to be on Friday.) The celebration of choice in Bath was a party - well, actually parties - in the park that eventually drifted into some of the more raucous pubs in the evening.
That would be the same evening that Suzanne and I discovered an Italian restaurant with some of the best food I have ever tasted. And it was empty. (Technically we didn’t discover it; our hostess recommended it.) Granted the place only seats 15 people, not counting the al fresco option of the outdoor tables, but it seemed strange that such good food should be so widely ignored. “We didn’t know what to expect today,” we were told. “Lunch was busy, but tonight it is very quiet.”
“They don’t know what they are missing,” I told him, and my comment left me pondering: I wonder how often I choose unwisely and don’t know what I’m missing?
That would be the same evening that Suzanne and I discovered an Italian restaurant with some of the best food I have ever tasted. And it was empty. (Technically we didn’t discover it; our hostess recommended it.) Granted the place only seats 15 people, not counting the al fresco option of the outdoor tables, but it seemed strange that such good food should be so widely ignored. “We didn’t know what to expect today,” we were told. “Lunch was busy, but tonight it is very quiet.”
“They don’t know what they are missing,” I told him, and my comment left me pondering: I wonder how often I choose unwisely and don’t know what I’m missing?