St. Louis Adventure 1:

Well, when you move to a new place, you have to start somewhere in getting to know it. So today, I treated myself to a trip to the Bellefontaine Cemetery - final home of many of St. Louis' most prominent citizens:

Lindell

Barnes

Anheuser

Busch

David R. Francis - former governor.

And the Prufrock family plot. The Prufrock's owned a furniture store in St. Louis, and the name lodged itself into the brain of a yount T.S. Eliot who in turn used in the title of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."

The reason I know and love that poem is because of my High School English teacher. Then when I lived in London, a roommate and I decided to memorize it, I didn't succeed, but I got a lot of it stuck in my head.

"Let us go then, you and I."

So today, I tucked my High School English text book under my arm, and when I reached Prufrock, I read the whole thing aloud. Probably the first time I'd actually read it in a couple years.

Eliot writes that "there will be time...for a thousand decisions and revisions that a minute will revise." I don't imagine he was in a graveyard when he wrote it. But it seems brazenly optimistic to utter those words in a graveyard - surrounded by testaments that time runs out for all of us, at some point, whether we've disturbed the universe, gone bald, eaten a peach or heard the mermaids singing.

Of course, you could argue that the belief that there will be time is Prufrock's whole problem, his indecision paralyzes him, still he has the prescience to see that he's no star, merely the prince's fool, and yet there is pain even in that prescience for the character - for he's not left in blissful ignorance - no, he hears the mermaids, he simply knows they are not singing for him.

Here's what I think though: whether you decide to wear your trousers rolled or not, do it strongly. We've all got decisions, don't let them pin you wriggling to the wall. And tell the people that you care for that you care for them, because despite what Prufrock says, there really isn't ever all the time you'd want. So start right now, pick up that phone, call someone and tell them that you love them.

***

And on an different note, the inscription above the Busch crypt says, "Veni, Vidi, Vici" - And in St. Louis, that's a pretty fair statement for them. I doubt they'll change it just because the Belgians have moved in.

My other favorite tomb was a crypt decked out with Egyptian motifs.

The leaves are hanging prettily on the trees, they'll be gone soon, and the squirrels will start to look a little thin. The winter's coming on, but for now, I'm standing under the Autumn gold. A gold that looks like it's been pressed and refined through circumstances to something burnished, gleaming and beautiful. A gold, that looks a bit like me.




So that's the news from Lake Wellenough, turn up your collars against the rain, check your tires, and don't forget to Hope always - it's just over that way

I've been thinking about the gospel lately...

I've been thinking about the subject of a sermon I heard around Easter, as I recall - the basic theme being that the "resurrection" changes everything.

In my brain lately, I've been thinking about how the gospel of Christ changes everything - how it must change all of one's life or change nothing at all. Done halfway, and the changes seem only as good intentions.

The gospel must change all one's life.

In for a penny, in for a pound, or something like.

I'm still thinking about it...but I'm deeply grateful for the gospel, and for the newness that Christ brings to our hearts.

Feathers and Fluff

I used to be a devoted fan of Monty Python as were most of my friends, we memorized sketches and recited them constantly...

Which is to say that the sophmoric sketch about the Spanish Inquisition has been stuck in my head for a while.

In the sketches there is a banal set up, a mild chat, a courtroom, whereupon three blokes dressed in red costumes burst in to shout, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition."

This is a lot like what my life feels like - the daily life and breath, the work and the rest, the slow work of existing in a surprising, and unexpected reality - and suddenly three odd blokes crash through the door and shout, "No one expects the unexpected and the ridiculous."

There is an absurdity in life that is hard to be reckoned with sometimes. No one expects tragedy, or sorrow, and yet it will burst through the door on all of us at some point or another.

But the deep wonder of the day

Like Thoreau, I'm a marrow-live-r - I want each moment to it's fullest. To live deeply takes practice, and stillness, and a deep sense of wonder for each and every day that dawns over one's head.

Even in sorrow, there's still wonder in the days, even though sometimes it's a pilgrimage to find it.

On Sunday, I spent a crisp-apple afternoon at the zoo. I looked at the funny bears, so clown-like and affable looking, the stately penguins who seem so proud and unaware of their humor. I watched a gorilla pick his nose, and then I heard over the wind the unmistakeable chords of "Blue Eyes Crying on the Rain."

I came upon a four-piece German band, a accordion-man, and a dark haired woman crooning, "In de tvilight time, I zee, blu eyes crying in de rain."

So I got a beer and brat, and sat down in the warm sun and listened to polka and yodeling, and om-pah-pah and so on.

I drank in the sun, which seems to be following the geese south, and breathed in the peppery fall air that tickles the nose.

I watched a variety of people walking by the band become struck by the the desire to literally kick up their heels and swirl, and step to the music.

I laughed and I said, "thank you."

Beyond that

New place, new job that's totally different from teaching.

The most striking difference (aside from the obvious lack of children) is that there are supplies in the office, like pens! and paper! and I never have anxiety any more about how much of my paycheck will have to go towards supplementing my supplies!

It may seem strange to get excited about hanging folders, paper clips, and pens, but just try teaching in the inner-city, where no one is above pinching paper from their co-worker, and then tell me that working in a well stocked office isn't thrilling.

So that's the news from Lake Wellenough. Or part of it anyway.

Love to all of y'all out there on your own road - check your tires, and turn up your collar against the rain.