Thursday, November 23, 2006

Home for the Holidays

From "The Journals of Alexander Schmemann" Friday December 14, 1973
I love my home, and to leave home and be away overnight is always like dying--returning seems so very far away! I am always full of joy when I think about home. All homes, with lit windows behind which people live, give me infinite pleasure. I would love to enter each of them, to feel its uniqueness, the quality of its warmth. Each time I see a man or a woman walking with shopping bags, that is, going home, I think about them: they are going home, to real life, and I feel good, and they become somehow close and dear. I am always intrigued: What do people 'do' when they do not 'do' anything, when they just live? That's when life becomes important, when their fate is determined. Simple bourgeois happiness is often despised by activists of all sorts who quite often do not realize the depth of life itself; who think that life is an accumulation of activities. God gives us His Life, not ideas, doctrines, rules. At home, when all is done, life itself begins.

5:17 glowing in my blurred and stuffy vision and one of them fussing in the other room. Pillow under arm stumbling across the hall knocking over the one year old fussing. Nigh Nigh. Five minutes fussing and kicking the neighbors's wall. No: it's still nigh nigh time. Dozing to more fussing but now there's a light under the blinds. That raspy little voice: Juuuuuuse? Now snuggling on the couch, mussy hair and a warm little body in crazy striped tights. Who put you to bed in that? Quiet. The house is clean and that makes it easier to be at rest. And the windows lighten. Mukk? Stillness broken by a fridge light, click the oven light, hot water started, mukk from the fridge, and might as well get the cereal in my Foggy Head Routine. Is it foggy again; no, I can see lights. Wipe the windows and rattle them open. Crisp, Cold, clears my eyes out. Some tea for my head. Eating sounds behind me and a comfortable chair to enjoy the view. An extended pause for this is good air to be breathing.

Christ was homeless not because He despised simple happiness--He did have a childhood, family, home--but because He was at home everywhere in the world, which His Father created as the "home" of man. "Peace be with this house." We have our home and God's home, the Church, and the deepest experience of the Church is that of a home. Always the same and, above anything else, life itself--the Liturgy, evening, morning, a feast--and not an activity.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Good Game; Bad Result

The Michigan-OSU game was a good one.

All I can say now is go Cal!

And then next week, go USC and Florida State!

Friday, November 17, 2006

Bo (1929-2006)

There are a few things that are parts of my growing up years: Reagan was always president, Tigers won in 1984, Atari games were the state of the art, and Bo was always coaching Michigan.

I hope they give him a moment of silence at The Horseshoe tomorrow, and I hope the OSU fans there are sufficiently mannered to observe it.

Monday, November 13, 2006

Dr. Tom Slade

Dr. Slade was my dentist while I was growing up. He was a great dentist. Before he was a dentist he played quarterback for Bo at Michigan.

After a battle with leukemia, Dr. Slade passed away on Sunday. May his soul rest in peace.

UPDATE: Here's an obituary on Dr. Slade.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Look Out Karl Rove, It's the The Bourgeois Mother

Mom ran as a write in candidate for her local library board of trustees. After mounting a vigorous write-in campaign, which lasted a grueling six days, she has unofficially been declared the winner for her seat by an "overwhelming" margin. Way to go mom! (I think she's the first person in our family to ever hold an elected office.)

The Plato-lover in me is especially happy since mom didn't want to run. Her boss suggested she run for the seat, and she agreed. It reminded me of the philosophers in the Republic -- they are the most qualified to rule the city, but they must be forced to do it.