Earth Day 2021

 

 

Lake James Pokagon State Park

Psalms 146 through 150 begin and end with the call “Praise the Lord”. An examination of the ancient Hebrew meaning of the word which we commonly, and even casually, use in church reveals this…”The verb hālal means "praise." "This root connotes being sincerely and deeply thankful for and/or satisfied in lauding a superior quality or great, great acts of the object."

There should be a sense of great thankfulness as we praise God. It does not appear that God seeks empty lip-service. It seems that because he has been wonderfully generous with his creation that all of creation might respond with joyous acknowledgement.

As we approach Earth Day, April 22, 2021, let us, along with all other created moments and objects of existence release from our innermost sense of identity an applause that will reach to the ears and heart of God.

Psalm 148 speaks of all things in existence offering this applause to God.

Let us join their unending hymn…

Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord from the heavens: praise him in the heights.

² Praise ye him, all his angels: praise ye him, all his hosts.

³ Praise ye him, sun and moon: praise him, all ye stars of light.

⁴ Praise him, ye heavens of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens.

⁵ Let them praise the name of the Lord: for he commanded, and they were created.

⁶ He hath also stablished them for ever and ever: he hath made a decree which shall not pass.

⁷ Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps:

⁸ Fire, and hail; snow, and vapours; stormy wind fulfilling his word:

⁹ Mountains, and all hills; fruitful trees, and all cedars:

¹⁰ Beasts, and all cattle; creeping things, and flying fowl:

¹¹ Kings of the earth, and all people; princes, and all judges of the earth:

¹² Both young men, and maidens; old men, and children:

¹³ Let them praise the name of the Lord: for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven.

¹⁴ He also exalteth the horn of his people, the praise of all his saints; even of the children of Israel, a people near unto him. Praise ye the Lord.

The Last Supper? I Think Not!

 

 

da Vinci Public domain picture from Wikipedia

 

Greetings Sisters and Brothers in Christ…

Contemplate these words from Luke, chapter 24 (which take place after Jesus' resurrection)

³⁰ When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. ³¹ Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. ³² They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”

 

So you see, the commonly referred to “Last Supper” was not in fact the last supper Jesus had with disciples. I imagine he had many suppers with them after his resurrection and before ascension.

But I suppose these suppers just didn’t have enough sensational impact for Leonardo da Vinci! Thus, we are stuck on the one he pictured.

 

Now why, in this scene, Jesus stays only long enough to eat, be recognized and then “poof” he’s gone I can’t say for sure. I think he is making the point that he is capable of lovingly intervening in our tangible and spiritual lives simultaneously. And so we should also attend to both, the spiritual and physical.

But he appears to a greater group of disciples later. And, once again, he eats with them!

⁴⁰ When he had said this, he showed them his hands and feet. ⁴¹ And while they still did not believe it because of joy and amazement, he asked them, “Do you have anything here to eat?” ⁴² They gave him a piece of broiled fish, ⁴³ and he took it and ate it in their presence.

⁴⁴ He said to them, “This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.”

⁴⁵ Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures.

Much is often said about fasting as a spiritual discipline. Humph!

I find it very interesting that these scenes, in which Jesus is recognized and the Scriptures understood, are in the context of supper!

I suggest this…the next dinner, breakfast or lunch you have with family, friends, coworkers, ask not only that the food be blessed but also that your eyes be more fully opened that you may see Jesus more clearly and understand Scripture more fully.

Ask and you will receive!

Lemon Meringue Sentence Development

 

 

Picture from thespruceeats,com

I recently was described as the “M.C. Escher of the sentence”!

My goodness what a compliment my ego embraced in that comment.

And I suppose there are some sentences in which I do attempt to turn the predicate around to move back toward the subject that it may then again travel toward the predicate.

But generally, I merely attempt to adorn a simple subject and predicate with application of adjective and adverb. I garnish the simple sentence with punctuation in hopes to pull into the simple, though adorned, sentence informative concepts that otherwise would remain extra-sentence stand alone grammatical creatures in their own, unadorned, right.

Well, as an example of how I develop a grammatically correct, yet labyrinthine group of words, I offer the following scenario.

I begin with a very simple sentence such as…

“I ate pie.” So what!

Therefore, to give the sentence charm, I add a descriptor…

“I ate lemon-meringue pie.” You see how now you can almost taste the lemon and see the yellow and white coloring.

Now, allow me to describe, not only further the kind of pie I ate, but my personal character in doing so…

“I ate precisely sliced lemon-meringue pie without guilt.”

Still, “without guilt” does not adequately describe the undisciplined character of the subject. So, let me further besmirch this deserving subject…

“I, in willful iniquity, ate precisely sliced lemon-meringue pie without entertaining even a hint of guilt.”

I suppose that sentence would be generally accepted as full and complete and soundly in compliance with generally accepted grammatical style. It is composed of only sixteen words, two commas, one hyphen, and one period. It is quite economical.

But, it is not yet fun enough for me!

So, allow me, in conclusion (I promise) my signature fatiguing style of grammatical excess.

“I, in willful iniquity, and as an exercise in punch-to-the –nose insult of on-watching calorie spies, ate precisely sliced lemon-meringue pie without entertaining even a hint of guilt!”

The Historic Gatehouse at Pokagon State Park

 

Sherry and I periodically travel to the Pokagon State Park around Angola Indiana to spend a few nights or sometimes just to have dinner.

This last Sunday, Easter, we went for Easter brunch.

As we entered we discovered that the historic gatehouse was open to visitors.

It has been remodeled to be somewhat of a museum inside.

Being nostalgic and an amateur historian, I had to experience this little slice of Pokagon history.

And so, Sherry and I visited.

I never previously heard the term “Pocket Museum”.

One thing that punched my attention was that there was no restroom!

Can you imagine (assume interrobang here)

Enjoy the photos…

But at least there was a fireplace to stay warm.

If ever you get a chance to visit Pokagon, drop in on the Historic Gatehouse.

Oh yes, the brunch was tasty!

Defries Calendar Garden Elkhart County

 

Those folk who attend to the Defries Calendar Garden in Elkhart County Indiana sure do stay up on their work diligently!

 

They have this circular walk way paved with bricks. There is a brick engraved with the date of each day of the year and also bricks engraved with names of holidays.

You can see that they move the bricks to accommodate moving holidays.

 

As if that were not enough, they stay tuned to changes in federal tax deadlines.

They have moved the tax brick from April 15 to May 17 in response to the change in IRS policy for year 2021.

I’m pretty impressed with these folk!

Sherry and I had a wonderful Holy Saturday walk along the brick-paved garden today.

You can learn more about Defries Gardens at:

https://elkhartcountyparks.org/destinations/defries-gardens/

An Instrument with Which to Write

 

   As far back into my youth as I remember, I have enjoyed writing. I have sought to create compositions which others would read and then offer in response accolade regarding my creative and grammatical abilities and skills. I sought to be known as a writer, identified and introduced in public as an accomplished artist of well-spoken and enviably-written English.

   Of course, I discovered that fiction, the essay, the biography were far too lengthy and complex a project to which I could submit my patience. And so, the poem seemed a manageable pursuit. My earliest poems were of a simple-rhyme construction, such as:

I seldom meet a girl so fair

As sunlight shines through morning air.

But on occasion as I do

They’re yet not fair quite so as you

 

   I certainly do not mean to insult simple rhyme. I have continued creating such rhyme for pleasure and for mild distraction for myself and a possible reader. One such poem was published in The Lyric during the early 1990s;

 

“Expired Coupon”

I found an expired coupon

There on the hallway floor.

I put it in my pocket,

But did not know what for.

Then later I discovered

A purpose that was fit.

I wrote this simple poem

Upon the back of it.

 

    But I do confess that these simple compositions grew to seem intellectually unsatisfying. And so I began to explore other types of poetry.

    Upon discovery of William Carlos Williams, and specifically three of his poems, “Red Wheelbarrow”, “Plums”, “Between Walls”, I gained a prolonged interest in non-rhyme as an entertaining means of describing and celebrating reality. I sought to imitate Williams, but the skill never developed. The proper inspiration was debilitating by its absence.

Still, I tried with

 

“Penny”

By the yellow curb

in a pool of oil and rainwater

lies a Lincoln-head.

 

An old one for sure,

but nonetheless valued

by a barefoot boy of five.

 

He clutches it tightly

as a prize

he’s won the right to claim.

 

An English teacher commented upon my returned paper “it fails to achieve Williams”.

  

    The search for, and successful use of words that flourish and garnish a sentence with grandiose adornment has caused a sense of pride and achievement within me. Arranging a sentence in fanciful, unexpected grammatical flow has tickled the literate nerve within and prompted its expression without.

    As I matured, I discovered that poetry, fiction, and biography are not the only means by which entertaining language can be delivered. Creativity can adorn even common speech in ordinary settings.

    As pastor of a United Methodist Church I have opportunity to compose sermons peppered with phrases that give flavor to what might otherwise be unpalatable topics. These sermons are an opportunity to deliver such language.

    I enjoy composing birthday greetings. It takes only a moment to spice up an ordinary sentence with an adjective, adverb, or simile. And people are worth such wishes as “May all the cosmic forces of beneficence conspire to create a day fulfilled beyond your highest expectations.” Or, “As God’s muse, you shall today inspire his creative impulse and make the world a better place.”

    I have become satisfied that these everyday, ordinary language opportunities are sufficient to fulfill my interest.

   The most effective instrument with which to write is the inspiration provided by the common, ordinary moments of one’s life. A well-told story, a birthday greeting, a letter to a friend, even an email can become a literary device by which one may flourish and garnish a sentence or paragraph with grandiose adornment.

 For me personally, the ultimate instrument with which to write was presented as a Christmas gift to me by my wife, Sherry Borglum on December 25, 2017. Sherry, observing how I make notes, record observations on the backs of receipts, napkins, and other ephemeral paper medium, gave me a “Fordite” ink-pen. As described by the pen-creator, Bob Belz “ Fordite is a generic name given to accumulative paint layers that were created from the over spray from various manufacturing processes.”

   Sherry knows I am constantly making notes with pen. She knows how much I favor Ford vehicles. And so this gift is quite unique and wonderful.

It shall provide much inspiration by which I may compose, compile or otherwise create sermons, greetings or an exercise in ego-satisfaction with sentences such as "Why settle for one perfectly adequate word when a second superfluous synonym can decorate the sentence with a charming grandiosity, however otherwise useless it may be?"

Journaling Into the Future

 

The personal attribute of being sentimental seems to have acquired an unfavorable assessment in a world which moves quickly and ferociously, tears down and buries architectural contexts and leaves history behind in a cloud of cultural dust.

    I am sentimental. I claim it, I embrace it. I value the past because of what it was and that it has brought us to this current point, personally, technologically, and otherwise. I enjoy reading history, biography and connecting the dots of who we are and how we got here, and perhaps where we are going.

Having been born into and raised by a very poor family puts one at odds with such a personal attribute. Poor folk, having to quickly find work in another town or city, having to beg car rides from friends or others, having to leave an apartment before being evicted, cannot afford to carry with them the luxury of sentimental items such as old school records, photos, and other such items.

Thus, much of the artifacts of my personal past wound up in trash dumpsters rather than my continued possession.

So, through the residential moves, the different schools and friends, I learned to develop a reliable memory. I learned to treasure that memory. I created journals composed of notes written on the back of grocery store receipts, library check-out tickets, and just about anything which would receive ink or pencil lead. I would write the date, weather conditions, personal interactions and overall comment on the day or event. My first journal was a plastic Captain Crunch Treasure Chest which I gained by sending cereal box tops to some post office address which I am sure has changed owneership. I kept my notes on the backs of receipts in sequential order bound by a rubber band in the “hidden compartment”. My next journal was a “Dutch Masters” cigar box discarded by my grandfather and retrieved from the trash before it gained soil and stain.

At some point my living circumstances became stabilized and I began using actual notebooks designed as journals. I accumulated so many of them that from time to time I have had to review and consolidate recorded entries into a compilation, which I continue to compile.

Looking back on the recorded history of my life, I have discovered that I hold much appreciation for the negative circumstances and events in my life. Surely not so much as the positive, more favorable situations, but negative event also brings much value.

Not only is life precious, but the stories, the events and circumstances are equally meaningful.

A first date, a first kiss, discovering stereo effect with headphones, a fiery streak of meteor in the night sky, these things evoke emotional and intellectual response. They place us at sure geography and point in time.

Reviewing our memories and our journals allows us to remember who we have been and more fully discover who we presently are. In my personal case they have faithfully anticipated who I would become.

People find it a bit excessive that I plan ten years out into the future with goals, vacations, and such. And true enough, many unpredictable vents emerge that force modification to my plans. But generally, my plans succeed. It’s much like writing comments in a journal of the future.

Of course I may be an anomaly of some strange kind. But I have come to believe that well-kept journals and a diligent review of those journals provides for us a basis upon which we may in the present create and project into the future successful and treasonable memories.

Yes, I am sentimental. And I plan to be so at least for the next well-journaled ten years.

A Tale of Two Donkeys

 

Image from Catholic Courrier

There are, in the Bible, two donkeys that have very important roles.

The more familiar donkey is the one upon whom Jesus rode from Mount of Olives into Jerusalem. I draw your reading attention to Luke 19: 28-40 in which the familiar donkey has his “fifteen minutes of fame”.

In this episode we learn of the instruction Jesus gave to his disciples to go fetch a “never before ridden” donkey. The disciples ask what I surely would have asked…”Why in the world would someone lend such a very important asset to a stranger?”

You see, I think this donkey was critical, or would be critical in the livelihood of the family. I don’t think the donkey was a pet or some incidental animal that they fed without any economic return. It was a big deal that the owners released their asset because they were told “The Lord needs it”.

   So, our lesson from this donkey is that we should be willing to release valuable assets for our Lord’s use.

   But what about that other donkey?

Image from Pinterest

I refer you to Numbers 22: 21-31 in which Balaam is riding his donkey until the donkey sees an angel of the Lord wielding a sword. The donkey will go no further. Balaam beats his donkey. So the donkey goes on until he sees an angel standing in a narrow path that led to vineyards. He stops again. Balaam, trying to show who's boss, beats him again. And then a third time this happened and the donkey says…“What have I done to you to make you beat me these three times?”

Balaam, seemingly not surprised at the fact of a talking donkey, responds  “You have made a fool of me! If only I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you right now.”

The donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your own donkey, which you have always ridden, to this day? Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?”

    Well, there are a lot of preaching perspectives regarding this episode such as:

1.     The Lord opened the donkey’s mouth…not the donkey of his own initiative.

2.     And, the Lord opened Balaam’s eyes so he could see what the donkey saw. Again, it was the prevenient grace of the Lord that accommodated Balaam.

But my point in this essay is this…

God very often provides grace and salvation in the most unexpected resources.

There…finally…Balaam’s donkey gets his fair share of fame!

Reflections on Psalm 19

 

photo credit: NASA,GOV

   The whole of Psalm 19 comes across as recognition of wonder and a request for the enabling of a proper response.

While many preachers will invoke the last verse before delivery of a sermon, it is clear that the verse “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer” is not really about preaching. It is truly about proper personal and social conduct as anyone goes through the day.

To paraphrase…” My goodness, what a great and wonderful day you have provided for me God. I will not take it for granted! Please nudge me to honor the wonder of this day by having good thoughts and good words for others.”

God, in his creative power, has provided a canvass for our artwork today.

Let’s paint upon that canvass great and wonderful creation of our own.

What great thoughts will you focus on today?

What encouraging words will you offer to others today?

 

Psalm 19 The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

2 Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.

3 There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.

4 Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun,

5 Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.

6 His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.

7 The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.

8 The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.

9 The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.

10 More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.

11 Moreover by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward.

12 Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults.

13 Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me: then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent from the great transgression.

14 Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.

Frank Sandlin: Mischief, Humor, Adventure!

 

all photos provided by Corinne Sandlin Larson

A belated tribute to Frank Sandlin who passed away September 21, 2007

If ever Frank Sandlin attempted to hide his “cat that ate the canary” smile, his lips betrayed him in the most devilish manner.

Frank always carried a smile that indicated he had some recent humorous story to report, or soon would have. These stories were emphatically punctuated with chuckles most contagious!

I worked with Frank at Concord schools from 1988 until 1999. He and I worked each and every high school basketball game together. The kids from Ox Bow Elementary school, where he worked as a custodian, would get his attention “Hi Frank!” And Frank would respond with some comment relating to some event of the last week. “Did they make you stay after school?” and other such replies were common from Frank.

He was for sure popular!

Ready for the Oscars!

Very good-natured and well liked by students and teachers, Frank developed a favorable reputation as someone to be proud to call friend!

And, much as he was good-natured and a “nice guy” as teachers report, I wish to highlight his humor.

Those stories he would tell of his weekends, his trips to Sturgis, South Dakota, loaded with antics, adventures accentuated with periodic laughter would brighten up any work day or break time. Frank’s presence faithfully caused the work-boredom to give way to an entertained spirit.

His real-life persona was what movie directors seek to place on the big screen!

And that Harley! If it was anywhere around summer-time, his butt was on that bike! Yes, stories from Sturgis, the open road, Frank had many.

As that bike entered the parking lot of the school that engine announced the presence of pure entertainment for the work day!

Sure, Frank did the work of the day. But his real contribution was to remind everybody that he, and they, were much more than just agents of elbow grease. He stirred up within us that sense of being present in the moment and enjoying personal experience with his humor, his stories.

Frank was fun to be around!

Too bad the movie directors never met him! he would have had a wonderful career on that big screen.

But them again, I’m not sure that screen would have been big enough for his mischievous persona!

In remembrance and celebration of Frank, I invite you to read the brief memoir from his sister, Corinne, below.

 I remembered how Frank would run into someone he knew pretty much wherever we went, especially in Elkhart but in other cities and states too. Shortly after we graduated from high school, we took a road trip to Florida and stopped at a random campground along the way, and Frank saw someone he knew staying at that campground. Another time we went to Ohio to go to a concert and stopped at a restaurant off the highway and I heard someone shout, “Hey, Frank!” across the dining room. When I lived in Denver, Frank came out one year for Christmas. After the family left, we decided to do some sightseeing. As we were driving up Pike’s Peak, I asked him if he thought he might run into someone he knew at the top of the mountain. He looked at me with that twinkle in his eye and said, “I don’t know, but if I do, I hope she’s good looking!” He did not know anyone that day, but he did take me to a biker bar and bought me a souvenir t-shirt. As it would turn out, that was our last trip together.

Gene Reece: Army Veteran and Honor Guard (and wife Vicki too!)

 

 

Gene Reece

  Imagine you are standing in an open campsite, far from the familiar roads, stores, churches, and conveniences of home and you witness a helicopter descending and dangling beneath it an ice cream truck!

    Gene Reece, Vietnam service Army veteran does not have to imagine. He remembers quite clearly and with a smile on his face as he told me of the incident during the late 1960s when he was serving in Vietnam.

patches

photos from the camp

Gene, proud volunteer for the Army, August 21, 1966-August 22, 1969, has other service stories, some describing actual combat, but that story about the ice cream truck is far too compelling to allow to be left un-shared. It is one of those images worthy of a scene in a movie. Yes, imagine a movie about the Vietnam War, the opening scene as movie title and production credits role and an Army helicopter lands an ice cream truck on a dry patch of ground, stirring up dust.

    Gene joined the Army to work in electronics. He wanted to serve in the signal corps. But, as happens in the chaos of war, his squad wound up in battle action in the Tet Offensive., with him as sergeant.

Gene was proud to serve and continues to be proud of that service.

I think we all should be proud of Gene for his willingness to be placed in such danger on behalf of America!

Gene continues to be faithful in service as he participates in funeral Honor Guard. He explains that each deceased service member, upon request of the family, gets a 21 gun salute.

Honor Guard

As I sometime officiate the funerals of service folk, I have seen the Honor Guard present, with great dignity, an American flag to the family.

Gene continues to bring honor, not only to himself and deceased service members, but also to the flag he defended during the 1960s!

   But you know, Gene looks good here because Vicki, his wife, does an excellent job of “putting him together!”

Gene and Vicki

   Vicki is very supportive of Gene and his activities.

Vicki serves as a smile-sporting greeter at the Willow Creek United Methodist Church in Mishawaka Indiana. She assists as a Communion steward and as prayer-chain coordinator.

Vicki hopes to greet you!

People like Gene and Vicki make things happen, hold things together, and pull things forward!

Let’s give a round of applause for Gene and Vicki!!!

In closing I would like to report that Gene said he and his whole camp had much fun eating ice cream upon the arrival of the truck in Vietnam during the 1960s!

In Honor of Martin K Speckter, Inventer of the Interrobang

 

Interrobang invented by Martin Speckter

Thanks to retired English Teacher, Ella Reff and software engineer, LaRita Robinson I am aware of the interrobang!

The interrobang is defined by Merriam-Webster:” Definition

: a punctuation mark  designed for use especially at the end of an exclamatory rhetorical question.”

 It was invented in 1962 by Martin K Speckter who passed away on February 14, 1988.

When asked if he was serious about his invention of punctuation, he would reply

 “ Somewhat more seriously than Elizabeth Taylor and slightly less so than Khrushchev.”

   The discovery of his intriguing response was the funnest part of my research about him. I shall contemplate using that sentence as a response when I am asked about my earnestness of statements!

   I wonder if he really intended his interrobang rather than a period following the name of the Soviet Premier?!

Having not the interrobang punctuation key on my keypad, I was confined to the conventional style to indicate punctuation-intent.

  I drew much information for this post from: http://alphabettenthletter.blogspot.com/2012/01/creator-martin-k-speckter.html

The Incidental Inspiration of Barnaby Rudge

 

In February 1971, English class, 9^th grade, Concord, I checked out of the school library “Barnaby Rudge” by Charles Dickens as the book upon which I would write a report. I guess the teacher figured that if it were in the school library, it would be an acceptable read.

    Surely the subject material was appropriate. But the difficulty of read would challenge college level British literature majors, I presumed.

Yet, I continued.

You see, having read the first paragraph, and referring to a dictionary many times to discover meanings of some words such as “wont” and “yeoman”, it occurred to me that the whole of the paragraph was one sentence! And so, purely for fun, I began contemplating the structure of that sentence to see how it held together, developed an idea, and left an image in mind.

This sentence made me a Dickens fan. But more importantly, it made me appreciate and enjoy the English language, grammar, and punctuation.

I offer that first paragraph below in italics…

 

In the year 1775, there stood upon the borders of Epping Forest, at a distance of about twelve miles from London—measuring from the Standard in Cornhill, or rather from the spot on or near to which the Standard used to be in days of yore—a house of public entertainment called the Maypole; which fact was demonstrated to all such travellers as could neither read nor write (and at that time a vast number both of travellers and stay-at-homes were in this condition) by the emblem reared on the roadside over against the house, which, if not of those goodly proportions that Maypoles were wont to present in olden times, was a fair young ash, thirty feet in height, and straight as any arrow that ever English yeoman drew."

In my study of that sentence I counted : eight commas, 2 dashes,1 semi colon, one pair of parentheses. And , concluding, one period.

Thus began my career as an English sentence hobbyist.

Of course I have ventured into poetry, short stories, essays, but my most fun has been derived from taking an event, image, or thought and seeing how much narrative detail and device of punctuation I can apply to one sentence in description of that chosen object.

I have been accused of composing run-on sentences. To which I reply, “Thank you”.

My compositions have been met with raised eye brow, thereby affirming my esteem and intent.

I have been erroneously “corrected” wherefore I, in self-defense, offered the legitimacy of my sentence.

I have been legitimately corrected, and, subsequently, and sincerely offered gratitude to my corrector.

    Of course, I do not claim to have the command of language as did Dickens. I merely enjoy composing such silliness as follows…

“Why acquiesce to one perfectly adequate word when a second superfluous synonym can decorate the sentence with a charming grandiosity, however otherwise redundant it may be?"

That sentence describes quite accurately my philosophy of the matter of the conveyance of thought by word and punctuation.

    Well, for class in 1971, I did not finish the book which ran on for more than six hundred pages. And I paid little attention to the plot or its resolution. So I based my report on the structures of chosen sentences and paragraphs.

Here, fifty years later, I have checked out the book once again, this time from the Elkhart Public Library. I think I will read it for plot, finally.

Baby Boomers Having Difficulty Letting Go of the Cultural Car Keys

 

Fair use photo from Wikipedia

    Being a baby boomer myself, I always felt that radio music, television shows, fashion, and most other cultural aspects were designed to appeal to my generation.

   During the 1960s we had television shows such as Bewitched, Gilligan’s Island, I Dream of Jeannie, and my favorite…Johnny Quest. CKLW in Windsor/Detroit and WLS in Chicago played Beatles. Our age demographic controlled American culture!

   On February 1 1971 the Osmonds had the number 1 song at WLS.

“One bad apple don't
Spoil the whole bunch, girl
Oh, give it one more try
Before you give up on love

One bad apple don't
Spoil the whole bunch, girl”

 

The 1960s and early 1970s were a time of AM superstations like WLS which played a variety of hit sounds. Along with Iron Butterfly heavy metal and Tom Jones ballads groups like the Osmonds, the Jacksons, and even the contrived Archies held proper place on the charts and airwaves.

We listened on our battery operated transistor radios carried along much like smart phones today. We knew that our classmates would be listening to the same station, hearing the same songs played and we felt a sense of immediate community though we were not in presence or sight of each other. As we heard the songs we mentally recorded questions and comments we would share with our friends upon later meeting up with them.

   Likewise for television, since there were only three major networks to watch there was a very good chance that our classmates had seen the same shows over the weekend and therefore would have something to talk about at lunch-time at school on Monday.

   But, as AM superstations gave way to more localized FM stations that specialized in a particular genre, as cable television gave more options to viewing preferences, we baby boomers began losing our synchronized and outsized impact on culture.

    As younger generations exert influence on culture with their different musical and viewing tastes, we baby boomers feel much like our grandparents must have felt “That’s not music, that’s just noise!”, “They wouldn’t let smut like that be on television in my day!”

   Alas, it appears that American culture is for each generation to decide for itself. We baby boomers can no more impose upon younger generations what is and is not proper cultural norm any more than our parents tried to impose upon us.

I expect that as it happened for our predecessors, we boomers will increasingly become frustrated and uncomfortable with the prevailing tastes of the younger generations. We will feel detached. And what I think will irritate us the most is that we will be considered irrelevant.

Butcha know what! Periodically I run upon some young wait-staff person at a restaurant that names a 1960s singer or group as their favorite musical interest. Maybe we baby boomers really did set in cultural stone some undeniable and absolute classics that transcend subsequent generational whim. Yes…that’s what I’m going with!