Diversions

In Which I Blather on about This & That ... and Nothing in Particular

I haven’t been on some friends’ blogs as much as I’d like for a while now. I was truly frightened when I woke at 1:30 this morning from a very clear and distressing dream – which didn’t feel like a dream – involving Paul and Grandmère Mimi. I got up, went to Ye Olde Laptop, checked their blogs and Facebook, to be sure they had both posted recently … which they could not have done, had my “dream” been an actual portent. Thanks be to God, both seem to be fine.

But, alas, here I am much later, still not being able to go back to sleep. Ah, well. At least the three cats have joined me here on the sofa. (It’s probably just for the body heat … since my programmable thermostat lets the temperature go down to 60 degrees at night.)

I’ve caught up on a few other friends’ blogs. I wanted to comment on several, but didn’t. For how to explain my delay of a week or two … or more? Mea culpa. Alas …

Still not ready to go back to bed, I went to some of my favorite “just for fun” blogs that are entirely unrelated to the church or the Angli-Can’t troubles. Much fun!

Then I decided to commit my own bloggery here. Why not?

Friday morning, I went down to the Lake, intending to spend 2 nights and 3 days with my dear friends D & A. But, alas, the weather forecast turned ugly, and we feared we would not be able to get out of there (with the steep, unpaved road leading to a curvy, hilly county road, neither of which was likely to be plowed). So we broke up the party early, and I came home after just one evening – cutting short my mini-vacation and a longed-for visit with my friends.

Today I introduced D & A to one of my favorite sites: the humorously named Despair.com. It parodies those framed motivational posters one sees all too often in corporate offices. This is one of my favorites:


I hope you can read the caption: “There is no greater joy than soaring high on the wings of your dreams, except maybe the joy of watching a dreamer who has nowhere to land but in the ocean of reality.”

It reminds me so much of the guy who became my uber-boss nearly two years ago. I yearn for the day when he crashes headlong into the ocean of reality.

My friend A. reciprocated by introducing me to one of her favorites: Unhappy Hipsters. Apparently, it helps if one knows the magazine Dwell (a design and architecture magazine) to “get it” entirely. I like the sardonic tone. It's kinda like "Emos Tackle Architectural Digest." I especially enjoyed this one (from here):


On the Unhappy Hipsters site, it is captioned:

At the art opening, he’d been convinced the blank canvas symbolized endless possibilities. Back at home, it was just one more reminder of his own desperation.
(Photo: Raimund Koch; Dwell, April 2009)

That’s so much better than the dry caption at the Dwell site:

Dolce sits on a vintage 1950s couch he found at a thrift store in Asbury Park, New Jersey. Dolce and Burnham had the couch and the Donghia armchair recovered in a stain-resistant Sunbrella fabric by Andrew Grossman Upholstery. The Flokati rug was picked up at a thrift store in Florida. Hanging on the wall behind Dolce is a piece of art by British painter Tom Hammick.

Check out Unhappy Hipsters. It’s going to be one I check regularly, along with my daily fix of I Can Has Cheezburger.

Now ... we shall see if I can go back to bed and get to sleep.

Am I motivated to get to bed so I can make it to church tomorrow? Not particularly. The parish will have a "jazz mass," which we recently launched as an annual event around the Feast of Absalom Jones (the first African American priest ordained in the Episcopal Church). It's the regular BCP service, but with the service music in jazz settings by a fine, local musician. And the "special music" (during the offertory, e.g.) will also be jazz. If past years are any indication, a fine jazz ensemble will be there to lead the music and our choir will do a great job. All of which is very fine ... except that I don't much like jazz. It's like the dilemma of whether to go to an ice cream social at the parish if one doesn't like ice cream: Does one attend for the sake of the parish and the fellowship? ... We shall see. But I truly can't remember the last time I missed church on Sunday without being seriously ill. Can't remember the last time I decided just to "sleep in." This may be the day.

By the bye ... Here's a shout-out to Padre Mickey. If one does a Google search for "episcopal feast of absalom jones," where do you think it first directs you? To Church Publishing? To some other official lectionary site? Nope! The first listing on the Google search results is Padre Mickey's posting on the feast this year. Way to go, my brother!