Saturday, September 30, 2006

Bigger Is Better?

Yesterday evening, a friend and I wandered through the brand new, ultra-humongo, phantasmagorical, multi-mega HEB store in town. Who'd a-thunk that a grocery store would sell beds?!

I lived in Austin for ten years, most of them two blocks away from the local HEB store. I loved shopping at HEB. The food is high quality. The prices reasonable. The selection sufficient to deal with the picky palate of a toddler and his sometimes pretty picky mom. (have to be honest about this, you know!) It didn't hurt that the store was nearby and open 24 hours/day, not that I ordinarily shopped at 2am, but occasional dashes to pick up emergency supplies when one has a sick youngster sure made it handy.

I probably won't be back to the Beaumont HEB any time soon. It's not that the prices weren't good. Of course they were good! They've got to lure you into trying their new store and making the switch. It's not that they neglected to provide a variety to choose from. Variety! Sushi ... live seafood available ... an in-store buffet of ready to eat stuff, or ready to take home and reheat stuff ... live cooking demos and samples ... fruits ... veggies ... even Drumsticks in a flavor-pack that just jumped out and said "take me home!" It's not that there was a crowd, even though we went during Friday night high school football hours. That'll die down after a few weeks.

Nope! It's none of those things. It's the layout. Now, don't laugh. The store just plain isn't laid out like a grocery store! There's no apparent rhyme or reason to it. Grocery stores should have a 'flow' to the way you shop them. I don't particularly care if you start with the fruits and veggies on the right or end with the deli on the left, but it needs to flow from there. And this one doesn't.

Hmmmmmmmmm.....I may have just hit on my problem with HEB. I like to start from the right side of the store, and you can't at HEB. OK - I admit it. I'm not particularly fond of change. *chuckle*

I also tend to shop close to home. It's convenient, and on my way home from the office, and I can get the stuff into the 'fridge a whole lot faster. These things are important, since I only go to the store when the cupboard's approaching barer than bare. The desperation of the hunt is what usually sends me into the wilds of the local store. It helps if I know where things are in the places I usually stalk (semi-pun intended).

*sigh* Is bigger better? I'll give that an unqualified 'maybe'. I've been spending some time this past week learning some better definitions of success, most of which don't include anything about size. It's nice to know there's a place which has a variety of the things I like from time to time. In that particular instance, bigger does equate with better. The larger store has more space for that variety. However, when it comes to the overall picture, I think I'll stick with 'smaller', and just get adventurous when the craving for chocolate-chocolate Drumsticks overwhelms the senses and draws me out into bigger-land.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Musings from a Traffic Jam

Traveling from Houston back to Beaumont, wouldn't you know it? I-10 East through Baytown became a parking lot. Just what I needed! So what does one do while stuck in traffic (besides trying to figure out an alternate route that would take less time than inching forward, that is)?

After getting bored with singing to my cd's, I just decided to let the brain ramble. Here's the result:

The truck and trailer next to me pulled forward and had this bumper sticker: We are coming. God may forgive you. We will not. I certainly hope the guy's not a Christian. Wonder if he prays the Lord's Prayer regularly. If so, he's forgotten the part where you pray, "forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors" (the Presbyterian version). Professional hazard, of course. Those are the kinds of things that run through my head when I see such absolutes. Wasn't too particularly impressed with the idea of being included in the bumper sticker's "we" either.

As you might guess, my fellow trapped vehicles were fodder for contemplation. Does anyone have any idea what state has license plates with rainbows on them? A car two lanes over had some really attractive white plates with a rainbow across the top third, but I couldn't see which state they were from. I love rainbows! Might even consider moving to a state with rainbow license plates .... hmmmmm..... well ... someday.

Dumb question of the week: Why do gas stations continue to identify their gasoline as 'unleaded'? Why don't they just advertise regular, super, and premium as they used to when gasoline was leaded? I seem to recall the shift from leaded to unleaded taking place sometime in the 70's. I don't recall seeing leaded gasoline in at least 25 years. Would you be confused if the pumps just said regular, super, and premium, and unleaded wasn't anywhere to be seen?

And about that point, the road in front of me miraculously cleared and traffic began to move at something resembling a normal speed. 'Til next time!

Monday, September 25, 2006

The Day After

I'll admit it. I was disappointed by the number of people who came to Shelter from the Storm. I'm not going to begin to dissect the whys of it all, for I've realized that's not what's important.

What's important is that we touched people's lives. There were those who walked the labyrinth (wish I'd had time to do that!). There were those whose prayers are now in the hands of our community. There were some who needed someone to talk with about their hurricane experience. There were some who simply needed to know who to contact for resources.

And the worship? The worship service was awesome! I was worried that we might get rain. Pfft! God took care of that and the weather was nigh perfect. Oddly enough, for a service like this, I believe it went off without a hitch. Our speakers were uplifting, even when talking about crisis, and no one got carried away and tried to speak for hours. The choirs were joyous! The liturgical dancers expressed so much so beautifully. Paul's song, written especially for the service, was bang-on. It was the perfect finale for the service.

And I believe God smiled. Those of us on stage couldn't see it during the service, but the sky became the most beautiful shades of red and purple as the sun set. Awesome!!

We swung for the hills, and missed. And yet, we didn't. It would have been incredible if the congregation had been in the thousands instead of the couple of hundred who were there. However, if we hadn't swung for the hills, the message of hope for the many might have been missed.

On the front page of the Beaumont Enterprise today, above the fold, was a marvelous picture of someone adding to our prayer wall. Below that is a picture of our Interfaith clergy holding hands and praying together before the worship service. The article speaks of the faith and hope we share as a result of our common experience in Rita, and the healing we've shared as a community.

The Enterprise reaches about 60,000 people, people who also need a message of faith, hope, and community. I'm not sure we would have been particularly 'newsworthy' if we had taken the safer route and sought a smaller venue.

What I do know is that God was in the midst of this from the moment of conception to its culmination. I have worked with an awesome group of people over the past few months, who helped to make Shelter from the Storm an experience to remember with satisfaction and comfort and hope for the future. Wouldn't it be incredible if this was the kernel which grew into a fully flourishing interfaith group in this community? Who knows what God has in store for the future?

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Calm Before the ...

... Shelter from the Storm?

Well, I'm about as ready as it's possible for me to be at this moment. You do have to realize that I don't have everything done for tomorrow. I'm not hard-wired with an 'early' gene. Before I head for bed tonight, I'll be 99% ready, but there will certainly be something forgotten on the list. *chuckle*

It has been an interesting journey to this point. Waaaaaaaaay outside my comfort zone for most of the trek. For a time, it felt as though I was a 'voice crying in the wilderness'. My heart recognized a need for our community to worship together, and others would agree with me when I brought it up, but that's all the further the conversation would go.

I came mighty close to capitulating (at several points, actually). That is, until Ron Franscell showed up at the church office bearing a book: In the Wake of Disaster:Religious Responses to Terrorism & Catastrophe by Harold G. Koenig, M.D. Thanks, Ron!! The chapters in that book affirmed that feeling in my heart that kept poking and prodding me to pursue an Interfaith worship service.

With a vote from the Southeast Texas Interfaith Organization for Disaster Recovery approving pursuit of such a venture, I began to gather a committee to bring things into being. *chuckle* I'm not sure that throughout the process we ever had the exact same group of people involved. At times it's been much like herding cats being chased by dogs. God works in mysterious ways. We've always had the right people at the right time, though.

There has been a wonderful, creative core group present, pulling ideas together to make the experience a healing and helpful event. It's hard to put into words the beautiful things which have happened as we've worked together over the past few months.

We've run into a variety of obstacles along the way, even up to yesterday. What worthwhile goal doesn't? I told someone yesterday that the devil's been nipping at our heels all along the way, and each time I thought we'd land on our keisters, some miracle has arrived out of nowhere to keep us on our feet.

I'm still in 'how on earth did I get here?' mode. A certain level of bullheaded and stubbornness is part of it; however, it's somewhat uncharacteristic for me. Well, not the bullheaded and stubborn part really, but the taking on of a fairly visible role in a project which could involve people from 3 counties and culminate in an event that might have thousands of people attending. I've never done anything like this before. Scary stuff!

So was the publicity part of it. Let's see... I've now done a live radio show and Live at 5 (no taping to fall back on ACK!) and survived. Would prefer not to do that again. *chuckle* ahhhhhhhh, growth. I have certainly been stretched by this experience.

And here we sit. It's Saturday evening. There's some thunder rumbling, and it rained just a bit ago. (Ok, God! Let's send that stuff someplace else for tomorrow!) In completely uncharacteristic manner, I'm not on tenterhooks at this moment. Not sure whether that's a good thing or not. Who knows what I'll be like tomorrow?

I'm just going to do what I've been doing all along - trust that God's been in the midst of this and it will be blessed whatever the outcome! Now I'm off to put the finishing touches to tomorrow morning's worship service (yep! still have that to do, too!). Later, all!

Monday, September 18, 2006

Studio 60

Well - I just took my last break until after the 24th. Deep breath. From here on in, I think I'll be eating, sleeping, and everything-else-ing Shelter from the Storm. So, what did I do with my break?

It's the start of a new TV season, and I just had to give Sorkin's new show a look-see. Pilots generally leave me feeling ambivalent, and this one was no exception. There's just so much setup that has to happen, background, character establishing (at least the baseline stuff) that they often end up being a bit pedantic.

At this point, you'll probably find me watching Studio 60 next Monday. I came close to writing it off, though. There was just too much murky in the beginning and I had trouble connecting the who's who with their significance. The moment that cinched it for me, though, was Matt running down the alley to tell-off the network muckety-mucks because he thought they were blackmailing Danny into taking the job ... fade to commercial as Danny tries to catch up with him to head him off at the pass.

Of course, with Sorkin at the helm, it'll be hard to escape the expectations that the success of The West Wing raises. I loved WW and mourned its loss of focus when Sorkin left the show. I'm willing to give Studio 60 the benefit of the doubt at the moment. Here's hoping that it will live up to its potential.

Now for a momentary rant - What's with Time Warner Cable and the new CW station? Here I thought I was going to be able to regularly watch a show I enjoy, Veronica Mars, and the local TWC affiliate isn't able to work out a deal to keep the CW on the air. *sigh*

It's not fatal. I'll still live and thrive. I'm not truly addicted; however, the sound in the background is a good distraction if you can find something at least semi-interesting to listen to/watch. (I do tend to listen more than actually watch.) It's just a bit irritating, that's all.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Oxymoron?

Two posts in one day. I know, but I couldn't pass this up and was afraid I'd forget.

Perusing the Houston Chronicle, I was reading an article on Houston finally approving a SuperShuttle agreement when I came across the following quote:

"Houston, one of the only large cities in the country without the service"

Doubletake!!

If it is one of "the only" large city (I know - it says 'cities', but how can you have 'the only' be plural?), then how can there be more than enough for Houston to be "one of"? Should it not be something like "one of only a few"?

Neighbors

"Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself." (Mark 12:30-31 NIV) The Ten Commandments in a nutshell. The prickly part becomes "Who is my neighbor?"

The Maori have a greeting ritual called the hongi, where the greeters press noses together. The essence of the hongi is not that noses touch, but that each breathes into themselves part of the other. The air I breathe out becomes part of the air you breathe in. Your neighbor, in fact, becomes a part of yourself.

I wonder what the world would be like if we realized that each person we encounter - family, friend, stranger, or foe - now carries within them just the tiniest bit of us and that we carry within us a part of them. If we recognized that bit of each other in ourselves, perhaps we could treat each other with the respect, dignity, and support we ourselves would want. then our lives would indeed be richly blessed, wouldn't they, neighbor?

Monday, September 11, 2006

Remind Me ...

... to never again fold 600 letters by hand! *chuckle*

I'm now using a partial hunt-and-peck method to type because my poor thumb is so sore. And I hate hunt-and-peck. But it's all in a good cause.

The letters were sent out to all area churches today for the"Shelter from the Storm" Hurricane Rita anniversary event. We're heading down to the final days of preparation. Here's hoping that everything falls into place and goes as planned. I'm hitting that panic-point which is par for the course for me. Pray for those of us who are putting this together!

... to always take time, no matter how nutty the world gets, to play Bunko with friends.

There's a wonderful group of ladies who get together monthly for dinner and a friendly game of Bunko. I'd never heard of Bunko until I came to Beaumont, but it's a simple game and doesn't tax one's mental resources. (which is good for me on Mondays, when I'm basically a useless human being) I only play as a substitute, and truly enjoy the opportunities I've had to join in the fun.

What's wonderful about this group is that they care about each other and simply enjoy spending time together. Usually there're at least one or two hiliarious moments leading to some good belly laughs. Since Mondays are my Sabbath, this is a blessing and quite an opportunity for re-creation!

... that although much has changed, other things have remained the same.

I have family and friends (both long-time and brand new) who are supportive in so many ways. I continue to be encouraged to move outside of my comfort zone and try new things (sometimes kicking and screaming, sometimes ending up in the midst of them without really being certain how I got there, sometimes even jumping into them enthusiastically). My furred friend Penny still greets me at the door, while my PsychoKat continues to drive my Mom crazy as she tries to make her bed!

I continue to love my chosen profession (hmmmm....profession chosen for me?). The people I work with are uplifting and make me smile. In the midst of things that aren't normal, so much that is good continues to happen.

... that I am richly blessed and have much to be thankful for!

Monday, September 04, 2006

A Telethon Curmudgeon

Call me a curmudgeon. I totally dislike the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon.

It's not the cause which is the problem, even though I've decided to give my funds elsewhere. People with Muscular Dystrophy truly are deserving of such devoted support. I do know that each year the researchers get closer and that's a good thing.

I think my problem is two-fold.

First, I got burned out when I had to work the freaking telethon year after year at the skating rink, and, of course, the tv was turned to the telethon. Inane (well, what do you expect from Jerry Lewis?), repetitious, and the hyped up announcements of the amounts pledged every so many minutes.........don't get me started!!

Second, and this one is the bigger one for me now, there are so many other diseases/disabilities out there which are deserving of equivalent treatment. Yet they don't get the same amount of airtime, visibility, support that MDA does. Of course, if they did, we'd be having a telethon every weekend and compassion fatigue would turn the money fountain to a leaky faucet.

I realize that the MDA telethon has become a Labor Day staple, and probably won't be dislodged unless some miracle brings about a complete cure for those suffering with Muscular Dystrophy. So I guess I'll just have to continue to be a grumpy curmudgeon on Labor Day weekend ... and, of course, boycott the show.

Yet, wouldn't it be something of wonder if Jerry Lewis would lend his name and gravitas to supporting a different disease/disability each year, to open up the hearts of people to the needs of other equally deserving victims?

Hurricane Days

All right, already! It's been almost a year now. You'd think it'd be easy to just get back to "normal" and let go of the effects of Her Horribleness. It should be ... shouldn't it?

Maybe. .................................... Well, not necessarily.

The thing is, we're facing an anniversary date this month: the day that Hurricane Rita came through and knocked Southeast Texas silly. Anniversary dates of traumatic events are strange creatures. For some people, they are non-events. For others, the opposite occurs and it is almost as though the experience happened yesterday. And still others find themselves somewhere in the middle.

Her Horribleness displaced thousands of us in so many different ways, and turned many lives upside down. I'm still not home, and maybe that's not a bad thing (although I really want to get back home). For those whose homes have been repaired, it is a bit easier to slip back into "everything's normal" mode and not see the homes and businesses that are still awaiting repair or may never be repaired, not see all of the blue (and brown and black) tarps still covering roofs with gaping holes in them, not be aware of the upheaval in lives that have been permanently changed.

There are still literally thousands of homes in Southeast Texas that haven't been fixed yet. The SETIO repair request list alone is over 1,000 names long. Some for lack of funds. Others just waiting in line for the next available (fill in the repair type needed).

And broken houses are not the only type of displacement people are experiencing. Individual situations have changed significantly for so many, and it can be difficult to adapt to the necessary changes. They are disorienting, especially when one has had to leave a beloved familiar place or move forward without a loved one in one's life.

I've recently experienced what I've decided to call "hurricane days". Earlier this week, I found myself feeling, oh!, I guess stuck is a good word for it. There were things I knew I needed to do, and I could even think of the steps I needed to take to accomplish them, but I couldn't for the life of me manage to get my brain out of park and actually do any of them. It was as though I were disconnected, mind from body.

What a relief it was to pick up a resource on anniversary date reactions and discover that what I was experiencing was not unexpected! Here's what one study had to say: "It takes much longer than a few months to truly begin to make peace with the past and turn to the future. In their study of loss and mourning, Zunin and Zunin (1991) found that the lives of the bereaved may still be strongly affected a year and a half to three years later."

Other things people might be experiencing about now: (a) memories, dreams, thoughts and feelings that are vivid with some possibly seeming as though they happened yesterday; (b) grief, sadness, and regret (In fact, some people may have been so involved with the practicalities of recovery and rebuilding that they may not have had time to grieve themselves); (c) fear, anxiety, and stress may return (How many of us began to feel a bit tense when the early projections for Ernesto put him headed toward us as a pretty strong storm?); (d) avoidance - Oh! It's just another day. (Nothing inherently wrong in that. It's useful to be aware, though, that others may not have the same type of reaction.); and (e) reflection - taking a look at what's happened and incorporating it into our lives.

We all go through this process of incorporating significant, yes - traumatic, change into our lives in different ways. As we walk through the days ahead, perhaps it would be wise to be aware of how those we encounter may have been impacted by this life-changing storm and honor the ways each of us react to this signficant date in our lives.


I know that I'm going to be a bit more aware of what's happening in my own life, and labeling it for others, as necessary. So, if you see me just sitting there, speaking randomly disconnected thoughts, all I ask is that you treat me gently. "Hurricane days" are hell.