Iowa Trip

Danish Windmill in Elkhorn, Iowa

One of the Bridges of Madison County, Iowa.

"Land, freedom, and hope. In the narrow stony valleys of Norway and the heavily taxed towns of Saxony and Westphalia, in Ukrainian villages bled by the recruiting officers of the czars and Bohemian farms that had been owned and tilled for generations by the same families; land, freedom, and hope meant much the same thing in the last quarter of the nineteenth century: America.

(all quotes in this blog from "The Children's Blizzard" by David Laskin)

John Wayne's Birthplace in Winterset, Iowa

And so they came as steerage passengers, packed into unventilated bunk rooms below decks where they slept on boards side by side with 650 other immigrants, all dreaming of a new life in the mid-west and the plains of America. Evidence of their courage, imagination, and ambition is present everywhere we traveled. In towns like Winterset, Keota, Elkhorn, and Villisca where Mary's mother lives. In the countryside one sees vast fields and rooster tails of dust as farmers hurry to till and plant before the Spring rains make it impossible to get into the fields. Many are working the same land that their great grandparents settled in the 19th century.

Postoffice in Nodaway, Iowa

"The Homestead Act, signed into law by Abraham Lincoln in 1862, was the first color-blind, sex-blind equal opportunity piece of legislation on the American books. White or black, male or female, foreign born or native born, it made no difference. As long as you were twenty-one or older, could muster $18 for the filing fee, and lived on the land and farmed it for five years, 160 acres was yours. "

Mary, John, and I flew into Chicago on April 18th and then drove across Iowa to Villisca where she grew up and where her mother, Bette, 80, still resides. We saw freshly planted fields, budding trees, and blooming flowers. We accompanied Bette to the Senior center where she serves lunch daily, to the Nursing home where she serves the afternoon snack, and to church on Sunday morning followed by a community dinner at the community center. John was invited to play piano and harmonica and sing at each of the venues. It was wonderful to see how proud Grandma was of her talented Grandson. We ate to much, sat on the front step and waved to everyone who went by (that's what you do in small town, USA), read, went for walks in the evening, attended the "walk-in" for the High school prom, and I even got in an afternoon of fishing at a farm pond filled with hungry bass. We drove to Keota on the 24th to visit Mary's brother and then on to Chicago to fly home on the 25th. I really enjoyed taking "blue highways" across the state and visiting the small towns. Enjoy the photos.John entertaining at Nursing HomeMary and John at "R's Place" in Western IllinoisCatching a big one in a farm pond

Holy Week Images

Here is a great quote to begin a new week no matter what challenges you might be facing.

Somehow I can't believe there are any heights that can't be scaled by a man (or woman) who knows the secret of making dreams come true. This special secret, it seems to me, can be summarized in four C's. They are Curiosity, Confidence, Courage, and Constancy and the greatest of these is Confidence. When you believe a thing, believe it all the way, implicitly and unquestionably.

Walt Disney

Mr. Disney certainly demonstrated the truth of these words in his own life. Think about all the people who have experienced happy moments because of his vision and confidence. This week I will be reading, studying, experiencing, and sharing the events of this week that we call Holy. Through those events I encounter one whose vision and confidence transformed the world. With faith in the One whose footsteps we trace this week we can face whatever challenges lie ahead. See more contemporary images of Jesus like the one below by clicking here.

Virginia is for Lovers!

The state of Virginia has been using the motto, Virginia is for Lovers, for 37 years. We discovered on a recent trip that Virginia is a place for people who love history, airplanes, and good food. Mary and I celebrated my 61st birthday on Saturday, March 25th, by running away from home. We took an early morning flight that got us into Dulles International airport before 8 am. After a delicious breakfast at the IHOP we made our way to The National Air and Space Museum's Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. What an awesome museum housed in a aviation hanger that is 10 stories high and the length of three football fields. The planes displayed include the B-29 Superfortress Enola Gray, the Air France Concorde, and the Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird. Also on display is the Space Shuttle Enterprise along with various rockets telling the story of space exploration. We spent a fascinating three hours wandering through the hanger and experiencing an IMAX movie that put us in the cockpit of an F15-Eagle.
Our next stop was an Arts and Crafts Festival that was in a building almost as big as the Air and Space museum. Hundreds of artisans displayed their creative products that included photography, quilts, woodwork, hand crafted furniture, jewelry, paintings, and hand woven baskets. It was like being in a very eclectic gallery for over two hours. Now exhausted we checked into our hotel and took naps. In the evening we had supper at The Potbelly Sandwich Works where we had old fashioned milkshakes and delicious sandwiches while listening to acoustic guitar played by a fella sitting in the loft above our heads. Check out their web site to find a Potbelly near you. We concluded my "birthday" day by seeing a movie at an enormous theatre in Fairfax. (Why is everything so large in Virginia?) The movie was the new Spike Lee film, Inside Man, starring Denzel Washington and Jodie Foster. This is the first "commercial" film that Spike Lee has made and it has many of his unique trademarks. Denzel gives a very laid back performance that brings a lightness and humor to what is a very intense story. It was a fine ending to a very busy and exciting day.
The next day we treated ourselves to the Sunday Brunch Buffet at the Blue Iguana in Fairfax. Omelets made to order, fresh sliced turkey and roast beef, waffles, fresh fruit, seafood pasta, and more. So elegant and so good. Then we were off to George Washington's home, Mount Vernon. American history came alive as we stood on the very floor that Washington stood on when he received news that he would be the first president of the United States. Even more significant, for me, was to stand next to the chair that he sat in when he decided to give up the presidency so that it would not turn into a monarchy. Thank God for the vision and courage of this man and his colleagues. It was a great trip and a lovely way to celebrate a birthday.

Ah Spring!

It was the first Sunday of April and granddaughter, Kaylyn, climbed a tree with a good book. The warm sunshine, chirping birds, and awakening earth encourages us to go beyond the ordinary and explore new possibilities. They call it "Spring Fever", this urge to escape the shackles of winter and embrace the promise of new life and new adventures. In his book, Guerrillas of Grace, Ted Loder prays the following.

It is spring, Lord.

and my blood runs warm with the song of the sap.

longing

for a beauty I would become.

And there is the mystery

and the smile of it.

The buds are swelling on the bush,

the sun is beginning to coax the color

from where it's been curled against the cold,

the air is sweet to the nostrils;

even the city seems to be rubbing its eyes

from a long sleep.

It is spring, Lord,

and something stirs in me,

reaching, stretching,

groping for words,

peeking through my defenses,

beckoning in my laughter,

riding on past my fears,

pulsing in my music.

Ah Spring!

Laptop withdrawal

I had to take my Toshiba laptop to the computer hospital. It has been "locking up" at the most inopportune times, like during a power point presentation. She, I think of the computer as female, has also been sporting a white vertical line on the screen and recently produced a high pitched screech when I turned her on. I have labeled the laptop as female because 1) I need her and desire her 2) She cooperates with me only to a certain point and 3) I appear smarter than I am when she helps me. I also feel lost without her. I keep going to the backpack to take her out to find that she is not there. I miss her terribly. So I have decided to run off with the most important female in my life, my spouse, for a few days. We will rest, enjoy each others' company, disengage from our hectic schedules and try not to think of deadlines, appointments, and sick computers.

The Madness of March

The madness of March extends far beyond the NCAA tournament that began this past Thursday. Like the tournament, the weather for March is predicted in the midst of uncertainty and upsets. Here in upstate New York this March has been typically irregular, irrational, and irresistible. It began not like the predicted lion but more like an irritable house cat with snow showers and a high of 29 degrees. Then March struck her seductive pose on the 10th when we basked in sunshine and 66 degrees. The following days brought summer like storms with driving rains, booming thunder, flashes of lightening, and widespread power outages, then temperatures dived back down below freezing and we experienced snow squalls that caused white-outs on the interstate. The madness of March disturbs my fragile equilibrium. Shakes my emotional foundation. Fractures my superficial sense of security. March backs me into the corner of my life where faith lives, where I trust in the one who promises “that for everything there is a season”. So, despite all evidence to the contrary, I believe that Spring is just around the corner.
I am not the first to struggle with the insanity of March. In Ancient Rome, March was called Martius, named after the Roman god of war and it was the first month of the year in the ancient calendar. (I guess that way, things could only get better.) I like the name the Ancient Britons gave it, “hyld-monath” which means very loud or strong. But back to Ancient Rome, where the month was filled with celebrations. one of which ended with a nine day fast, followed by a blood-letting by the priests of Cybele (a fertility goddess) and then two days of rest. Modern culture has replaced all that craziness with Mardi Gras, St. Patrick’s Day, March Madness, etc.. I recently discovered that this is also National Optimism Month. OK then, I choose to be optimistic, to have faith that spring will arrive, and that the One who “holds me in the palm of His hand” has a firm grip even in the madness of March.

Apocalypse Now?

I suppose that in the land that gave us Hot Pockets it was just a matter of time before someone would come up with this gastronomic delight. Why not combine fast foods' artery clogging bacon cheeseburger with a Krispy Kreme donut? You will be able to bite into this culinary creation at the GMC Stadium in Sauget, Ill., home of the Gateway Grizzlies, a minor league baseball team. They are calling it Baseball's Best Burger. I guess they might have to change the words to Take Me Out To The Ball Game to "buy me some peanuts and this burger and I may never get back". The press release describes it this way;

"The burger...consists of a thick and juicy burger topped with sharp cheddar cheese and two slices of bacon. The burger is then placed in between each side of a Krispy Kreme Original Glazed doughnut."

I will be planning a road trip this summer to experience baseball and this ballpark delicacy.

Chicken Joke

This was my laugh for a Monday morning. I found it on Chuck Sigars' blog.

A guy walks into a restaurant, sits down, examines the menu for a few minutes, then asks the waiter, "How do you prepare your chickens?"
"Well, usually, sir," the waiter replies, "we just tell them right off that they're all gonna die."

Honest and direct communication is best!

Celebrating 39 years of Marriage!

This Saturday will mark 39 years since Mary Linda Roberts and I began our marriage journey together. At that time a postage stamp cost just 5 cents and a gallon of regular gas was 33 cents. In 1967 the median household income was less than 8,000 dollars and you could buy a new home for about $25,000. LBJ was president and our cities were exploding with racial tension. The year Mary and I married both PBS and Rolling Stone were born. It was a great year for movies; The Graduate, Bonnie and Clyde, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, In The Heat of the Night, and Cool Hand Luke (one of my all time favorites). Frank Sinatra and The Beatles were fighting it out on the airwaves with Frank's Strangers in the Night winning record of the year and the Beatles Michelle being honored for song of the year. Dr. Christiann N. Barnard and his team of South African surgeons performed the first successful human heart transplant on Louis Washkansky. Mr. Waskansky, a dentist, was 54 years old and he died 18 days later. The median life expectancy in 1967 was 70.5 years.
Thirty nine years has brought a lot of change in the world and, as evidenced by the photographs, in us. We have experienced the birth of 4 children and 4 grandchildren and the adoption of another child. We have been through the celebrations of the marriages and the pain of divorces with our sons and daughters. At age 30 I began an 8 year educational journey that culminated in the ordained ministry. We have experienced the deaths of three parents and one sibling. Almost four decades of laughter and tears, joys and sorrows, successes and failures. Over 250,000 meals, 13,235 days and nights, at least 25,000 kisses (minimum 2 per day), and over 2,000 arguments (about one per week).
So, what have I learned in these seasons of love totaling twenty million four hundred ninety seven thousand and four hundred minutes? I think the lessons of a good marriage can be best summed up by the words of Antione Saint-Exupert which appear on a scrap of paper that I recently took out of my wallet and taped on the bookcase in my study.

Love does not consist in gazing at each other

but in looking outward together in the same direction.With great joy and gratitude I celebrate with Mary thirty nine years of shared values.

A Real Superstar!

Sometimes in sports something happens that is truly a celebration of the human spirit. The story of Jason McElwain and his four minutes of super stardom is a shining example. If you haven't seen this video yet, enjoy. Click here. What I like most about it is the reaction of Jason's classmates.

Sleeping on a futon in Vermont

There are days you can't ever forget. It doesn't mean that anything really startling has to happen. There you are in the midst of life, and one of those days comes rolling at you, and it is just like one of the magical days of childhood, like the first Monday after school is out. (John D. MacDonald in "The Empty Copper Sea)

The ideal vacation is when you can connect a few of those kind of days together. Our mid-winter vacation in Vermont has been such an experience. We have spent 4 days playing with grandchild Noah, wandering the streets of Montpelier, visiting a children's museum, shopping at a bakery store, and sleeping on a futon. On Thursday we had lunch at the Coffee Corner in Montpelier where I enjoyed a Belgian waffle with blackberries and whipped cream. Montpelier is the smallest state capital in the country and I have always enjoyed visiting. I especially appreciate the four bookstores within a block of each other. Friday we took an hour drive south to Norwich. After a brief stop at the King Arthur Flour-The Bakery Store we visited the Montshire Museum of Science. This was a "hands-on" and "kid-friendly" experience of blowing bubbles, making fog, being photographed by a "heat camera," and learning about ants and moose. It was an engaging time for the "kid" in all of us. Today, Saturday, a gentle snow has fallen since morning covering everything with about 4" of the beautiful white stuff. This morning I accompanied Noah and his parents to his music class where we sang and danced and played instruments with about a dozen other families. The leader had a fine voice as she played guitar and shared her enthusiasm with us.

Saturday evening we dined on catfish, salmon, and BBQ chicken with sides of spinach, potato salad, and corn bread at The River Run Restaurant in Plainfield. While there we met, Anne Clark, the Super Nanny of Vermont. Anne said she watched the television show and thought; "I can do that" and so she does. Each evening we kiss Noah goodnight, play cards, read, then crawl back onto the futon following another day that I will always remember.

Grace in the Darkness

Our area is beginning to rebound from a destructive wind-storm which plunged over 300,000 families into the dark and cold of February this past Friday. Even today, five days later, 1,400 households remain without power. It was a strange experience to drive through the towns of Saratoga and Ballston Spa over the weekend. Usually bustling stores and restaurants sat empty along the quiet streets and sidewalks as people huddled around woodstoves, fireplaces, and kerosene heaters. Many spent the weekend with nearby family and friends. Isn't it interesting how the removal of the conveniences of our age give folks the rare opportunity to be together, to share, and to converse without the distractions of our modern technology?
As I drove the streets of this alien and powerless world I was impressed by how responsible and courteous everyone was behaving. At four way intersections, the stop lights hung lifeless, lightless, and useless. Drivers, no longer able to depend on an outside authority to determine safe passage, began to acknowledge one another. As I stopped at an intersection I noticed that people made eye contact with one another, communicating with strangers through nods, waves, and smiles. There was a courtesy born of necessity that was very refreshing. People were taking responsibility for not only their own safe passage but also the safety of others. The absence of the working stop-lights did not create anarchy but something resembling grace. An acknowledgement of the rights of the other and an acceptance that we are all in this world together. As St. Paul wrote, ...we're all connected to one another after all. (Ephesians 4:25)

Communication can be difficult!

Found this on Dave Barry's Blog and it gave me a morning laugh. I hope it does the same for you. As Dave says, "OK it's an ad but it's a funny ad". Click Here.

Life at 100!

Can you imagine living to 100 years of age? Evidently many cannot. A friend who does public speaking said that he often asks an adult audience, How many of you would like to live to your 100th birthday? He has been surprised to see that very few, if any, raise their hands. It would seem that the fear of failing health and a declining life style outweighs the hope for longevity. The reality is that some studies have revealed that as many as 15% of those living to be 100 are still living independently. Neenah Ellis spent years interviewing centenarians for a radio series on National Public Radio's Morning Edition in 2000 called "One Hundred Years of Stories." The book, If I Live to be 100 is the story of that life changing and life enhancing experience.
In it she interviews centenarain Harry Shapiro and his wife, Celia, at their home in Washington Heights. I found his words about life and death very thought provoking.
"I'd like another lifetime in the arts. I'd like to plead to the old man. Give me another chance. I still believe in God."
"Do you think about what will happen after you die?"
"I'll be around in some shape or manner. I may be a flash of light, a luminosity. Sometimes, when I watch television, a luminous something comes from my eyes, something comes out of me. I don't know what that is. A light will bulge out of my eyes. Maybe that's the soul, I don't know. We all have a soul, there's no doubt about it. Where He is, what He's made of, I don't know. He might be electricity, a force of nature. I know there is something that holds this mystery together. I pray before I start painting and while I'm working on it. That's why I want another lifetime." Then the author describes this beautiful scene. Sometimes in the afternoon Harry and Celia take a nap together, lie together in bed and listen to music, holding hands. Isn't that a beautiful image of contentment and peace.?
At the end of the story, Harry passes on this advice. "You know what I think prolongs life? Art and music. Beyond that, it is to have a heart full of love. That is the most important thing." If you are planning to make the century mark I don't think you can go wrong by adopting Harry's priorities. What do you think, are you going for 100 years? I think I'll give it a try.

The Strangest Winter Festival Yet!

All across the northern part of the United States communities have come up with creative ways to not only survive the cold months but to celebrate them. The festivals include various activities such as ice sculpting, snow man competitions, racing on ice, swimming in frigid water, etc.. I believe the Town of Nederland, Colorado, located in the Rocky Mountains at 8,236 feet above sea level, has created the most unique winter festival of all. This year they will celebrate the 5th Annual Frozen Dead Guy Days with coffin races, a cryonic parade, a costume ball where you can come dressed as frozen or dead, and a pancake breakfast. Their web site claims that media from around the world come to cover this unique winter festival. Check out the site to learn about the history of this testament to the creativity of one community.

Happy Valentines Day!

We received a lovely hand-made Valentines greeting with a hand painted heart on the cover from my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson in Vermont. In it they write, "Something extra wonderful happens in our area on Valentines day, something that truly amazes us in its simple yet effective message. In the early hours of Valentines Day, some secret person decorates the City of Montpelier with thousands of paper hearts-so as one walks down the streets on Valentines morning, love is truly in the air." What a beautiful image that is. Might we so "love one another" today and everyday that love would be truly "in the air". You can find out more about this unique tradition by clicking on the link to the Lat. 42N blog here.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

Well it finally feels like winter. After experiencing the warmest January in memory, with temperatures reaching the fifties, we are now chilled by temperatures struggling to get out of the teens. The weathermen are now forecasting the possibility of a true Nor'easter this weekend.
Oh, be still my heart. I yearn for the snow storms of my chilhood. School canceled, schedules out the window, road blocked by drifts that looked like sand dunes in the Sahara. Snow piled so high that my friends and I would leap off the roof of the chicken house with wild abandon and plunge so deep in the snow that others would have to pull us out so that we could do it all again. We would have sledding races that began up on the hill next to the barn, then sweep down through the gate, around the old barn foundation, past the out buildings, between the house and garage, and finally out onto the snow covered road. There would be five, six, maybe seven of us; all speeding down the hill at the same time, imagining we were future olympians. Exhausted and exhilarated we would come into the kitchen, our snow covered and dripping boots, jackets, and hats left on the porch; Mom would pour the hot chocolate into the big white mugs that were usually reserved for the adults coffee. Our frost bitten fingers would throb with a delicious pain as the heat penetrated our frozen exteriors. Now, our faces a ruddy red, we would take the Monopoly game down from the shelf and begin a competition that would last for hours. We would listen to WPTR on the radio. They would be broadcasting from a remote live location down at the four corners in the village. It was only a mile from us but might have well been on the other side of the word because we were most assuredly "snowed in". The radio station would promote crazy contests like inviting young women to show up in a bikini in the midst of the blizzard. We would laugh and fantasize about older girls from school in such apparel. Once the sun went down we would go outside again, the storm over, moonlight glistening off the snow. Dad would warm up maple syrup and we would pour it on the fresh fallen snow and have instant candy.
Oh, how I long for a snow like the one imagined in Robert Frost's famous poem. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Ziggy makes me smile

If you didn't catch the Ziggy comic strip on Sunday, check it out by clicking here. http://www.ucomics.com/ziggy/2006/02/05/ The divine is whispering to our souls all the time if we just open our ears and eyes.

Jack Johnson Connects

One of the simple joys in life is to be introduced to a new author or musician that really connects with your values. The musings and music of Jack Johnson have become that kind of gift for me. I first read about him in an article in the January issue of Men's Journal which I received as a Christmas gift. I discovered that he has released three albums-Brushfire Fairytales, On and On, and In Between Dreams-that have sold seven million copies worldwide. Most recently, he has been writing songs for the upcoming Ron Howard animated film, Curious George. His success aside, Jack seems to have remained grounded in his life and values. The article reported that "After nearly five years of solid work, Jack plans to spend the next couple of years recharging, devoting his time to his wife and their young boy, who's nearly two. Fifty years from now he'd rather be treated like his Dad is treated, as a pillar of this community, rather than as a former superstar. "This is the center of my universe," he says. "Everyone has that spot, the spot where you feel most comfortable. Like sitting under this tree, or hanging out on my parents' front porch." It was so refreshing to read about an artist who is not driven by popularity and adoration of fans.
My favorite songs of the moment are "Breakdown" which compares life to a crosscountry train ride and he sings, "I need this here old train to breakdown, oh please just let me please breakdown" and "I want to break on down but I can't stop now, And I got no time that I got to get to where I don't need to be." I am also enjoying "Good People" as he sings, "Where'd all the good people go? I've been changing channels, I don't see them on the tv shows." Both of these songs are on the "In Between Dreams" cd. Here is a link to a music video of his song, "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing".