Most people have some appreciation for the limitless awkwardness of the teenage boy, and although my experience is mainly with teenagers on the younger end of the spectrum, once in a while I again become aware of the nervousness of the older variety.
This first came to mind yesterday in the elevator in the Comm Ave garage. I was taking the elevator up from 3 (where my car was) to 7, and when I got in there were two undergrads who appeared to be bypassing the stairs by taking the elevator from 1 to 7.
Elevators are awkward for everyone, regardless of age, regardless of gender. Think of all the times you have been standing very close to someone and just stared at the floor, to scared to make eye contact. Or worse (and this is more often the case for me), you said something that landed with a thud on the ears of your elevatormates, and the only thing you could hear in your ears for the rest of the ride was your own voice saying something dumb.
The three of us survived the elevator ride and exited onto the roof of the garage into bright sunlight and spitting rain. I read enough Rainbow Brite books in my day to know what was coming next, and I looked around for the inevitable rainbow. I found it over my right shoulder, a perfect half-circle shooting brightly across the sky.
I had booked out of the elevator in a hurry, so my two elevator friends were still behind me. When I saw the rainbow and saw that they were still right behind me I shouted "Look!" They wouldn't look, and this was when I started to get a little perturbed. What can I say? I'm used to being obeyed. So I shouted again, even louder "LOOK!!!"
They did, and one of them started talking to me -a lot - about how great the rainbow was. Then he blew it, saying "Did you just happen to be looking around and saw the rainbow?" Then I blew it, by responding, incredulous at his not knowing the fundamentals of rainbows, "No...It was sunny...and raining...so I knew there would be a rainbow."
A blog post can not adequately communicate my terribly dismissive tone-of-voice, but trust me when I tell you that we went awkward for awkward yesterday afternoon.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
still looking for something to do this weekend?
Tickets are still available for the Saturday night performance of Gianni Schicchi and Suor Angelica. I sing Saturday, but if you can't make it then come tonight to see the other cast!
www.bostonoperacollaborative.org
www.bostonoperacollaborative.org
on guilt
Yesterday I paid for a $5 drink with a $10 bill. The bartender gave me back $15 in change. So I gave the ten back.
I have been thinking recently about 'guilt', particularly of the "Catholic guilt" variety. I generally am annoyed when people make jokes about "Catholic guilt", because overall I don't find guilt to be a terrible thing. It tells us when we have done something wrong. It ensures altruistic behavior. I think people often imagine Catholic guilt as just enough guilt to feel bad about having done something, but not enough to not do it in the first place. Still, for most people I know, guilt (or the prospect of it) is what keeps us on the straight and narrow, doing the right thing for the people around us.
I will admit, sometimes I can take the idea a little too far. I had a professor once who said "I hope this generation has guilt about justice the way my generation had guilt about sex", and I fall prey to extensive scrupulosity when issues of finances and divvying up of resources come up. In short: I feel guilty about having too much.
Many of you know the saga of the cellphone. Broken, then replaced, then I was given a hand-me-down, then charger stolen, etc. Yesterday the gift-phone started acting up, and my first thought was "this is what I deserve for using a phone that I didn't pay for". That is quite obviously hogwash, but I know for sure that if I had kept that $10 last night I would now be blaming any number of mishaps on some post-modern amalgam of karma and divine punishment (neither of which I believe in - consciously).
A few weeks ago I went to a wedding and shared a room with two female friends. They went up to bed about an hour before I did, so they decided to share one of the full-sized beds so that I wouldn't wake either up them up when I came up. This meant, of course, that I had the other bed to myself. When I woke up in the morning I still had slept as if I were sharing the bed, crammed all the way over to one side with the other side barely disturbed. That is the essence of Catholic guilt, at least for me: Feeling so wrong about having more than my share that I won't indulge in all of it, even though no one else benefits from my sacrifice and I did nothing wrong.
I have been thinking recently about 'guilt', particularly of the "Catholic guilt" variety. I generally am annoyed when people make jokes about "Catholic guilt", because overall I don't find guilt to be a terrible thing. It tells us when we have done something wrong. It ensures altruistic behavior. I think people often imagine Catholic guilt as just enough guilt to feel bad about having done something, but not enough to not do it in the first place. Still, for most people I know, guilt (or the prospect of it) is what keeps us on the straight and narrow, doing the right thing for the people around us.
I will admit, sometimes I can take the idea a little too far. I had a professor once who said "I hope this generation has guilt about justice the way my generation had guilt about sex", and I fall prey to extensive scrupulosity when issues of finances and divvying up of resources come up. In short: I feel guilty about having too much.
Many of you know the saga of the cellphone. Broken, then replaced, then I was given a hand-me-down, then charger stolen, etc. Yesterday the gift-phone started acting up, and my first thought was "this is what I deserve for using a phone that I didn't pay for". That is quite obviously hogwash, but I know for sure that if I had kept that $10 last night I would now be blaming any number of mishaps on some post-modern amalgam of karma and divine punishment (neither of which I believe in - consciously).
A few weeks ago I went to a wedding and shared a room with two female friends. They went up to bed about an hour before I did, so they decided to share one of the full-sized beds so that I wouldn't wake either up them up when I came up. This meant, of course, that I had the other bed to myself. When I woke up in the morning I still had slept as if I were sharing the bed, crammed all the way over to one side with the other side barely disturbed. That is the essence of Catholic guilt, at least for me: Feeling so wrong about having more than my share that I won't indulge in all of it, even though no one else benefits from my sacrifice and I did nothing wrong.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Trying to be careful
In my line of work, it's really easy to talk about God like God is not in the room with me. I need to be careful about that.
Monday, October 20, 2008
More brilliance in the blogosphere
I am thrilled to announce that my brother has launched a sports blog: felicesports.blogspot.com
Tom and I are similar, to say the least. If you ever wondered what it would be like if I went off on a rant about sportscasting or the Steve Harvey show, now you can find out.
Go forth and read.
Tom and I are similar, to say the least. If you ever wondered what it would be like if I went off on a rant about sportscasting or the Steve Harvey show, now you can find out.
Go forth and read.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
On today's first reading, from Isaiah 45
I am the LORD and there is no other,there is no God besides me.
It is I who arm you, though you know me not,
so that toward the rising and the setting of the sun
people may know that there is none besides me.
I am the LORD, there is no other.
I’m always pleased with the way that “ordinary time” offers us readings that are anything by ordinary. This week’s first reading in particular struck me (more the second time I heard it than the first), and shamed me in the way that reflection on the Scriptures sometimes can.
I don’t know how any one can hear the phrase “I am the Lord, there is no other” and not be at least a little ashamed. It’s human nature to become distracted, to raise other gods up because we are briefly deluded that in them we may find salvation. Just this weekend I can think of multiple gods I served: my esteem in the eyes of others, the pompous freneticism of my schedule, the frustration with other people that I want to scratch like an itch.
But to say that the Lord is God alone means little without at least a sense of who God is, despite our inability to ever fully comprehend God. For tonight I know this: God is the one whose command to me, given to the prophets and repeated through Jesus, is to love: love mom and dad, family, friends, people on the bus, co-workers, God, and myself. Just love. So why bother with any of the other nonsense?
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