Wisdom and Folly

People abuse the English language in many ways, but I am never more bothered than when I hear the word “literally” misused.  Take a perfectly good idiomatic hyperbole like “scared to death,” for example.  Why do some folks insist on trying to add emphasis to this phrase by saying “I was literally scared to death”?  No, my friend, you were figuratively scared to death.  Had it been literal, you wouldn’t be here now.

Some of the most striking abuses occur in the context of sports.  Several years ago I was listening to an NFL playoff game involving the Pittsburgh Steelers, who were trying to mount a last-minute comeback.  As they drove down the field, the announcer declared, regarding their quarterback at the time, “Cordell Stewart is literally trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat.”  Naturally, I wondered why he would do that while playing football.  In another case, an ESPN radio commentator was discussing the poise of a particular basketball player when he said that this player “literally has ice water in his veins.”  Uh huh.  But my all-time favorite—if you can call it a “favorite”—appeared on a website advertising a student development conference.  The blurb about the keynote speaker asserted that this person’s work had “literally turned the world upside-down.”  Hmm.  Now that is impressive.

Other common linguistic mistakes, such as mispronunciations (of words like “nuclear” and “asterisk”) and confusions of terms (such as “jealous” for “envious” or “sarcastic” for “caustic”) are annoying but excusable.  However, faulty uses of “literally” are on a different level because they typically spoil a perfectly serviceable metaphor or hyperbole.  And it is even more disturbing when the offender is a professional broadcaster or academic.

So, gentle reader, I beg you to be responsible in your use of this word.  Or, if you must abuse it, please do it in private so that others won’t be corrupted by your indiscretion.  My hope is that we can put an end to this error, because if I hear the word abused again I am going to lose my mind.  Figuratively speaking, of course.

For the past two years, we have homeschooled our oldest son, Bailey. This year we were planning to send him to a charter school that would meet two days a week and continue from home the other three. For us this seemed like the perfect hybrid, mixing the best from both traditional school and homeschooling. Unfortunately, the scheduling didn’t work out, so we decided to stick with homeschooling for the time being. I really liked the format of the curriculum, however, and decided to use the homeschooling version. When placing my order, I informed the salesman that the charter school was in the process of sending me materials that I would have to return since Bailey wasn’t participating. Though I knew what his response would be, I asked if it would be possible for me to simply keep the parts that I would be purchasing and return the rest thus saving time for myself and shipping costs for everyone. He informed me that this wouldn’t be possible. Instead, the company was sending me materials that I would then mail back. Then the company would send me the same materials for which I would pay a hefty shipping cost.

Ah, the wonders of modern technology. I don’t know about you, but I encounter this all the time. I put it in the “we don’t have a button for that” category. The first time I remember encountering it was when we became vegetarians and, around the same time, parents of a kid’s-meal-eating toddler. I would go to McDonald’s or Burger King and explain that I wanted a fish sandwich but my son was desperate for the latest brightly-colored piece of plastic they were advertising. Would it be possible for me to substitute a fish sandwich for the hamburger? I would be happy to pay the difference in price between the highly processed, brutality-infused “hamburger” and the heart-attack-inducing but relatively cruelty-free piece of “fish.” The response was always the same. First, a look of puzzlement, perhaps accompanied by a scratch of the head. Then a quick look around in hopes that a supervisor was rushing to the scene to rescue the poor cashier from this over-demanding customer. Finally, “No, I’m sorry. We don’t have a button for that.” Apparently with the advent of modern cash registers, common sense was permanently placed on the shelf, along with paper products and old-fashioned courtesy.

Of course, it isn’t just fast food restaurateurs who are guilty of this crime against humanity. Customer service has become an automated nightmare for anyone not satisfied with the “buttons” available to us. I worked in customer service just after graduating from college and was rather successful at it. I attribute a great deal of that success to my willingness to work outside of the system in an attempt to help people (not to mention my southern accent-everything sounds better with a drawl.) The one positive of this situation is that those who are willing to step out of the matrix and interact with us as human beings shine like stars.

I will never forget the experience I had while visiting a fast food restaurant with my sister. We were buying kids’ meals for our children and after I explained my dilemma, the store manager suggested that we purchase the fish sandwich and the brightly colored piece of plastic (for merely twice the price). After I declined to do so, the manager looked down at Bailey and said, “So he won’t get a toy and everyone else will?” Holding my breath, I replied “Yep.” She reached under the counter, pulled a toy from the box and made my son’s day. I guess she had a button for it after all.

Christian author and president of Ligonier Ministries R.C. Sproul tells the story of his experience as a young father visiting his daughter’s school for the first time.  Six weeks into his daughter’s first grade year at a public school in Boston, Mass., Sproul attended an open house for parents in which the principal was to explain the school’s programs and goals.  The principal proceeded to review in rigorous detail how each activity undertaken was based on the latest research in child education and how it contributed to specific aspects of the children’s development.  When they were done, the principal asked the parents if they had any questions, which at first was met with only silence and blank stares.  Finally, Sproul himself spoke up: “Sir,” he said, “I deeply appreciate all that you’ve done here, and I am overwhelmed by the amount of care and precision that has gone into the planning and execution of this curriculum.  But I do have one question.  Could you tell me what is the overarching purpose you are trying to achieve here?  In other words, what kind of child are you trying to produce and why?”  The principal looked at Sproul mutely for a several moments and then said, “I don’t know.  No one has ever asked me that question.”  To which Sproul replied:  “I respect and appreciate your being so open and honest.  But frankly, your reply terrifies me.”

Sproul’s question could, and I think should, be posed to any educator, whether those teaching first-graders or those like me, working with college students.  What kind of person are my colleagues and I (at Taylor University) hoping to produce or at least have a hand in shaping?   If we, like that principal, have no answer to Sproul’s question, then the parents of our students, too, have good reason to be worried, if not terrified.

In an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education (June 4, 2004), Vartan Gregorian argues that American higher education is suffering from a “major failure” to make sense of the unity and value of knowledge, and is degenerating into a mere job-readiness program.  Increasingly, colleges are taking what Gregorian calls the “Home Depot approach to education,” turning themselves into “academic superstores, vast collections of courses, stacked up like sinks and lumber for do-it-yourselfers to try to assemble on their own into a meaningful whole” (p. B12).  Colleges offer a vast array of general education and specialized courses but it is “devoid of…context and coherence” (ibid).  What is critically absent is any sense of what it means to be an educated or cultured person.  So Gregorian issues an urgent call for college professors and administrators to “reconstruct the unity and value of knowledge” (ibid).

Notice that Gregorian’s worry is essentially the same as Sproul’s but just on a higher educational plane.  It is interesting to note that the events recounted in Sproul’s story occurred about forty years ago.  So his daughter’s generation are today’s college professors whose lack of unifying vision Gregorian laments.  There is indeed a crisis in American higher education today, and Gregorian diagnosis it well.  But conspicuously absent from his essay is any sense of the problem’s cure.  His plea for colleges to “reconstruct the unity of knowledge” is futile unless some of us actually know how to go about doing this.

Another curious detail in Gregorian’s essay is his choice of terminology.  He does not call for a construction of the unity of knowledge but a reconstruction, which suggests that American colleges once enjoyed a unified approach to education.  So where did that go?  And how might we bring it back? Could it be that what we need is to rediscover the unifier of knowledge which we somehow lost along the way?

In the first chapter of Colossians the apostle Paul writes that by Jesus Christ “all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.  He is before all things and in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:16-17).  And a little later Paul says that “in [Christ] are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col. 2:3).  If Paul is correct-and I suspect he is-then we have found the true unifier of all knowledge, the remedy to the crisis in higher education described by Gregorian.

Many people still labor under the delusion that a “neutral” education is possible.  Their recipe: Insert soul here; add factual data of diverse kinds; increase ambient social temperature; allow to incubate for three and two-thirds years; and-boom schnitzel!–an Educated Person. As if human beings really could be completely impartial and dispassionate.  As if education was a simple matter of pouring facts into persons.  As if there was such a thing as a view from nowhere.

One of the virtues of postmodernism is its rejection of the myth of neutrality, whether regarding education or any other sphere of human activity.  There is a person-relativity to knowledge, the postmodernists tell us, and even if we cannot agree with their extreme pronouncements about relativism, we Christians should acknowledge this much.  The ultimate reality is a Person, and absolute truth is relative to that Person.  What American higher education has lost is not a “what” or “it” but He who is the source of everything and brings meaning and purpose to all human activities, from learning to laughter to lovemaking.

As regards our current crisis in higher education, as with so many things in life, to discover the cause is also to find the cure.  Once upon a time in this country all our great colleges and universities were founded on Christ.  Harvard’s motto was typical: “veritas in Christi gloriam” (truth for the glory of Christ).  Jesus was the center around which they orbited, but over time they drifted out of that orbit.  The image in Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming” comes to mind:  “Turning and turning in the widening gyre; The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.”  Jesus Christ is the true Falconer, the launching point of all knowledge and the center from which all wisdom derives.  But less and less our culture hears his call.

The loss of the unity of knowledge in higher education is a consequence of the rejection of a Christian worldview.  The only way this unity can be reconstructed is through Christian education.  The bad news is that higher education has fallen a long way, and the road to cultural redemption will be hard.  But in Christ there is always good news.  A millennium and a half ago things looked really bad for Western civilization.  Radical skepticism had prevailed in a war ravaged and disease stricken culture.  Truth and the unity of knowledge appeared as lifeless corpses.  Who would have thought the best days were yet to come for Western Civilization?

So what reconstructed the West?  What brought us out of the Dark Ages and into the light?  Was it not the gospel?  And how did the Christian worldview survive such difficult, apparently hopeless times?  It was Christian communities, an underground culture of hope, centered on Truth and devoted to the Christ who unifies all knowledge.  In short, Christianity saved Western Civilization.  I don’t know if we are heading into another dark age, as some have suggested.  But whether or not that’s so, the West needs to be redeemed again.  And if Christianity saved Western civilization once, it can happen again.  It can happen through the same underground culture of hope that pulled it off the first time.  And Christian colleges can be as pivotal as they were the first time.  The founding of the universities of Paris, Bologna, and Salerno were decisive for the advance of Christian thought in the 13^th century and beyond.  Christian higher education must play a similar role in the years to come if we are to see a true redemption of Western culture.

Now, to return to Sproul’s question, my colleagues at Taylor and other Christian colleges do have an overarching purpose.  We do know the kind of person we are trying to produce-a person whose Christian worldview permeates the whole of his or her life.  By God’s grace we can still hear the falconer, and it is our job to enable our students to do so as well.  Whatever our specialties, research projects, disciplinary paradigms, or technological preoccupations, we must not forget whom we orbit.  It is he who holds all things together and “in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

Thumbs Down:

Awake: Okay, I know it’s a movie about a heart transplant patient who discovers a plot to kill him while having open-heart surgery. And okay, it stars the actor (Hayden Christensen) who somehow managed to make Darth Vader boring, but still I had some hope that this thriller would deliver vacation-worthy entertainment. Sadly, though as the implausibilities piled up like lemmings at the cliff’s end (I just googled lemmings and discovered that the whole lemming thing is indeed a myth. Bummer, but it still works for illustrations sake.) I had to resign myself to a major thumbs-down. Worth seeing through to the end but I recommend perusing Jagged Edge or Shattered if you are looking for a good thriller.

Head Scratcher:

The Happening: I look forward to a new M. Night Shyamalan movie like Paris Hilton looks forward to her next photo-op. So when Jim and I got a chance to see The Happening in the theater, I could hardly keep myself from pushing to the head of the line while shouting “M. Night, I’m coming!” We were running late so I waited for drinks and popcorn while Jim grabbed some seats. He filled me in and I settled in for the ride. The acting was so stilted I was trying to figure out if it was supposed to be a spoof. I’m still not sure. Most of the characters seemed artificial and under-developed (think chocolate chip cookie that isn’t dough but definitely not ready to call itself a full-fledged cookie). I still say that bad Shyamalan is better than most at their best but that also means I have set a higher standard for him. If nothing else, it left me wanting to rewatch his other classics.

Thumbs up:

The Virgin Spring: Where to even begin with this movie! I have long held a love/hate relationship with Ingmar Bergman. When one of his movies pops into the mailbox, I have a heavy sensation and usually put off watching it for a day or two (which is saying something for me). Even when I am watching it, I am wishing I were watching something else but inevitably I either love the movie or at least can appreciate the art of it. “Silent but deadly” would be a good description for this one. If you do choose to watch it, don’t read anything about it beforehand (except this review, of course). All you need to know is this it is Bergman at his best. The Virgin Spring questions the justice and providence of God in a way that will haunt you for days.

Recently I was chatting with someone about nutrition and I noted how factory farmed meats pose health hazards. He was skeptical and asked, “Is there any scientific evidence for that?” I replied that there are many studies which confirm this and told him that I was willing to direct him to some of these publications. But my friend smiled and shook his head, saying “You can’t trust scientific studies. You can use them to prove just about anything.” I was dumbfounded. First he demands scientific evidence for my claim, but when I oblige he tells me that he can’t accept it because science can’t be trusted! At this point I realized that I was dealing with a closed mind, so we went on to discuss other things.

I once heard someone say that aging academicians often suffer from “hardening of the categories.” After graduate school, they become locked in their theoretical paradigms and are less and less likely to explore new ideas and engage new perspectives in an open-minded way. I would say this is a universal human tendency, not just a pitfall for scholars. But it certainly is more disturbing to observe this in people who are supposed to be serious about the quest for knowledge and understanding.

I have had some colleagues over the years whose views on major issues—from ethics to politics to theology—changed very little since their college days. It occurred to me that for such a person the “wisdom of their years” is partly a sham, at least as this applies to their supposed exploration of ideas. They might be in their fifties and appear to be the mature product of decades of academic growth. But since they haven’t changed their views in thirty years, how can we call them models of serious inquiry? Their students might as well be listening to a peer.

Have you changed your view on some important issue in the last few years? I’m not talking about beliefs as basic as the existence of God or even whether you are a political liberal or conservative. But if you are a genuinely teachable person, committed to the quest for understanding and willing to consider fresh perspectives, then your mind should change from time to time on various issues. If this is not true of you, then perhaps you are experiencing “hardening of the categories” yourself.

It is understandable that those who are older should change their views less frequently than the young. After all, in most cases those who are older have already reviewed more ideas and are familiar with arguments on both sides of many issues. However, even experienced folks who are very well-travelled in the realm of ideas have not been exposed to every idea or argument. So if they are truly teachable and open-minded, there should be evidence of this in the form of a conversion to a different belief every once in a while, even concerning important issues. Otherwise, I can only conclude that they are not really open to new ideas. And this is sad. A mind is a terrible thing to close.

I’m no feminist by any stretch of the imagination—mostly because I consider it a diminishment of what I stand for as a woman. But having said as much, I would like to know what makes men think they have the right to go around half clothed. Every time I see some guy walking around bare-chested I feel as if they are saying “Yes, women look upon my manly lack of breast. Gaze upon the evidence that I will never have to endure child birth or breastfeeding-induced chaffing.” (I don’t come at this issue from a modesty standpoint, though being raised by two former Pentecostals hasn’t given me the broadest of views on the subjects.) It isn’t as though the chest you are staring at is that of the latest Calvin Klein model (we should be so lucky). More often than not it’s Fred, your fifty-something neighbor mowing his yard, who would make a great spokesman for the need to ban all trans-fats.

When I see such a display of male prerogative, I’m tempted to utter the childish phrase “It’s just not fair!” It puts me in mind to go out in high heels (or to go out and purchase a pair of high heels) and prance around the neighborhood shouting “Yes, men look upon my feminine fragility. Gaze upon the evidence that I will never be drafted into the military or be asked to unclog the garbage disposal.” Let’s face it, we may be of the same species but there is a considerable distance between Venus and Mars. So why fight it? What is it in me that rises up in defiance when my sons drop their drawers and go the bathroom outside while my daughter and I huddle in the port-a-potty trying to convince ourselves that the blue water really does kill all the germs?

There must come a point when we learn to appreciate each of our contributions to society as a whole and to the well being of one another as husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers. I think this moment came for Jim and me several years ago when he was sitting on the couch reading and I was putting away laundry. I was mindlessly doing my “woman’s work” when it suddenly dawned on me that I would be doing this menial task for him for the rest of my life. Never again would someone wash my clothes, fold my socks, etc. I walked into the living room, a little perturbed. In a rather self-righteous tone I said “It must be nice to open your drawer and, like magic, there are clean clothes to wear.” Without skipping a beat, he looked up and said “And it must be nice to go to the bank, insert your ATM card and, like magic, there is money.” He went back to reading. I went back to putting away clothes but I think that moment is the one of the defining moments of our life together for I truly believe we both walked away thinking “sucker.” 

Okay, here are my top ten albums of the rock era.  For selection criteria, see my previous post.  If you disagree with one of my picks, your opinion doesn’t count if you don’t own the record!  Do yourself a favor and pick up the ones you don’t yet own.  Not all at once, of course.  This music must be savored.

1. The Beatles, Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967) – A predictable first choice, but rightfully so. With this album, the Beatles introduced the “concept album,” established rock music as a bona fide art form, and founded or perfected at least three new genres: psychedelic rock, orchestral rock, and nostalgic chamber music rock. And all within the engineering limits of a four-track recorder. Impossible. The album would have been even stronger if the sessions’ two best songs, “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields Forever,” had been included. (Instead, Capitol released them together as a stand-alone single). Classic tracks include “With a Little Help From My Friends,” Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” and “When I’m Sixty-Four.”

2. The Clash, London Calling (1979) – If the Beatles were, as McCartney described them, the ultimate “cabaret” band, the Clash were a close second, proving themselves just as capable to try on, and master, a wide range of styles within the rock tradition. The best album by “the only band that matters,” London Calling features an array of music styles and influences—punk, R&B, ska, and reggae. Yet somehow it is a unified piece of work, with no lulls in the 19-song sequence. Unlike the Beatles’ masterpiece, London Calling has only improved with age. The album’s most recognizable songs are “Train in Vain,” which became the band’s first U.S. top-40 hit, and the title track.

3. Bob Dylan, Blonde on Blonde (1966) – This was the final album in Dylan’s early “beat poet” period and the culmination of the most prolific and inspired era in the rock bard’s career. Despite its flaws (occasional sloppy playing and some imperfect mixes) the music always soars. The songwriting dazzles, and the energy of Dylan and his band perfectly matches the songs, which are mostly blues-based rockers. The album is loaded with all-time Dylan greats, such as “I Want You,” “Just Like a Woman,” “Absolutely Sweet Marie,” and “Leopard-Skin Pillbox Hat.”

4. The Beatles, The Beatles (a.k.a. the “White Album”) (1968) – In the summer of 1968, the Beatles sojourned to India to meditate with the Maharishi Yogi. After a few months they were disillusioned about the self-proclaimed holy man, but they returned home with a boatload of new songs and a will to return to an unadorned sound. The result was a 30-song double album which showcases the Beatles’ incomparable versatility. Styles range from blues rock (“Birthday” and “Yer Blues”) to acoustic ballads (“Blackbird” and “Julia”) to Western swing (“Rocky Raccoon”) to bluegrass (“Don’t Pass Me By”) to a 1930s-style show tune (“Honey Pie”). The album also features the controversial non-musical sound art piece, “Revolution 9.” What The Beatles lacks in unity it more than makes up for in quality of individual songs.

5. U2, The Joshua Tree (1987) – On the heels of their Unforgettable Fire album, singer Bono declared that the band had no clear tradition. This motivated them to explore American music, especially blues, country, gospel, and roots rock. Meanwhile, the band was wrestling with political issues related to Central American conflicts. These factors converged to ensure the songs U2 recorded for The Joshua Tree—only half of which appeared on the album—were focused and inspired. Producers Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois managed to create a sound that is full but also spacious, perfectly complimenting the mood and lyrical themes of the songs. Classic tracks include “With or Without You,” “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and “Bullet the Blue Sky.”

6. Led Zeppelin, Led Zepellin IV (1971) – Although commonly referred to as Led Zepellin IV, this album really has no name. Instead, it was identified only with four cryptic symbols. The music on the record, however, is not obscure in the least but features such straightforward rock classics as “Black Dog,” “Rock and Roll,” and “Stairway to Heaven.” This album displays the talents of a great band at the height of its powers, all harnessed by the underrated producing genius of guitarist Jimmy Page.

7. Radiohead, OK Computer (1997) – At a time when we were all weary of Seattle grunge sound rip-offs and the loud-soft-loud arrangement they turned into a cliché, suddenly there appeared—not without plenty of pre-release hyperbolic praise—an album so beautiful and inspired it seemed to come from another world. (Perhaps fittingly, several of the songs reference aliens.) With their 1995 classic The Bends, Radiohead had mastered the rock genre. Now it was time to transcend it. And, boy, did they (with this album and every one they have made since). Classics include “Paranoid Android,” “Exit Music,” and “Let Down.”

8. Bob Dylan, Highway 61 Revisited (1965) – This is Dylan the beat poet singer, Allen Ginsberg with a guitar and harmonica. From the classic opening track, “Like a Rolling Stone” to the mesmerizing closer, “Desolation Row,” the album is a non-stop torrent of stream-of-consciousness lyrics, sung over a blues-rock palette. But it’s not just comic nonsense (though it is quite often that), as a prevailing theme of alienation and confusion emerges which at once typifies the mood of the mid-60s and aptly communicates the essence of the human condition. How could he have been so far ahead of his time? Answer: While other songwriters were inspired by popular songs, Dylan was inspired by great poets.

9. Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon (1973) – No album has spent more time than this one on the Billboard album charts—a total of 29 years. This is ironic, considering the fact that it is anything but a pop album. The music was highly experimental for its time, and its innovations have aged well. Lyrically, Roger Waters explores the heaviest of themes—mutability, consumerism, ethnocentrism, violence, madness, and death. Classic tracks include “Time,” “Brain Damage,” and “Money.” (As a curious aside, there is also the matter of the album’s strange synchronicity with The Wizard of OZ: http://www.everwonder.com/david/wizardofoz/. Try it out, and make of it what you will.)

10. Queen, A Night at the Opera (1975) – This amazing blend of heavy metal, quasi-folk, nostalgic ditties, and orchestral-operatic rock still defies categorization. Reported to be the most expensive album ever recorded at the time of its release, one listening reveals why. Queen laid down literally hundreds of vocal tracks, and just one section of the album’s masterpiece, “Bohemian Rhapsody,” took three weeks to record. But more impressive than the meticulous production on this album are the songs themselves—each smartly composed and arranged by one of rock’s greatest bands, each member of which sang and wrote songs.

Here is the first part of my list of the best albums of the rock era: 1955 to 2000.  (The top ten will appear in my next post.)  My list comports with what might be called the rock music “canon.”  As much as I could manage, I have refrained from accentuating my own stylistic predilections, which happen to be progressive rock and British pop.  My selection criteria include: 1) lyrical and musical originality, 2) historical impact, and 3) consensus of music critics.  Regarding criterion #3, I have allowed my own judgments to be heavily influenced by published lists such as those by Rolling Stone magazine and VHI.

11. The Beatles, Abbey Road (1969) – The swansong of the most important band in history.  Even while in the midst of a bitter break-up, they managed to make an album that was not only cohesive, but groundbreaking.  The second side of the album flowed continuously from song to song, inspiring the same convention in such later albums as Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick.  Classic tracks include “Here Comes the Sun,” Something,” and “Come Together.”

12. David Bowie, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972) – A concept album which tells the tale of Ziggy Stardust, a space alien rock star who comes to Earth to inspire humanity, only to self-destruct through dissipation.  Sound familiar?  But it is the album’s individual songs, not its narrative, that make it great.  It is chock-full of classic tunes, but some of the more familiar ones are “Suffragette City,” “Moonage Daydream,” “Starman,” and the title track.

13. Elvis Costello, This Year’s Model (1978) – After his heralded debut, My Aim is True, Elvis, the “singing dictionary,” hand picked his band, The Attractions, and this, their first album together, brims with passion and angst, beating his contemporary new wavers at their own game.  The album’s relentless energy is matched by its lyrical cleverness.  One of the best albums of the new wave era.

14. Jimi Hendrix, Are You Experienced?  (1967) – How does he get those sounds out of his guitar?  Is it R&B or psychadelia?  How many rules can you break and how many different rock genres can be spawned by one album?  And yet, ironically, this album is a return to the rock’s blues roots.  Classic tracks include “Purple Haze” (U.S. release), “Hey Joe,” and “The Wind Cries Mary.”

15. The Kinks, Muswell Hillbillies (1971) – The last of a string of great records during the Kinks’ “golden age.” Ray Davies wry wit and ingenious social commentary is at its finest, with classic tunes such as “Alcohol” and “Complicated Life.”  With the recurrent anti-technology theme, it even manages to be a concept album in an unselfconscious way.  As wonderful as this record is, one staggers at the thought of how strong it would have been if produced by someone more able than Ray Davies (with all due respect to Mr. Davies, who is one of rock’s towering figures).

16. REM, Automatic for the People (1992) – After ten years of resisting pressure to make a commercial album, the Athens, Georgia founders of “indie rock” finally dished it out in good measure.  The album was indeed a commercial success, but it was also an artistic breakthrough for the band, as many of the songs, such as “Nightswimming,” featured innovative arrangements, while others had surprisingly weighty personal themes, such as “Everybody Hurts”—a tragically ineffectual plea to Kurt Cobain.

17. The Beach Boys, Pet Sounds (1966) – The Beatles self-confessed inspiration for Sergeant Pepper, this album was itself inspired by the Beatles’ Rubber Soul.  Pet Sounds features some of Brian Wilson’s most ingeniously crafted pop tunes, including the plaintive “Wouldn’t it Be Nice,” a gorgeous cover of “Sloop John B” and “God Only Knows,” which became the first top-40 hit whose title featured the name of the deity.

18. U2, Achtung Baby (1991) – The last great album by Ireland’s greatest band, Achtung Baby was a surprising departure from the American-influenced sound of their previous two LPs.  Though adorned with a lot of experimental guitar work, this rarely gets in the way of the songs themselves, most of which are brilliantly crafted in their own right, including “Mysterious Ways,” “One,” and “You’re So Cruel.”

19. Rolling Stones, Exile on Main Street (1972) – Emerging from the shadow of the Beatles two years after the Liverpudlians split, the Stones were free to indulge their street blues roots while experimenting with other genres as the new kings of rock.  This sprawling double album is their least polished but most pure in terms of rock and roll energy.  It also features some of the best Jagger vocals, Richards’ guitar work, and Glimmer Twins songwriting in the bands’ repertoire.  Classics include “Tumbling Dice” and “Happy.”

20. Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run (1975) – After his first two strong, but overwritten, albums, the Boss secured manager-producer Jon Landau who refined Springsteen’s image as well as his musical vision.  Upon the album’s release, Springsteen instantly became the voice for ordinary working-class (especially blue-collar) Americans, a mantle he has proudly worn for over three decades since.  Classic tracks include “Thunder Road,” “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out” and the title track.

Recently the kids and I found a stray kitten along the side of the road. When I say kitten, I mean tiny fur-ball-with-tail, fit-in-the-palm-of-your-hand size kitten. While this description may conjure up adorable calendar-worthy pictures in your head, this kitten was—how shall I put it—repulsive. Let’s just say she had eye “issues.” Still, eye infection or no, we couldn’t leave her, so we took her home with us. Since Jim is an animal lover, much more in practice than I am in theory, she settled in to await adoption. (The first order of business was clearing up the eye goo which increased her curb-appeal ten-fold.) We were soon the family to be avoided as the rumor circulated that we were desperately trying to give away a kitten.

Unfortunately, Bootster (admittedly a less than stellar name lovingly bestowed by Sam) didn’t last long enough to know that she was unwanted. One morning a few days after she arrived, Bailey woke us to say that Bootster was dying. Jim and I hurried downstairs to discover the kitten in obvious pain and quickly fading. Jim and Bailey took her to the vet where she was “put to sleep” (a phrase surely created to terrify children into never closing their eyes again). Each of the kids reacted in their own way—Bailey crying, Sam acting as if nothing were the matter, Maggie immediately going to draw a picture for Bootster, and Andrew standing poking at the body and saying “booboo?”

But later in the day things got really interesting. We were holding graveside services for our little furry friend when I suddenly realized that Maggie and Andrew (four and two respectively) had no idea what we were doing. As far as they knew, we were getting ready to bury Bootster alive. I had sudden visions of them trying this out on one another and gently tried to guide them away before Jim threw on the first pile of dirt. Alas, I was too late and Andrew threw his hands up in outrage as he watched Daddy “being mean” to kitty. I tried to explain but as the words were coming from my mouth I realized the absurdity of what I was trying to convince him of. Had it been one of my own would I have so glibly said “Child X (I can’t even bring myself to insert one of their names) is in a better place? He/she is with Jesus and waiting for us in heaven.” Heck no! I would have been right there along side Andrew, throwing my hands up in protest to heaven and begging for him/her to be spared.

As Maggie began to chime in, probing about the process by which we enter paradise, I realized how hypocritical we are with our kids when we try to whitewash death. Or maybe I am not so much a hypocrite but rather one who is greatly lacking in faith. It’s easy to believe that kitty is better off. After all she was a bit smelly and, frankly, a pain in the rear to take care of. But would I be willing to put my money where my mouth is when it comes to those I love, who are a bit smelly as well and often a pain in the rear but who are also the center of my small world? I pondered these things while I watched the kids play at Taylor Lake that afternoon, marveling at how quickly they seemed to recover. I sit here now, calling up each of their dear faces, half paralyzed in fear at the thought of them being taken from me. My conclusion? God knows how small I am and how very limited is my thinking. He doesn’t ask me to understand His ways, only to take His hand as I walk away from the graveside of my expectations, hopes, and dreams and trust that Daddy isn’t really being mean after all.