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Straddling the Aisle with Violet Beauregarde

By Amy Spiegel

I have never been terribly interested in politics. This might seem a strange confession coming from someone who graduated with a degree in political science. I am not sure what exactly drew me to the major originally, perhaps the fact that I really liked arguing–or, well, thoughtfully discussing issues with people. After serving as a summer intern in Washington D.C., however, I lost all hope that politics actually accomplished anything. Seeing the partisan biases and territorial attitude of so many politicians day after day was a clarifying moment for me both as a student and citizen. I felt quite immune to Potomac fever. (I loved the city itself, though. So many great restaurants!).

My apathy has remained fairly well intact until recently. The presidential election has captivated my attention, as it has so many Americans, in a way that I find quite surprising. It feels a bit like when you are waiting for your oil to be changed and pass the time by watching some random soap opera provided for your IQ-lowering entertainment. Thirty minutes ago, you didn’t know who Trish and Buff were and now suddenly you are breathless to discover if the Siamese twins Trish had are really Buff’s or those of his evil brother, Duff. I suddenly find myself utterly enthralled by the whole drama that is our election process. I’m completely hooked. But living in a fairly conservative area–this is like saying that penguins live in a relatively frigid environment–I have been carefully seeking all sides of the issues, not wanting to end up like one of our feathery Antarctic friends, huddled together with my kind, more concerned with the survival of my species than the greater good.

Fortunately for me, Jim and I do have a few friends that we greatly respect who lean a little farther to the left than ourselves. The day Barack Obama announced his running mate, I ran into one such couple at Bailey’s soccer game. While serving Cheerios to the youngsters, I asked our friends what they thought of Obama’s choice. I asked with a genuine desire to know, not in the way we so often ask questions of those who disagree with us. Per Jim’s recent post, I want to be strengthened in my own convictions through the thoughtful arguments of others or discover where my view is flawed and change my mind. One of our friends shook his head and expressed disappointment at the choice of Senator Joe Biden. He said that he had really believed that Obama wanted to reach across the aisle and start to change things. The phrase stuck with me through the rest of the day–“Reach across the aisle.” I can’t count the number of times I have heard commentators use that phrase. What struck me, though, was the fact that I don’t live on one aisle or the other. Jim and I would both consider ourselves social and fiscal conservatives but on other issues such as gun control and the death penalty, we would be more sympathetic with liberals. Our friends are greatly concerned with social justice but they are pro-life. So where does that leave us–straddling the aisle? What if you are neither red nor blue, but more purple? Where is the purple party–hanging out with Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory? When you can identify with both parties to some extent (and neither completely), how do you go about deciding whom to vote for?

I believe I found the answer this past weekend, sitting on the floor of a Denver book store. Jim and I were attending a wedding in the Mile High City and made the most of it with a date night consisting of cruising Barnes and Noble and a dinner of Indian food. Jim called me over to check out a book on Barack Obama. I can’t remember the title but it was clear the author was not a fan of Obama’s. I skimmed it with an open mind, on the lookout for the glaring exaggerations and misrepresentations I find intolerable from any party. What I read, however, was chilling. It was related to Obama’s views on abortion and specifically the Born Alive Infant Protection Act. I recently learned about this act and the work of a former nurse turned public speaker named Jill Stanek (www.jillstanek.com). I have been shamed by my ignorance and apathy regarding this act and the abortion issue as a whole.

Jim and I really wanted to refrain from making this blog political but what Obama is supporting through his opposition to this bill isn’t political; it’s permission murder. I don’t want to use our blog as a forum for demonizing one political party or another, but I will say that I cannot in good conscience vote for this man. I strongly urge you to be your own means of persuasion, to look at the issues–and not just from the mouths of the candidates but by looking at their records. Whatever the results of your investigation, at least you can pull the lever with confidence in whom and what you are supporting. Who knows, if enough of us who are neither blue nor red decide to straddle the aisle, Violet Beauregarde just might win.

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Big Families and the Environment

By Jim Spiegel

As a father of four kids, I am sometimes asked whether my wife and I “intended” to have “so many” children.  They say, “I don’t want to be rude, but…”  Well, the answer is yes; we did intend to have so many children.  While it is very challenging, having a large family has many benefits, both for us and, especially (we hope) for our society.  We strive to raise our kids to be thoughtful, productive Christians, who will impact culture in many positive ways.  And we hope that they, in turn, will have many kids of their own who do the same.  This is the way cultures are renewed, and we aspire to be a link in that causal chain in our own culture, which so badly needs renewal.

However, I occasionally encounter people who take a very different view of the matter.  The Earth is already overpopulated, they tell me, and having children only adds further stress to the planet.  Each kid means one more massive carbon footprint, a net loss to Earth.  Thinking themselves conscientious environmentalists, they suggest that the path my wife and I have chosen is actually irresponsible.  While these conversations rarely turn into debates, I am prepared to show my skeptical friends the flaws in their thinking.

First of all, such thinking assumes that our kids will be environmentally irresponsible, which we are working hard to prevent.  None of our lives need be a “net loss” to the planet.  In fact, if our kids turn out to be as environmentally responsible as we hope they will be, then we can expect net gains because of them.  For one thing, we practice a form of vegetarianism which has tremendous environmental benefits.  In terms of reducing greenhouse gases, abstaining from meat is one of the most significant contributions that one can make.  And we expect that our kids will likely continue this family practice into adulthood, perhaps teaching their own progeny to do the same.  On top of this, there is the potential that one of our kids will become an environmental scientist and make a profound contribution to the field.  The reasoning of my skeptical friends rules this possibility out of hand a priori.

This brings up another point which is rather exasperating.  None of the no-kids-because-of-the-environment folks I know are vegetarians.  They are so concerned about the planet that they refuse to procreate, but they refuse to do this very beneficial thing for the environment: abstain from meat.  For a while this puzzled me, but then it hit me.  The refusal to have kids and indulgence in meat have something in common-both choices are easy and convenient.  Raising kids and maintaining a vegetarian diet, on the other hand, are difficult and inconvenient.

Finally, and most disappointing from the standpoint of moral reasoning, the no-kids environmentalists are (or tend to be) guilty of one-track thinking when it comes to family planning.  By making environmental concerns the single overriding factor in their choice not to have children, they make this a moral trump card.  But even if environmental concerns did support the small family approach, why should we ignore the many other considerations which support the opposite perspective?  What about the countless ways that well-trained children can benefit society when they become adults (or even while they are still young)?  When there are so many other significant factors to take into account when doing family planning, a purely environmental approach seems narrow-minded and, well, irresponsible.  In fact, it makes me suspect that something other than environmental issues are at play here.  But, of course, this is not something I would ever say to the no-kids environmentalists.  I wouldn’t want to be rude.

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I’ve Got Friends in Low Places

By Amy Spiegel

In our kitchen we have a large set of windows overlooking our quiet (when the motorcycles aren’t in season) tree-lined street. I spend a great deal of the day standing, looking out these windows, as I make the kids’ lunches, fix dinner, and do a hundred other small daily tasks. It’s strange that such a beautiful view, at least in the summer, causes me such vexation. You see, two of my good friends (and their swarm of kids with whom my swarm of kids greatly enjoy playing) live almost directly across from these windows and right next to each other. Between us is a church parking lot that functions as a demilitarized zone for the swarm and their roller blades, bikes and tricycles. It is rare that a day passes without me watching one of the kids dash across the street to see if someone can play.

What a blessing, right? Funny how human beings have a talent for taking every blessing and twisting it into a curse. Because while I often smile as I watch my kid’s mad dash toward friendship, there are other times, more often that I care to admit, that I stand on tiptoe to make sure I’m not being left out of anything fun. A recent phone conversation with a friend proved the absolute absurdity of my paranoia. The conversation began innocently enough, as we were discussing carpooling for school. Yet despite the relative unimportance of the topic, I could tell both of us were tense and a bit defensive. You see, carpooling is a very political subject, demanding a great deal of diplomacy and tact, a bit like joining NATO. You are either in and therefore recognized as a “player,” one of the inner circle and worthy of being entrusted with someone else’s offspring, or you are out and left to fend for yourself among the lesser alliances with lesser known acronyms like the IBSA Dialogue Forum or the International Black Sea Club. Finally, I confessed to feeling a bit like a middle schooler and admitted that I was afraid of presuming too much and being left out of the loop in my friend’s plans. She quickly affirmed my value as a friend, and I suddenly felt like I had someone to sit beside me at lunch for the rest of my life. (What is a more likely place for humiliation than a large room full of adolescences balancing trays of food and desperately trying not to look desperate?)

What followed was an honest and refreshing tête-à-tête about how often we feel isolated and excluded from the social circles revolving around us in a seemingly endless chain of play dates and sleepovers. The irony was that I felt this way about this very friend. As she expressed her longing for true community and a sense of belonging, I heard my own voice (only I normally just talk to myself or Jim, if he is unlucky enough to answer his office phone at the wrong time). The more I listened, the more I felt something click in my head about my own views on community. I realized that however I try to disguise it by dressing it up in language about the “body of Christ,” what I really mean when I talk about community is a place where I feel completely comfortable. Though I talk about wanting to serve others and support and encourage them, what I am really looking for is others who will serve and support me. And if they think I am fun, like my cooking, and greatly admire my parenting skills, that’s great too. I am not looking for community; I am looking for an entourage. And as I sat there looking out my windows, my mind came to rest on Jesus. What an entourage He had! The disciples were not exactly prestige friends, and I feel quite certain they weren’t in the elite carpool. Christ had something to offer them, not the other way around. He chose friends who needed friends.

I suddenly saw the vicious cycle I was in.  Thinking only of myself just magnified each perceived slight, which made me think about myself more, and so on. The irony is that when I die to self and let go of my firm grim on self-interest, it is in that moment I find peace. When I am only looking out for myself, I am all I see. (This experience is a bit like looking too closely at one’s reflection in the glare of the dressing room mirror. Absolutely no good can come of it.) I have been standing at the window looking out for myself when all the while I should have been looking out for opportunities to serve. The contentment that I feel in the presence of others does not come from thinking about myself. It’s when I look to the needs of others that I cure my loneliness. The isolation Jesus experienced every day of His life on earth and especially on the cross wasn’t cured by gathering to Himself the best and the brightest. It was through His ultimate sacrifice for our sake that He restored fellowship with His Father, for Himself as well as for ourselves. The community of heaven awaits me if I am willing to lay down my life. God placed me in front of a window looking out, not in front of a mirror looking in.

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Literally

By Jim Spiegel

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.

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Customer Service, Common Sense, and Brightly-Colored Pieces of Plastic

By Amy Spiegel

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.

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Orbiting the True Falconer

By Jim Spiegel

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 13th 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.”

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Snapshots

By Amy Spiegel

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.

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A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Close

By Jim Spiegel

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.

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Shirtless Men and High-heeled Women

By Amy Spiegel

 

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.” 

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Ten Best Rock Albums

By Jim Spiegel

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.