The Glow Worm and Spike Jones

I've been reading a blog written by someone who recently took a break in his history lessons about a city nearby to think about lightning bugs. I grew up knowing those little bugs as "fireflies" and learned a song on the piano during my lessons in childhood titled "The Glow Worm," yet another reference to "lightning bugs" albeit in their larva stage. As they mature, they are called "glow flies" by some. While I was reading the blogger's post, I not only thought of my piano playing days, but the song as interpreted by the late, great, Spike Jones (not to be confused with the person Spike Jonze.) While tracking down a version of this song on Youtube.com, I came across the song being sung by The Mills Brothers, a popular group back in my childhood. That's version was probably when I first heard the song, as my parents liked The Mills Brothers. Then there was the Spike Jones version. If you've never heard of Spike Jones (and his band of City Slickers) and you like parody songs, Spike Jones was famous for them. My parents were fans of Spike Jones, so I grew up hearing the performances on vinyl records, but never saw Jones and his band perform live. My father told me that those live performances he saw during his military service in World War II were like a three ring circus with so much going on during the performance it was dizzying. The music, mostly songs from the 1940s onward would often start off in straight, lush orchestral arrangements of the chosen song, sometimes with a vocalist, then in a matter of minutes, disintegrate into a form of musical chaos, silliness and laugh-until-you-cry (especially if you were a child) madness. When my parents died, I inherited those albums and still treasure them decades after first hearing them.

Laid off, again

To borrow and slightly re-write a phrase from Lennon & McCartney: "I got the news today, o boy..." When I actually had heard the news circulating about cutbacks happening due to the economy, despite my hopes, I knew it was just a matter of time until the axe fell for me. In my working history which spans some three decades, I've been laid off twice before, due to budget cuts related to the economy taking a downturn. As always, it starts with a meeting with the boss I have at the time and the phrase: "I have some bad news...." Consequently, I get a knot in my stomach every time the boss I have at a job says "I need to talk with you." It never gets any easier, even when the job I'm losing this time (a government-related position) is one I was overqualified for from Day One. It was supplemental income, so at least this time I'm not totally out of work. Yet. I have another job to rely upon which I notified today about the need for additional income. My boss there said "Sorry about you being laid off from that job, but we could really use you more here since things are getting busier." So, there's that, with hopefully no more bad news in the near future.

Fortunately, none of this affects my love of writing (that's job number three...with sporadic income involved--so I've never been able to view it as self-sustaining income, but self-sustaining in the personal satisfaction area of my life.)

I'm very grateful that I will be able to continue to bring in a steady salary this time. In the past, it was frightening to lose a job and not have one "in reserve." Perhaps I've learned from past experiences the need to have another job as back up.

I feel for those losing their jobs in other areas and hope that they are fortunate enough to find something quickly in a declining economy. Here's hoping the gloomy economic outlook passes faster than currently predicted

My Journey through Judaism

"Good Shabbos," "Shabbat Shalom." These were greetings I learned from two separate temple congregations I attended in my fifteen year journey through Judaism, the last decade of which I dedicated myself to Judaism by the act of conversion.

Normally, I am hesitant to discuss my spiritual journey, because I think of such things as personal, individual matters. I'm not an evangelist seeking to convert people to my way of thinking. But in light of the recent news related to Hamas, the Gaza and Israel, which has extended to organizations seeking membership of "We stand with Israel" between Christians and Jews, I thought I would share the story of my journey through Judaism. Any reader of this, I ask only one thing. This is my journey, not yours, so I would like respect shown to what I share.

I became interested in Judaism at a young age by way of several paths. One was learning early from my Christian parents that without Judaism there would be no Christianity. Jesus was Jewish. But that brings up another matter I've learned over the years: the perception of the man known as Jesus, the historical and theological aspects meshed with cultural aspects, myths and legends. But that's another topic of focus.

The second path which brought me to Judaism was, as with others, study of the Holocaust during the twentieth century, and I did, indeed take coursework related to that historical period, one of the worst in human history. Notably, it began with the diary of Anne Frank, which has been revised over the years as more details have been released (and I own each new revision.) But Anne Frank was part of a traditional European view of Judaism which was rather alien to me as an American. Of course, her family's suffering touched me deeply.

When I started college, my journey through various religions gained momentum. I attended a Jewish temple but felt a bit of an outsider because I didn't know that much about the culture beyond what I'd read. While the temple is Reform in spirit, (the more liberal branch of Judaism) like other small temples in the area outside of major cities, the congregation tends to be an amalgam of those raised in the Orthodox tradition, the Conservative tradition (the more moderate) and the Reform tradition. Various views accompany such a mixture in one group, but that doesn't make it bad. Just different.

Years later, when I committed to Judaism by conversion, I had no intention of leaving it. I'd studied with a rabbi to whom I had to journey several hours because he was in another region than where I lived. I shared some of my thoughts on the transformation and he provided feedback--the humorous aspect of this study was that I had read the texts he suggested over a period of time when I wasn't actively seeking conversion. As I joined another temple congregation, also small, and like the first, without a full-time or even part-time rabbi, I tried my best to adapt to a congregation which relied as many small congregations do, on lay-leadership and monthly visits by rabbinical students (who are often referred to as "rabbis" or "teachers" by congregation members...but I think that title should be reserved for those who make it through the difficult learning process akin to seminaries known by Christians. But that's just my view.)

I became involved in lay leadership of Shabbat services on Friday evenings and inquired into a program aimed at deeper lay leadership training known as "para-rabbinical studies," though it has gone through many name changes over the years. While the congregation with which I affiliated did not discourage me, they did make it known that they had functioned quite well for years without a person with para-rabbinical training so that they felt I should just do the training if I wanted it, it wasn't necessary for the congregation. It was a double-edged view. I wanted to serve my congregation, my Jewish family in a broader sense than just Friday evening services, so I felt the training wasn't thought of as necessary but it was what they knew. I was supported in my attendance at the regional conference where several thousand Jews attend to worship, to learn and to become an engaged community for several days. It was an awe-inspiring and deeply satisfying experience for me spiritually.

As time passed, I found that the congregation to which I belonged had a much more "help society as a whole" approach in their thinking than one of weekly religious observance or spiritual inquiry. This concept was not, of course, a bad one, but it was not what I personally was looking for in my own concept of community. Perhaps this was related to their own upbringing, I don't know. But it was rare to find many people at the weekly services unless it was the monthly visit by the rabbinical student, and of course, during the time known as the High Holy Days (or Holidays) in the Jewish Year, or an event like Passover. It reminded me a lot of those Christians I'd known who go to Church twice a year: Christmas and Easter. Likewise, sports took a greater significance in the life of many members than did weekly services or spirituality (as it has in my experience as a Christian member of a congregation,) so the small congregation attendance was very small during some sports seasons, and sports, not spirituality seemed to be the topic of interest.

I did meet people who enriched my life, but my spiritual life, always more introverted than extroverted languished because I had only one other person (also a convert) who engaged in spiritual discussions with me. When I decided to leave the congregation after much prayer and meditation, I called up my friend who like myself was a convert, and broke down in tears as I discussed my difficult decision with her. Fortunately, our friendship remains beyond the bounds of spiritual interests.

Perhaps if I had been more "extroverted" or been a member of a larger Jewish congregation, I would have found a home for life. I blame no one for what happened, but I did return to the religion in which I was raised, and fortunately a denomination which allows a person to think differently than some Christian denominations. As a resident of southern Louisiana both in college and for a few years following, I heard many stories from "ex-Catholics" or as they sometimes call themselves "recovering Catholics." It is something to which I cannot relate. But that is another "journey" story.

Do I regret my journey through Judaism? Not really. The end result was not what I would have liked, but knowing myself as a spiritual seeker, I reconciled myself to following my heart, or as one friend has summed up such a journey: "Go where you are fed spiritually."

Bibliophilia

Just like with animals, I've had a lifelong love affair with books. I learned to read several years before I started school (in the time period when pre-K and Kindergarten wasn't required.) My mother once told me that as she was trying to teach my brother to read (he's four years older) I would sit and try to read the print upside down in books while she sat beside him. She mentioned that she worried I was dyslexic.

I went on regular trips to the public libraries with my mother before I started school, and of course, after. My father introduced me to classics when I was in grade school. I didn't know it wasn't "normal" to have read things like Brave New World, Lord of the Flies or works by Shakespeare and others before fifth grade. It just happened for me. My father would take a book from his shelf and say "Read this." So I did, and often we'd discuss the book after I'd finished. Sometimes my perception of the book's contents changed with reading it over various stages of my life, but I always was able to glean something from it.

Now the libraries don't seem to have the books I am interested in, or I'm on a waiting list...a long one...when a popular book comes out. This could be related to living in an area where there isn't a large library. Enter Amazon.com! When online book ordering became possible, I stopped going to the library as often. I've also been to local bookshops (which sometimes have the same problem the public library does...the book isn't available, though sometimes I get lucky.) They very kindly say they can order it for me and have it in two or three days, but I can do the same thing online. Admittedly, I have a bad case of "bibliophilia."

I'm currently reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer & Annie Barrows. One of my favorite quotes from the book (so far) is:

...That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive--all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment.

In my case, that's very true. I've learned a lot about Guernsey Island since reading the book and looking up information about it available online. It's a melding of reading for pleasure and reading for knowledge.

Speaking "Frank-ly"

One of the hard things for me this time of year is the season causes me to reflect on times past. Both of my parents have been deceased for many years, but that is what happens with the passage of time. It's difficult, however, to sometimes think of broken friendships, broken romances and then tragic events ending a life way too early. That was the case with my friend, Frank.

I first met Frank when my parents moved to another city when I was attending college. Frank was attending a different college, closer to where my parents lived. Frank and my parents attended the same church. So meeting Frank was, I guess, one of those things to be expected.

We discovered we had the same sense of humor, and because Frank was one of the "hippie types" of that era (and all that entails) we shared some common interests. My parents liked Frank, but probably secretly prayed that nothing serious would develop between us. They needn't have worried. Frank was, well, my buddy (but not the kind that some people think of these days.) We talked for hours, and because Frank was an unashamed smoker of the popular substance at that time, we got into some really interesting conversations. My parents, no doubt, thought that I was guilty of similar smoking behaviors because I hung out with Frank, but that wasn't the case. Someone even labeled me a "fake hippie" because I never intentionally used recreational drugs (second hand inhalation at a rock concert was another matter. I couldn't hold my breath forever!!)

One of Frank's favorite songs was "Don't Bogart That Joint" (or as it appeared on the album listing: "Don't Bogart Me") known from the movie Easy Rider, played during a scene which pushed actor Jack Nicholson into stardom.

Frank and I only saw each other during college breaks. Christmas and summers, mainly. He wrote to me (in those pre-email days) and told me he was in love with me, but sadly for him, I didn't love him in quite the same way. He moved on. Our friendship remained, but we saw less of each other.

Several years later, word came that Frank had died while awaiting a transplant. By the time I had learned about it, the funeral was long over, but I still grieved for a while remembering the fun we had. He was there for me during times of heartaches of my own. He also had an off-kilter sense of humor, remarking one time that the day after Christmas, which I have known as "St. Stephen's Day," was a "day to get stoned." Not that he chose that particular day to do so.

So each Christmas, I remember Frank and his love of puns, our interesting conversations that went on for hours and veered from serious to silly. He loved the comic strip Frank & Earnest because of the puns it often contains. One of his favorite lines when we'd meet up was "I'll be Frank, and you'll be earnest." How true. Spoken like a lover of puns.

Dewey Readmore Books

I'm a lifelong animal lover. Starting with a cat who entered the life of my family when I was four years old. There have been many animals/pets in my life since then. As a result, I've read a lot of books involving animals since my childhood. One of the more recent books I read, Marley & Me, has just been made into a movie. But recently, I read a book titled Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World. His full name was the title of this post, "Dewey Readmore Books." As a lover of puns (and cats, among other animals) I adored the name this cat was given when it was discovered by a librarian one cold night in Iowa. I won't say anything else about Dewey's story, but it was an emotionally touching read. I will only add that I never heard of Dewey until I read this book, so was surprised at how far-reaching his notoriety was.

Survey Says: Do you text message during sex?

Normally, I'm not a big fan of telephone surveys, but I decided to participate in one today as I was not really involved in something at the time of the call. The questions covered a wide variety of topics, so that just when I thought I'd figured out who was sponsoring this survey, another crop of questions went in another direction. Samples: "How do you feel about a root canal as opposed to tooth extraction?" "Have you heard of these brands of water coolers?" "Do you know about the Heritage Foundation?" "How do you feel about the Brookings Institute?" and one that REALLY made me laugh "Have you ever text-messaged someone while having sex?" She had to repeat the question. I could tell that the questioner was also a bit reluctant about asking that one at first and her initial phrase was "while in the throes of passion," but then she said "If you think that one was funny, wait, there are more questions about sex." I was intrigued and was thankful the caller was female. My sex life is not something I wish to discuss with many people, but I told her (the caller/questioner) that my mind kept coming back to that "sex while text messaging" question and I kept trying to supress my laughter. One of the follow up questions was "Do you know anyone who has admitted having sex while text messaging?" Sadly, I had to say "yes." I really do know someone who admitted that to me. Other questions involved political issues, economic and social issues. As I mentioned, it was hard to figure out who was sponsoring the survey, but as surveys go, it was definitely one of the more interesting ones.