Friday Five: Talkin' 'Bout Pop Music

I'm in the office freakishly early today, having met a parishioner for coffee. It's just too early for sermon-writing quite yet. So, it seems like a good time for a Friday Five...

The sad news of Michael Jackson's untimely death has me thinking about music and its effects on us - individually, as cultures, as generations. Let's think about the soundtracks of our lives...

1) What sort of music did you listen to as a child - this would likely have been determined or influenced by your parents? Or perhaps your family wasn't musical...was the news the background? the radio? Singing around the piano?

Lots of piano, but not much singing - my mom is a music teacher, so there was always a lot of instrumentation in our house. My mom loves classical music and my dad loves jazz, so between that and the AM station my mom listened to in the car (think mid-70's, early '80's AM radio), we had some good variety. I remember the jazz records my dad had, including the Herb Alpert one with that girl on the cover.

We only had three cassette tapes for car trips: John Denver's Greatest Hits Volume 2; the Harry Belafonte tape that had "Day-o" on it; and the Neil Diamond record featuring his duet with Barbra Streisand on "You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore." Seriously, people; I loved that song. It was so...dramatic. Watch. And CHECK OUT THE HAIR. You can't beat that.



2) Going ahead to teenage years, is there a song that says "high school" (or whatever it might've been called where you lived") to you?

I was a shy, quiet, nerdy girl in high school. With a weird and mostly secret love for '80's Hair Band music: Bon Jovi, Whitesnake, Poison...you know, high quality stuff. And I had an equally weird love (especially considering the combination) for 1940's Big Band music. Which means my personal high school soundtrack was a hybrid of "Pour Some Sugar On Me" and "Moonlight Serenade."

3) What is your favorite music for a lift on a down day?

Generally, Broadway musicals. Sound of Music, Avenue Q, Chicago, Les Miserables - Maria Von Trapp is right; sing a few of your favorite things and the day improves considerably.

On a truly horrible day, though, I prefer Bach.

4) Who is your favorite performer of all time?

I really couldn't pick one. I might have to choose Neil Diamond, based on the video above - but, given my personal CD collection, I'm guessing I have the most representation from the Indigo Girls, Sting, the Dave Matthews Band, and Itzhak Perlman. Today's theme: I am all about the weird combinations.

5) What is your favorite style of music for worship?

At heart, I'm a traditionalist. Give me a giant, well-played pipe organ and Bach's repertoire any day, and I'm happy.

pastoral care, IRS-style

The following is based on a "conversation" I just had with the IRS regarding a notice they sent me last month. While on hold for - well, quite some time - I started thinking, "what if the IRS did pastoral care?" (God forbid.) I imagine it might look something like this:

A parishioner calls his or her pastor, needing some care in a time of difficulty. Said pastor is not in the office that day, and has decided to try a free 30-day trial of Automated Pastoral Care Response.

Good morning. Thank you for calling Automated Pastoral Care Response. To continue in English, press 1. Espanol, marque dos.

(Parishoner presses 1.)

Thank you. We are sorry that you are experiencing a time of difficulty. To help us assist you, please choose from the following responses. Please listen carefully, as our menu has recently changed. For pet loss, press 1. For relationship trouble, press 2. For hospitalization, press 3. For theological dilemma, press 4. For identity crisis, press 5. For all other crises, press 8.

(Parishioner chooses 3.)

Thank you. Please note that if you are not the hospitalized individual, we cannot process your request due to HIPPA privacy laws. To report the hospitalization of another individual, please press 3 and an operator will be with you shortly.

(Parishioner chooses 3.)

Thank you. Please hold.

(Parishioner endures long wait accompanied by saccharine hymnody on phone.)

Thank you for holding. Your call is very important to us. Please do not hang up. If you hang up and call back, your hold time will be increased. Calls are answered in the order in which they are received. An operator will be with you shortly.

(More saccharine hymnody.)

Thank you for holding. If you are calling to report the hospitalization of another person, you need to call our Automated Pastoral Call Reporting System at 1-800-PCREPORT. This department cannot handle your request because of HIPPA privacy laws.

(Parishioner is now confused, as pleasant-voiced lady had just said this phone number could handle said request. Decides to stay on hold. Saccharine hymnody continues.)

Thank you for holding. Your call is very important to us. Please note that if you have heard of another person's hospitalization through rumor or grapevine phonecall, we cannot respond to your request. You must report a hospitalization by filling out Form 1375 part B and submitting it in writing within 30 days. All requests filed after 30 days will not be honored.

(Parishioner starts swearing. Damn saccharine hymnody continues.)

Thank you for holding. Your call is very important to us. All calls are answered in the order in which they are received. Please continue to hold. If you would like to make a donation to your congregation using your credit card, please call 1-800-GIVEMORE. This department cannot handle your request. Please note that all pastoral care requests must be made within 60 days.

(Wait: 30 days or 60 days? Parishioner now has conflicting information but is determined to beat Stupid Automatic Phone System and stays on hold, accompanied by infinite versions of Great is Thy Faithfulness on synthesizer.)

Thank you for holding. If you would like to request last rites for a dying individual, please call our Near Death Pastoral Care Response System at 1-800-KICKBUCKET. All requests for last rites must be submitted using Form 666 part C. Please continue to hold.

(I HATE YOU, YOU STUPID SYSTEM, BUT I REFUSE TO HANG UP, DAMN IT.)

Thank you for holding. Your call is very important to us. Your call....

(Phone rings. Operator answers.)

(In I-really-could-not-care-less tone) Thank you for calling the Automated Pastoral Care Response System. This is employee 153869209586749348395. How can I help you?

Parishioner: Yes, I would like to report that my friend is in the hospital.

Operator: Did you fill out Form 1375 Part B?

Parishioner: Yes, but I just found out about this and I'm not sure you will get my form within thirty days. So I was just calling to see if I need to file an extension. But then the phone system said I had sixty days, and now I'm not sure which one is correct.

Operator: Well, you have thirty days from the original notice.

Parishioner: But what happens if my form doesn't get to you within 30 days, even if I sent it?

Operator: Well, even if I go into your account and file an extension, it won't change the amount of interest you will need to pay on your request, so there's not really any point.

Parishioner: Interest? On a small request? How do I find out how much interest?

Operator: That request is handled by another department so I can't help you with that. But if you sent in your form then I would consider it a done deal. Just go onto your Pastoral Care Account online, and once you see that your request has been received, it should be fine.

Parishioner: But what if my friend is out of the hospital by then? Or dead?

Operator: That request is handled by another department. You should call 1-800-KICK...

Parishioner: I KNOW.

Operator: Is there anything else I can help you with today?

Parishoner: Clearly not.

Operator: Thank you for calling the Automated Pastoral Care Response System. Have a nice day.

Parishioner: (hits head on desk)

If you work for the IRS and find this post offensive, please call the Automated Pastoral Care Response System and press "7." And good luck with that.

the facts of my life

I just finished a conversation with a representative from the "Wo.men of Faith" conference coming to our area in the next few weeks. (Yes, that weird punctuation was on purpose; keeps this post from popping up in searches for the name.) She had called to make an appointment and, while this is normally the sort of thing I avoid like the plague, I had a feeling it would be easier to meet for fifteen minutes and get it over with rather than dodge her phone calls for the next six weeks.

I never know what to do about stuff like this. How do I say to Super Chipper Christian Lady (who is WAY too happy for this time of the morning, by the way), "Well, you have lovely brochures and I'm sure That Lady Who Used to Be On Facts of Life is very entertaining and all, but your organization is coming from a COMPLETELY different place theologically and I really don't have the energy to undo all the theological crap you're working on there, so no, I don't plan to send anyone"?

That would probably solve the whole Too Chipper thing, though.

Anyway. I did tell her, after she talked about how 1300 women "made a decision for Christ" at their Cleveland event, that our congregation represented quite a different theological perspective and so I wouldn't be comfortable sponsoring a group from the church. ("We don't really do the 'decision for Christ' thing," is what I said, and I have to admit that it was a bit entertaining to watch her head nearly spin right off.) She assured me that this is an inter-denominational organization and that they don't focus on the things that divide us, but what unites us - "so we talk a lot about Jesus," she said, which is great, except that I'm pretty sure the Jesus you're talking about is not exactly the same as the one I know, and that's where I hit the problem.

Because I don't want to be a theological snob, turning up my nose at all the hoi polloi who can't manage to think as deeply and with as much complexity as I so obviously can. It seems a little bit wrong to decry the intolerance of others while demonstrating total intolerance yourself.

But I don't think that she and I are talking about the same image of Jesus, and I do think that matters. There's no need to be mean about it, but I also don't need to smile and say nothing and leave her believing that I'll round up a whole crew of women and show up at the conference with bells on.

(On a side note: did you know that this organization was founded by a man who used to work with Prom.ise Kee.pers and thought there needed to be something like that for women? AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.)

So. I thought this was going to be the most complicated theological moment of my morning, until I got a phone call from the daughter of a parishioner, explaining that her 81-year old mother's dog had just been 'put to sleep' by the 94-year old neighbor without permission: said neighbor felt the dog was suffering (and the dog did, in fact, have cancer) but said mother is upset because her dog is dead and her friend did it and so they are coming in to talk with me shortly.

What do you have to say on THAT one, Facts of Life Lady? Yeah. Me neither.

a prayer for the day

Dear God,

I know a big part of my job is to love your children. All of your children. Which sounds fine in theory and all, but (in case you haven't noticed) a few of your children are getting on my nerves.

So if you could help me remember that Chatty Old Lady Who Needs to Describe Her Various and Sundry, Some Imagined, Illnesses in Great and Repeated Detail and Woman Who Calls Needing Help with Her Bills but Then Has an Excuse for Why She Can't Get Here Today so Leaves ENORMOUSLY LONG Messages Every Single Day and Promises to Come Tomorrow - if you could help me remember that these two people are your beloved children, I could really use some help with that.

Also, if you have any sermon suggestions to send my way, that would be great.

Thank you.

Amen.

ah. THAT's the problem with Facebook.

It would be nice if parishioners had a face-to-face-conversation about a disagreement instead of posting a passive-aggressive 'status update' on Facebook.

That's all I'm saying.

If you'll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.

valuable life lesson.

I know, I know; you're probably expecting something more profound given my extended absence from The Blog. I mean, couldn't this woman have spent some time thinking about SERIOUS issues during said nearly-2-month blogcation?

Nevertheless, here is today's Very Valuable* and Important Life Lesson:

Very Large Amounts of Leftover Salmon from About A Week and A Half Ago DO NOT, In Fact, Fit Down the Garbage Disposal.

This valuable* advice is brought to you by my Beloved, instigator of said altercation with the disposal.

(*Actual value of this advice: $386.86, which is what the plumber charged. Note that we did choose to re-plumb the lines under the sink and replaced a leaky sprayer hose, but still...)

That's it for today. If you're really lucky, maybe someone in this house will try to cram an entire loin of pork down the toilet and then there will be some REAL fodder for Future Valuable Life Lessons editions on This Old Blog.


Also, apparently I have developed a Love of Capitalizing Things while I was gone. Not sure what's up with that.

dipping the toes back in the water

So.

Life goes on. This is a good thing, for the most part, and I am doing much better than two months ago, or a month ago, or even a week ago, for that matter. I have some bloggable moments running through my head, though nothing quite formed enough to put down into words quite yet. I'll keep working on it. (For one thing, I read The Shack, after putting it off for months, and I definitely have some thoughts on that one, but it's Friday and I just don't have the attention span for it at the moment.)

At any rate, I'm still alive and remarkably well, and hopefully will get back to this blog more regularly again.

If you're still out there, thanks for the prayers and support.