The Changelog - General

Look out Nebraska, Here Comes Jacob!

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 19:09:56 -0500

This weekend, the three of us got in the car and drove up to Tekamah, NE for Blogstock 08 at Cliff's. That's Jacob when we were stopped at a park halfway there. Sure looks like he's about to do something ornery, doesn't it? I think he looks even more ornery than the photo of Cliff. That's saying something.

We all really enjoyed Blogstock. Ralph, Cliff, and the rest of the Morrows sure know how to have an event. Ralph said that Cliff's BBQ smoked chicken is the best we'll ever have, and he may just have been right.

I'm going to include a few of my photos in this post; you can see all of my 200+ Blogstock photos on Flickr. (In case anyone else uploads Blogstock photos, you might tag them blogstock08).

Jacob had a blast, and I think he took special pleasure in keeping Terah and me busy. I recall saying something like this, all strung together:

"Jacob, please stop throwing dirt at the cat. That cat doesn't like to have dirt thrown on it. Jacob, stop throwing grass on the cat. Jacob, stop hitting the cat. The cat doesn't like to be hit. Can you pet the cat gently like this? Good job! Jacob, stop sitting on the cat. That hurts the cat. Stop throwing dirt at the cat. Would you like to go play in the corn?"

The Morrow cat was the most tolerant cat I've ever seen, and didn't really seem to mind having a toddler sit on its head. However, we noticed this morning that Jacob's legs mysteriously have some scratches that look very much like cat scratches. We didn't see anything happen, and Jacob didn't come crying to us or anything. I suspect the cat found a way to communicate that it doesn't very much like to have someone sit on it. I also suspect that Jacob understood the message.

As for corn -- Jacob loves corn. He first noticed it within the past week or two, and always gets excited when we drove past some. He calls it "koh!", and particularly tall corn is "koh-koh" or "ah-koh". Cliff has tall corn, and when I first asked Jacob if he wanted to see it, he immediately stopped pestering the cat, yelled "KOOHHHHH!!! KOH KOH KOH KOH!!!" and started running towards it. He started by carefully inspecting the corn from the edge of the field. (I can't help but thinking he looks a bit like is great-grandpa Yoder in this picture.) I can almost hear him saying "yep, this corn looks pretty good" in a couple of years.

The real fun begins when you get into the corn, apparently. With a little bit of holding my hand to balance while walking over the rows of dirt, he'd get between the rows of corn and have a blast. That means mainly picking up a full handful of dirt, running to another random corn plant somewhere, throwing the dirt in the general direction of the corn, and cackling like this was the best thing ever. I had to watch out with the camera, because I didn't really care for it to be hit by dirt, and well, I was in the general direction of corn, too.

And, in case you didn't know, having fun in the corn is serious business.

Now, what can a toddler possibly do after playing in the corn, eating some cherries off a tree, and smearing some dirt on his face with cherry juice?

Well, plan his next activity, of course! From the look on his face, it will be another one to keep Terah and me busy.

Jacob seemed to get along really well with everyone. But Ralph said that everytime he came close, Jacob would give him a nasty glare. Here's Ralph holding Jacob. Was this the look, Ralph?

Or maybe it was this:

Friday evening, Cliff and Ralph made up some great hamburgers, hot dogs, and sausages. We all ate under the big tent, and had a nice time visiting. It was sort of an unusual thing -- meeting people you already know for the first time -- but very nice. We left somewhere around 8. Jacob enjoyed the hotel room, too.

That's Jacob talking on the telephone. Well, I would normally use it as a TV remote, but to Jacob it looks like a phone, so a phone it is. (I can see his point.) This is Jacob answering the phone by saying Hi! Jacob's word for a phone, by the way, is "hi." He'll find a remote by the TV in the room, point to it, and yell "hi!"

Jacob's usual bedtime is 6:30PM. He normally falls asleep fairly easily and sleeps soundly until 6:30AM. Well, we got him in bed well after 6:30PM. Then he made the discovery that the hotel crib/playpen has a mattress that is not attached to the bottom like our mattresses at home are. This was good for at least an hour of excited playing. As Terah and I were trying to sleep, we'd hear these cackles from Jacob's crib, and the noises of a very active boy. I'd peek around and see him using the mattress as a tent, as a peek-a-boo toy, or just as something to throw. I think he fell asleep at about 11.

And woke up promptly at 6:30 on Saturday, just like clockwork, ready to make some phone calls and start the day.

Now, just a tidbit for anyone that doesn't have kids: a toddler, low on sleep, and endless excitement all combine to make for busy parents. Jacob did pretty well, and got in a good long nap in the afternoon. We did take several trips to the corn field.

For most of us, Saturday was a day for brunch, for sitting around and visiting under the tent, for horse rides, and maybe a massage for those that wanted it. Terah got to ride a horse, and Jacob got to ride a pony, too.

For Jacob, it was a day to make new friends, too.

I took this picture just a second after she had given him a hug. I was just a little too slow whipping out the camera.

But when it comes to cherry picking, it's all serious business once again.

Jacob loved eating these sour cherries. At first, he would pick one cherry off the tree, run over to the tent, give it to Terah for her to get the pit out, eat it, then go back to the tree for another one. He must have decided this was inefficient not long after I did. After a few roundtrips, he started trying to get the closest adult, whoever that might be, to pit the cherry for him. When he found one that would do it, he'd keep bringing cherries back to that person.

And then he was under the tree for a long time. Terah and I noticed, and had a conversation about just how many cherry pits it's OK to swallow. But when I checked it out, I found out that Jacob had figured out how to pit cherries himself. He did lose about half a cherry each time he did it, but I guess that was more efficient than pestering adults to do it for him. Though it may have also worked to carry two cherries to the tent at a time.

Late in the afternoon, Cliff started up the smoker for the chicken. He had rented a big smoker for the occasion, but it wasn't working, so he made do with his regular smoker, ovens for the corn, and an array of dutch ovens or side grills for everything else. I couldn't keep track of it all, and I was just watching, but somehow it all turned out perfect.

While the chicken was cooking, Ralph and son-of-Ralph (SOR) were having a conversation and patting their bellies. I couldn't hear, and didn't ask questions, so I'm choosing to believe that they were discussing how many pieces of chicken they could eat. When they heard my camera click, Ralph said, "He didn't just take a photo, did he?" Thereby guaranteeing a spot on my blog.

I had the distinction, I think, of being the least-read blogger at Blogstock. I can't quite remember how many times I'd meet someone, and they'd say, "Oh, you're the computer guy, right? I tried reading your blog, but I didn't understand it, sorry!" Completely understandable, I assure you!

After dinner Saturday, we talked about how we got started blogging (hi, Marty and Andy if you're reading), why we were there. Cliff said some very kind things about Terah and me, which really meant a lot.

Later, Cliff told me how Terah showed up in the kitchen with her tray of deviled eggs. Cliff saw them, and said, "Terah, I love you." Later, Cliff said "I love you" to someone else. From the next room, Terah piped up, "What food did she bring?"

Saturday evening, Terah took her horse ride. Jacob was quite tired by that point, and threw a tantrum about not being able to go with mom and ride a horse, too. We were talking about it when Rachel came over. Jacob asked her to pick him up, she did, and he instantly stopped fussing. Maybe it was a "so there" to me, since I had been holding him a minute before, and he took the opportunity to scream in my ear. But in any case, Jacob loved Rachel. She let him sit on a pony, carried him all around the yard, and he managed to hold it together until Terah came back at 9:30.

Saturday evening it was time for goodbyes. We all had a blast and I'm sure we'll do this again. If you weren't there, here's what Blogstock looks like:

A bunch of friends sitting around chatting under a tent pretty well sums it up.

(There was a full tent of people; some were just elsewhere when this particular photo was taken.)

Jacob shared his thoughts on the whole trip on the way home, too. Well put, Jacob.

A response to "7 Ways Religion is Detrimental to Science"

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 22:24:46 -0500

I read 7 Ways Religion is Detrimental to Science, and thought it would be an interesting read. It was, but I don't think it really made sense. Let's look at the 7 ways they highlighted:

1. Faith and the Scientific Method are Opposites

The article states:

Faith is a belief in an idea regardless of the evidence for or against it.

Actually, that's not true at all, at least for traditional Christianity. (Note that traditional Christianity is not the same as fundamentalism). Marcus J. Borg describes faith in four ways:

Fiducia -- trusting in God. Borg says, "Faith . . . [means] we trust in God as the one upon whom we rely, as our support and foundation and ground, as our safe place."

Fidelitas -- loyalty, or "the comment of the self at its deepest level, the commitment of the 'heart'. Faith as fidelitas does not mean faithfulness to statements about God. . . Fidelitas refers to a radical centering in God."

Visio -- a way of seeing -- "a way of seeing the whole, a way of seeing 'what is'. . . the ability to love and to be present to the moment. It generates a 'willingness to spend and be spent' for the sake of a vision that goes beyond ourselves."

Assensus -- perhaps the closest to what the author meant, is "faith as belief." Borg goes on to add:

The notion that Christian faith is primarily . . . about belief, about a "head" matter, is recent. . . For many, Christian faith began to mean believing questionable things to be true. . . this is the most widespread contemporary understanding of "belief".

This is very different from what faith as assensus meant. . . A deep but humble (and therefore imprecise) understanding of Christian faith as assensus, as involving affirmation of the centrality of God as known in the Bible and Jesus, is very close to faith as vision. It is a way of seeing reality.

As a Christian, I do not find the scientific method to be a problem. I find it to be enlightening in all sorts of matters, including even the history of religion in some instances. Christian faith is not about believing in certain ideas (such as the world being created in 6 literal 24-hour days), though there are those that distort it to be so. Rather, Christian faith is about living your life a certain way, about the meaning of life, about our duties to make the world a better place.

2. People Vote Base on Religious Ideas

The author says that "Stem Cells weren’t the first time a body of research didn’t get proper funding because some religious wack-jobs." Well, I agree that that was a problem. Non-religious people can vote in odd ways too. I argue that the rejection of stem-cell research goes against Christian teaching; after all, we are to help the least among us, and do not people with Alzheimer's qualify?

I think the author's point should have been "exremists have odd views." Extremists can be atheist, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, or other religions. Religion does not have a monopoly on them.

3. Religion Removes the Need For Science

The author says:

When people are content to believe in something that explains why they are here, even if it is wrong, they become less interested in other ideas. Religion often leads people to believe that they have all the answers. Science is self-correcting in that nobody assumes they are absolutely correct.

That is incorrect on several levels. First, science cannot explain why we are here. It can explain some of the mechanics. As an example, let us take for granted that modern scientific thought on the origin of humanity is correct: that there was a Big Bang, that single-celled creatures evolved on earth, and that human life eventually evolved through a complex process of evolution and natural selection. Fine; this does not contradict religion in any way. Science and religion answer different questions. Science answers "how". Religion answers "why". Science cannot answer the question "Why was there a big bang?" or "Did the evolution of humanity serve a larger purpose?"

Moreover, religion should not assume that they have all the answers, either. The canonical Christian Bible was mostly fixed within a few centuries AD. Life in 200AD was a lot different from life today. Part of the reason there are many different groups of Christians is the complexity of applying the stories in the Bible to modern life. The ideas in any given denomination evolve over time, too. I think it would be the height of hubris for anyone, religious or not, to claim that he or she had all the answers. Again, I know that some religious people act that way, but then so do some atheists or agnostics.

4. People Lean on Religion, When They Could Benefit From Science

The author of "7 Ways" cites the quite rare case where a child dies of a curable disease while his/her parents pray, refusing medical care. This is an extreme position that is not shared by the vast majority of religious people. Most religious people are perfectly content to use the latest medical care.

Meditation or prayer does not replace medical care; it supplements it. Scientific studies have even demonstrated its effectiveness.

5. The Church Takes Up Natural Resources

The original author states that "The land that churches take up around the world could be used to build schools, homes, recreational buildings and commercial operations." This is perhaps the most frivolous of arguments. Putting aside the fact that many churches operate schools, churches are often one of the few ways that modern city dwellers have to form a sense of community. They are not just places to engage in religion. They are places to meditate, to get away from it all, to meet your neighbors, to vote.

6. The Church Takes Up Monetary Resources

The original author says "if people donated to scientific advancement like they did to the church, imagine where we would be today." It's not a pleasant picture. Religion, and institutions supported primarily because of the teaching of religion, are the people that feed the hungry after natural disasters, that operate food pantries (our church operates the only one in our community, and it's open to anyone without any questions or talk about religion), that operate schools in disadvantaged areas, that have spread the whole idea of fair trade for third-world artisans, etc.

It is true that acts of evil have been committed in the name of the church, too. It is also unquestionably true that some church groups spend money more carefully than others. As with any donation, people should be careful where they give. Government-operated research studies are not necessarily a good use of money, either.

7. Religion is A Strong Meme

The author of the original story seems to be responding to a particular brand of Christianity: what Borg calls "literal-factual" religion. There are quite a few people that take that stand. They are sometimes inaccurately referred to as "evangelicals" or the "religious right"; while there is some overlap between the groups, they are not one and the same. The people with the literal-factual view are not representative of the whole.

More interestingly, Borg points out that the literal-factual view was actually a response to the development of the scientific method during the Enlightenment. As the modern idea of truth moved to literal, factual, provable truth, some Christians grew defensive about their faith, and started to look for "scientific" ways to prove that the world was created in 6 days, etc. in an attempt to show the world that Christianity fit their new notion of truth.

That makes a compelling argument that the scientific method is the stronger meme in today's Western world -- so strong that the author of the rant against religion has apparently forgotten the more prevalant -- both throughout history and today -- view of Christianity that is "more than" Science, not at odds with science.

Vorsanger

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 19:52:56 -0500

This October, our church celebrates its hundredth anniversary. All this year, every so often, we are having brief "historical moments" during church.

Today, our temporary choir director -- and my high school band teacher -- was a Vorsanger. He got up during church and discussed how hymn singing was done in the early days of the church. Today, our Mennonite church sings in a variety of styles, most commonly 4-part music accompanied by a piano, and no director. But we also sing more "contemporary" styles.

Back in the earlier days, the church didn't have hymnals with music for everyone. The Vorsanger -- song leader -- would sing each phrase, then the congregation would sing it back in unison, throughout the whole song. Hymns that the congregation already knew well would just be sung normally, in unison, with the Vorsanger directing.

Not only did the Vorsanger lead the singing, but he or she also chose the music -- not the pastor. As the church purchased first a pump organ, and later a piano, the instruments would sometimes be used to accompany the singing. The musicians never knew what would be sung in advance. One 80-year-old member of our congregation remembered the she started to play for church at 8th grade. But much of the time, there would be no instrument, not even to pick the starting pitch.

This morning, we sang Holy God, We Praise Thy Name with the Vorsanger. It's a familiar song in our church, but we generally sing it in English. The Vorsanger taught it to us in German, the older people in church would have remembered it. He finished his introduction, stepped away from the microphone, and rang out with the first phrase.

Großer Gott, wir loben dich

Then we all sang the phrase back to him, in unison. On to the next phrase, back and forth for the rest of the hymn. Terah and I were in the choir area, behind him, but could hear him -- and the rest of the congregation -- just fine.

At the end, our Vorsanger for a day said he thought we got it, so we sang through it again, still in unison, but without him leading us on each phrase.

Großer Gott, wir loben dich,
Herr, wir preisen deine Stärke,
Vor dir beugt die Erde sich
Und bewundert deine Werke.
Wie du warst vor aller Zeit,
So bleibst du in Ewigkeit.

What a powerful way to feel connected to the people that worshiped at the same place so many years ago.

As our director said before we sang in choir this morning, music can say so much more than words.

Church Choir

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 21:43:00 -0600

Every year on Good Friday, our church choir joins with the other church choir in the area for an evening choir program.

This year we are performing The Seven Last Words of Christ by Theodore Dubois. It's a challenging and beautiful piece. We'll have our combined choir, plus pipe organ and various other instruments.

Easter starts with a sunrise service, then breakfast at church. During the service, we'll sing a number of additional songs. I think the list includes The heavens are telling by Haydn, Ave Verum (KV 618) by Mozart, Love Is Come Again arr. by Parker & Shaw, Praise the Lord by Handel, Alleluia (from Veni Sancte Spiritus, K 47) by Mozart, and Thanks Be to Thee by Handel.

It's a lot of fun to be in the choir, and also quite a joyful time. I'm looking forward to Easter.

One Year Ago

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 06:17:00 -0600

One year ago today, I wrote that we had moved onto the farm on Jan. 20. That was quite the day: 7.5" of snow, and windy.

When we moved in, our kitchen didn't yet have its flooring or any appliances. We had a microwave sitting on a 5-gallon bucket and a borrowed dorm fridge for the "kitchen". There were other little things being finished up, too. Of course, "moving in" doesn't just happen in an afternoon either. We are still sorting through boxes from time to time, cleaning up stuff in the elevator (some of which was grandpa's), and punching down the last few network runs.

Before we moved in, we spent three months in a drafty basement apartment. Our previous house had sold, and the farmhouse wasn't ready to move into yet. And we moved out of that other house about 3 weeks after Jacob was born.

It was a busy, exhausting time. But we're so glad we did it. Jacob's room is much closer to ours, which is quite helpful. He loves to scoot around on the wood floors. Terah bought him a large pillow, and he likes it when I give him pillow rides around the house.

Older people that knew my grandparents love to drop by, too. For awhile after we moved in, we'd have people just drive on the yard to see what it looks like now. The person who pruned our trees hinted that he was curious what the inside of the house looked like, so I showed him. He grew up Amish, and said, "wow, this would be a perfect Amish house!" I guess the Amish could remove the network jacks.

We have some neighbors a mile away. They're two sisters living on their parents' farm. I think they're in their 70s or 80s. They drive whatever car their dad bought before he died 20 or 30 years ago. Last month, one of them gave me a call. I've been collecting photos for the upcoming church centennial, and she had some that she thought I might be interested in. It was snowy and cold, so I said I'd be happy to go over and look at them sometime. That wasn't quite her plan. "Oh, that's no trouble. I like to get out, and you're not far away." She brought over some wonderful photos (which I scanned), and also got to see the inside of the house for the first time in years.

That's how things go out there. Last June, we had some tourists drop by. It's been a lot of fun to be part of this community again.

Before long, Jacob is going to love playing in the elevator and walking down to the creek. Maybe he'll like making a snowman next winter, or riding a bicycle up and down the driveway someday. It will be fun to see.

Christmas Is Almost Here

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 21:23:37 -0600

It seems like Christmas started on Saturday this year. We had a nice snowfall, with a not-so-nice 40MPH wind accompanying it. We got drifts, and had whiteout conditions outdoors for a little while.

Sunday morning came and I went out early to see if we'd be able to get the car down our driveway. At about 1/4 mile long, shoveling the whole thing is not a practical option. Fortunately, I got most of the way down the driveway before the car got stuck, so I only had to shovel a little bit.

Sunday was our big Christmas choir day in church. We started off with Star of the East, and old Christmas tune. Research into the church archives revealed that it was first performed by the adult choir in the 1930s -- and it was sung in English. Mrs. H. F. Voth was quoted as saying "they sang from the heart and meant it sincerely." It was fun to sing this old song.

Later on, the whole church sang Oh, beautiful star of Bethlehem, another old tune that isn't heard so often anymore. One of the older people in church told me later that song was special to her because she remembered carolers singing it at her house years ago.

The service ended with Nun Ist Sie Erschienen (score, mp3, story), a tune sung in our community for many years. I fondly remember my grandpa playing this song on his harmonica. Maybe it's just stuck in my head for some reason, but it seems it was one of his favorites. This particular day, the pianist -- who was my band teacher when I was in school and is now retired -- improvised a beautiful accompaniment to the song. We sang it four times: twice in German, and twice in English. One of the older women in the congregation, whom I normally can't hear because she sits in front of me and down the row in choir, was singing with such strength that I could hear her clearly from my seat.

Moments like that bring home the timeless nature of Christmas to me.

Everything Update

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Sun, 16 Dec 2007 19:49:51 -0600

It's been an interesting week. For those of you that haven't been following along: we lost power Tuesday and have been without ever since.

Yesterday was the annual Christmas party at work. About an hour away, supposed to be there at 6. So at 2:30 I went outside to see if I could get the car out past all the snow. At first, YES! But then, halfway down the driveway... well, no. Our driveway needs help. It's actually lower than the fields around it. Thankfully it's on a hill so it doesn't flood, but it does drift shut when there's snow. So the car got stuck. I dug it out, and it got stuck again. And a third time.

I eventually called my dad to see if he'd be willing to come over with his tractor and open up our driveway. He said yes, and drove the 5 miles in his tractor -- which has no cab, and it was below freezing -- and got the driveway open, and helped me get the car unstuck. We had planned to leave at 4, to give us time to get Jacob to the babysitter. We didn't think a babysitter would enjoy spending the evening at a cold house with only a generator providing power, so we were taking him to their place. Well, we left about 4:30.

We got down our driveway, onto the road, and hey -- more drifts. Yay. Got out onto the highway, over to the road to their place. Which someone, ahem, had assured me was a paved road. But instead we got 5 miles on a very drifty east-west country road. That's the deepest snow I've ever put a car through, and I am still surprised that we didn't get stuck anywhere.

So then we dropped off Jacob, and off to the party, and squeaked in just a few minutes late. Phew. It was nice to be out of the house, too.

When we picked up Jacob later -- taking the non-drifty route -- he was sleeping, of course. I carried him out to the car and put him in his seat. There's nothing quite like carrying a sleeping boy snuggled into you to make you forget the lack of electricity outside.

Today we went to church. Church was canceled last Sunday, and the Wednesday evening activities were too. So I think everybody made an effort to be there today. All sorts of electricity stories were heard. Generators moved around the countryside as those that owned them got power and loaned them out to those that didn't have power. The president of a nearby college called the church and offered two rooms at his personal residence to anyone that needed them. One woman announced during sharing time that her husband was taken to the hospital on Friday. They determined that he needed heart surgery, and that will happen tomorrow... and she added that she'd be with him for a couple of days, so if anyone needed a warm house for a family, theirs was available and had a couple of bedrooms, fridge, and garage that people were welcome to use.

At noon there was a free lunch offered to anyone still without power. We went and enjoyed some warm soup and bread with about 30 others.

After that, we went to my parents' place to do some laundry, then came home.

We ate supper. As Terah got up to give Jacob some more chili, I suggested that she look out the window and see if any yard lights were on yet. I had flipped our master breaker off, just to be extra cautious due to having wired our furnace into the generator temporarily. So this is how we would tell that power was back on somewhere (though we did check it periodically during the day). Terah looked out the window, and said, "I DO see yard lights out there... Do you think?" I got up, went downstairs, flipped the breaker, and light came on! We turned on the lights -- Jacob had missed them -- and plugged in the Christmas tree. The power had come on for people miles in either direction from us at the same time. Dad came over to get our electrical box back to normal state and to help me load up the generator to return tomorrow.

There's nothing quite like this to make us feel fortunate to be a part of such a caring community of friends and family -- people who don't think twice about helping out someone in need, even in the midst of having a husband hospitalized.

Jacob didn't seem to mind the power outage. Except for one thing. He is very excited about lights these days. I can spend 15 to 30 minutes exploring lights with him, especially in the kitchen. He will point at a light and say "da?" ("that"). "Da? Da?" means he wants it turned on or off. We'll go to the light switch, and he'll get to flip it, or watch while I do. "Dooooo!" is his excited response.

Well, when he wants something and it's not happening fast enough for him, "Da? Da?" changes to "Da!... Da!..." and then to "DA!! DA!!" and finally some fussing. That happened several times as we couldn't turn on lights.

Then we got to church this morning and boy was he excited. Lights everywhere! He'd point to one bright light and say "Da!" -- look at the light over there, dad! Point to another place and "Da!" Another one over here! And ceiling fans! Lights everywhere! He was so excited he was trying to jump up and down.

Jacob's favorite new word is "hi." He has just barely figured out how to say it, and it takes effort, and comes out very breathy -- but it's there. He can spend several minutes saying hi to someone over and over if he's in the right mood. He wouldn't say hi to the greeters at church, or anyone that said hi to him. But we were sitting in the back row, and halfway through the sermon, he started saying hi to the ushers that were behind us. I couldn't see them very well, but I imagine they were trying to keep from cracking up.

Egg and Daughter Night

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 21:01:53 -0600

Cliff has an absolutely wonderful post about "egg and daughter night" in his hometown in Nebraska. A great read.

Saturday evenings used to be quite the occasion around here too, from what I'm told. But nobody can tell the story like Cliff.

It's Cold Outside

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 20:27:30 -0600

A day or two ago, I got the feeling that winter has set in. Maybe you know the feeling.

I looked outside the bedroom window. The trees had a bit of white all over. The tall grass in the distance had a sheen of gray on it. The sky was a uniform gray. Small ice pellets hit at our window. As far as the eye could see, not a sign of anything that wasn't frozen.

As I stood in our warm 68-degree house, I was reminded of how little separates us from the frozen outdoors. A few inches of wood and insulation is all. How easy it is to fret about the rapidly rising cost of propane these days, the cost of heating a house. But still, how easy we have it compared to the people that came before in this house.

They had to keep a fire going for warmth, keep a ready supply of firewood for the winter, figure a way to get the warmth throughout the house. All with insulation that wasn't as good as we have, windows that didn't shut as tight as ours, doors that were draftier. As is typical today, our furnace has safety systems designed to detect problems and shut itself down if something weird happens. Back then, indoor heat was a dangerous thing. There's been at least one chimney fire in this house, an event which often claimed the entire house and sometimes the lives of its inhabitants. Ten feet from my desk, there's a rounded out black spot on the floor where, perhaps 70 years ago, someone opened the door to a wood stove, only to be surprised by a burning log falling out to the wood floor.

Today, we can't use wood heat due to Terah's asthma. We had the chimney removed to boost the energy efficiency of the house with modern heat. Out back in the trees north of the house, there is a pile of bricks, saved from our chimney for future use. Each brick has a scorched side, darkened from the chimney fire and decades of use.

As we experienced firsthand in the ice storm of 2005 (see also more stories and pictures), it doesn't take much to be thrown back a hundred years from a convenient modern heat to our non-automated, non-mechized, past. All it takes is a tree to snap too close to the right power line anywhere between our house and the generating station -- which I think is 80 miles away -- to make our house mighty cold. Even though I still have a stack of firewood, it wouldn't do us much good these days.

With that in mind, today I was listening to the radio while driving in to work. How lovely to hear this quote:

"The National Weather Service will issue a Winter Storm Warning effective at noon today, lasting through 6AM tomorrow." We are to expect rain, freezing rain, ice pellets, and ice. A "wintry mix" is the technical term for it, I believe.

Temperatures were just a few degrees warmer than expected this afternoon, so we got mainly rain. What we will get tonight is an open question yet. I'm sure that schoolchildren all over the state are hoping for ice and lots of it. Personally, I feel that it's only been three years since I spent a week carrying a saw in my trunk in order to be able to clear my driveway every time I left home or got back home. I think I'm owed another year or two off. I also wouldn't mind avoiding the giant branch sitting on the ground right in front of the front door, or the 40-degree indoor temperatures, or the lack of running water due to lack of electricity.

But these crisp, cold winter days are a rare thing to enjoy these days. We get a month or two of stifling heat each summer, but only a week or two to enjoy this really cold part of winter. I miss the snowdrifts when we don't get them.

So, mother nature, bring it on. I'll be waiting with my camera and a glass of hot chocolate. Because even without electricity, I can still light a burner on our oven with a match.

American Priorities

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 06:13:00 -0600

Number of people killed on Sept. 11, 2001:	2,974
Number of suicides in 2004:	32,439
Number of people killed on American highways in 2006:	38,588
Annual deaths from obesity:	300,000
Total deaths from cancer in 2007:	559,650
Total deaths from heart disease in 2004:	871,500

Total military spending in FY2008:	$1228 billion
Funding for health research & improvement (NIH):	$29 billion
Total support of Amtrak (safer, cleaner than highways):	$1.6 billion
National Highway Traffic Safety Admin. spending in FY2008:	$0.8 billion

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

Short-Term Thinking

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 08:06:43 -0500

flickr page

First Typoblogging Experiment

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 18:43:33 -0500

Note: red underlined links are clickable

flickr photo page for this post

Unexpected Interest

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 07:25:00 -0500

A few days ago, I wrote about my recent purchase of an old Smith-Corona manual typewriter built in 1944. Terah and I were at an antique store, and it was $25 and sorta an impulse buy.

Since then, something unexpected has happened: I'm getting interested in using manual typewriters.

I've been busily tracking down ribbons (Nukote BW277 doesn't work on it, even though their website says it does), typing paper (business-supplies.com has it at a decent price with free overnight shipping on most orders over $50), and various tidbits of knowledge (such as: what does the lever numbered 0 to 6 beneath the right ribbon spool do?)

Today I went to a local office supply store. Not OfficeMax or OfficeDepot -- they do carry ribbons for typewriters of this era, but not the right ones for my particular machine. But the store that has been owned by the same family since it opened in 1899 on Main Street, where it remains.

And, surprise, they had the ribbon I need!

It seems that typewriters are experiencing a certain resurgence in popularity. People that have computers -- and perhaps never knew a world without them -- are buying typewriters. Because of interest, novelty, or even usefulness. There are quite a few typewriter repair shops that still exist, most of them happy to work on typewriters up to a century old.

So why am I excited about it?

Part of it is the fun of making a really old piece of technology work.

Perhaps part of it is knowing that I'll be typing at a machine that was built the same year as D-Day, the year when the first German city fell in World War II. Part of it is knowing that this 40-pound machine was built to last, in an era before planned obsolescence. And, to a certain extent, it has outlasted its manufacturer.

Part of it is curiosity: will I write differently on a typewriter than a computer? It seems that most people that have tried both say that their writing is different on a typewriter, and often better. Perhaps it is the difficulty of editing that forces more rigorous thought up front.

Christopher Watkins wrote:

[Manual typewriters] just plain shame me into working. As with any fine instrument, they're made to be used, their very design bespeaks this, and there's been many a night I've caught one of my typewriters glaring sternly at me from the shadows, implicating me in a grand failure to honor their structural destinies. Chagrined and challenged, I dutifully sit down to see what I can do to contribute to the machine-age legacy I've been called on to uphold. . .

When you sit down to write a song at the piano, you're going to write differently than if you have a banjo in your lap. And if one instrument isn't bringing the magic and the muse, maybe another will. Typewriters are the same; they make me write in a different fashion, and also provide an alternate trigger for inspiration. And as an electric guitar is different from an acoustic steel-string guitar is different from a nylon-string classical guitar is different from a national steel resonator guitar; so does each individual typewriter differ. My Underwood is different from my Royal is different from my Remington is different from my Corona is different from my Hermes. And if one isn't giving me the juice, another might.

Brian Drake added (emphasis mine):

Or you print out the document again because someone misplaced it. Misplaced it! When we were on typewriters, let me tell you, no one misplaced a hundred-page contract! That meant another two days of typing, and tying up at least two secretaries to get it done then. . .

Gore Vidal said he could tell when a book had been written on a word processor. I can, too. Sometimes I can see the cut-and-paste.

I've worked as a professional proofreader and copyeditor, and I can attest that the computer has not led to better writing. What it has led to is more writing, acres and acres of it. Books have grown fatter and fatter while their content grows slimmer and slimmer.

These seem to resonate well. More typewriter essays here.

And perhaps a typewritten blog post or two, once I try out my new ribbon.

Today's Puzzle

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Wed, 20 Jun 2007 05:22:00 -0500

Why are there some people that put "Emailing:" at the start of the subject line of emails that they send out?

I can't figure out why it's useful.

Does anyone know how this got started?

And the winner is...

nospam@example.com (John Goerzen) — Mon, 11 Jun 2007 20:02:19 -0500

To those of you that are wondering what has become of my smelly car, Terah has the scoop.