sunfest part 1

Life is full of nice surprises. I'm wandering around our venue for the weekend, Sunfest, a water-front festival in West Palm Beach, Florida, just trying to pass time and realize some of my favorite artists are playing the event. Justin (keys) and Beau (bass) and I went down to the river tonight to see Bruce Hornsby play. What an amazing musician! He was a joy to watch but I only stuck around for a few songs because Duncan Sheik was playing down the way. If you've read this blog for a few months, I posted about Duncan's new record "White Limosene". He's a master songwriter with a really unique style but the real treat was that his guitarist was a guy named Gerry Leonard. For those of you who don't know, Gerry Leonard is pretty much my favorite guitarist and has probably had the biggest influence on my electric guitar playing over any other player. It was inspiring to watch him play and I am grateful to have seen him. Check his playing out on Duncan's last four records, David Bowie's "Heathen" and "Reality", and Jonatha Brooke's "Live" and "Ten Cent Wings". He's amazing.

Florida is an interesting place. No one who lives here is actually from here and everyone who lives here kind of looks the same. There's this sort of south Florida image that follows everyone around, this appearance of wealth and prosperity, and it's really unappealing. My experience with people thus far has been unappealing as well. We were getting some dinner tonight and a group of guys were ragging on Justin, who wears eye-liner. I realize he's a guy and he's wearing make-up but it really ticks me off to see people getting criticized in public for whatever reason. Next, a mere child asked me if I had any pot. We asked how old he was and he said 15, which was certainly a lie. The kid then gets testy when I inform him I'm fresh out. My friends and I weren't like that in our teens, were we?

We go to see a movie. The theater is slammed and the staff is scrambling as their computer system is down. The line moves slowly and when I finally get around the corner, I see one employee standing at the window arguing with the guy at the box office window about Mission Impossible, completely disregarding the 80 or so people in line to buy tickets. We buy our tickets and get into the movie 15 minutes late and find a group of teens talking louder than anyone I have ever heard in a theater, no exaggeration. The movie sucks anyway and the company is just grating on us when this guy asks, "would you please stop talking and maybe whispering?" One of the kids responds, and I quote (and apoligize for doing so but I want you to get the effect), "You can whisper my nuts in your mouth." Can you believe that?!? When the movie's over and the lights go up, it turns out the group of kids contains the kid who asked me for weed. It was honestly the worst experience at the movies I've ever had.

As we stood outside the theater, Tiffany and I got into this conversation about a near by bar. We talked about the loneliness of the bar scene, how the entire late night drinking game was centered around sex and false first impressions. We talked about how so many of the teens and 20 something girls near by wore too much make-up, about how so many people wont accept who they are. I like girls who don't wear make-up and don't feel like they have to validate themselves to others simply through their appearance. I'm not saying that wearing make-up or fixing your hair and all that is bad, but I think there's a lesson to be learned. Tiffany, who only wears it when she performs, put it well. She basically said, in short, that you shouldn't have to do anything to validate yourself to anyone, which is by no means an original thought, but truth never the less. To her, it's not spending all kinds of time on her appearance. Again, I'm not saying that girls shouldn't dress up. In fact, it's flattering when you take someone out and they've dressed up because it tells me they care. But at the same time, I would be devasted if she couldn't feel comfortable not dressing up. It's not an issue of cosmetics but rather accepting who you are. I've struggled with this plenty in my life and I hate to see it elsewhere and there is PLENTY of it here in South Florida.

Sorry, that was a rather long and unexpected tangent. I hope everyone has a good weekend. Cheers!

on the road...

The first show went off with only one hitch, or a glitch really. For anyone familiar with Plumb’s music, you know that there’s a good degree of programming involved. During the tune “Sleep”, the computer somehow skipped, putting the band and the sequence in different places. Aside from that, the show was a success. Not bad for the first go.

We’re driving in this giant yellow bus we have affectionately dubbed, “Nanner Puddin”. It used to belong to Alan Jackson and has been appointed with leopard upholstery and enough paintings of lions on the walls to do Graceland’s Jungle Room proud. Why Alan, why? Sleeping on the bus is interesting too as the bunk is something of a cocoon. The ceiling is too low to even sit up and I have to climb over two others to get to it; that’s what I get for being the new guy.

I truly feel humbled right now to be earning a living doing something I love so much. The company is good, the money is good, and the music is good, which is everything you can ask for from a gig. I also love to travel and while I’ve only been gone a few days, I love this whole tour thing. You sleep on the bus, wake up in the next city, have the morning and afternoon to do whatever you want and then you play a show at night. The only awkward thing is the limited access to showers. Our bus driver gets a hotel in every city so he can sleep during the day but we can’t afford hotel rooms otherwise. This means that once the bus is packed after the show, we head down to the driver’s room and all nine of us take turns using the shower. I’ve always enjoyed using wet towels.

There’s something very exciting about stepping into a band, having had nothing but the CD’s as a reference and everything sounding exactly like the CD. I can't tell you how many times I've played shows or recitals with people and it just didn't sound like it was supposed to. Tiffany’s voice is the same live as on the record and the guys are all great musicians. It’s also humbling and a lot of fun to be playing along side someone you’ve listened to and known for many years.

I am grateful that I have been provided the opportunities in my life. I play the guitar because I feel God’s pleasure when I do. I’ve finally come into a place where I no longer stand on a stage marked with insecurity and fear. Last night I felt no anxiety or insecurities, which is a growing trend in my life. I’ve always, ever since I was ten, been nervous to play in front of anyone, in my home, at school, at church even. I used to practice for hours and hours because I wanted to reconcile myself to my peers through the guitar and earn their approval. Come college, I just got burned out and only played as much as I absolutely had to but now I have been shown freedom from such a selfish pursuit and I am loving my instrument more than I have in years. Beyond that, though, I am experiencing God in this freedom more than ever and I rejoice over the fact that I am no longer just longing for the day in which I find my way into God’s purpose but am, rather, living in it. I feel joy.
I’m in Gainesville today and spend the rest of the week in south Florida. I’ll be home in Nashville by around 10 AM on Tuesday and in town for a week before the second leg of the tour. Today is my friend Lele’s birthday so everyone drop her a line and wish her well. Cheers!

time's a revelator...

I've spent the last 8 or so months in my house with a sort of mystery looming over my head. My roomates and I have sat in our curtainless living room wondering why in the heck the house across the street was visited by a plethora of strange cars all throughout the day and evening. We've had our speculations; brothel, crack house to the middle class, off-track betting ring. You know, shady stuff. We've schemed as to how to find out such as walking across the street, knocking on the door and saying, "Uh, I'm here for the...uh...", hold out some cash, and hope they fill in the blanks. But today, it was all made clear.

Keith, Scott, and I sat by the window and watched as two people walked into the front yard. My first thought was, "Is that a nun?!?" but I quickly realized she was wearing an apron of the beautician variety. A quick search of the yellow pages revealed a salon at the address across the street. What do you know...I kind of hoped it was a crack house to the middle class.

Honkeytonk Badonkadonk.

Wildhorse week is in full swing here in Nashville. Randy and the band, of which I am one, played our first show tonight to a surprisingly active and receptive audience. We were encouraged by the response and by the way we played together on our first time out. I was encouraged by the fact that I passed myself off as a country guitarist for three hours and that we got done earlier than expected. To me, playing country is sort of like swimming in Jello. You can do it, it's fun because you're swimming in Jello, but you're not really that good at it and certainly can't do it for very long. Ok, so maybe that's not the best example. What I'm saying is I'm a fake when it comes to country and I've never had to fake it for as long as I had to tonight and it went better than I thought it could.

The air is pleasantly cool tonight, lying under the windows in my living room. Our air conditioning blows, but not in the way that it should, and I've slept on my bare mattress for the last two weeks to aleviate the heat. Our landlady has ordered us a new air compressor to hopefully fix the problem. I feel a slight sense of irony over this as it was the air compressor that exploded and burned my last residence down. Fun times. Seriously, it was kind of fun. I can explain sometime if anyone really wants to know why.

You know when you get pre-occupied with something and it makes you worry about insignificant things? This isn't something I normally deal with but right now I feel a bit elsewhere. I don't really like carrying things around like this but I don't really feel like I have any other options. Sorry for being vague. I initially thought about the title of my blog, that sometimes I'm better off not saying anything, which has often been a long-standing policy of mine and not one I care for. But I guess that's out of context. The quote it comes from reads, "I will walk without noise, I will open the door in darkness, and I will." It's from Jonathan Safran Foer's "Everything is Illuminated" and implies a sort of silent obligation which was the whole appeal in the first place. I like the idea of working life and its impending uncertainty with total willingness. It implies a degree of humilty I could pray to one day possess.

Feel free to come see us at the Wildhorse this week. Thursday from 8 til close and Friday from 7 till close. Cheers!

Mr. Whit Goes to Washington...

I finally got connected to the internet after a few days web isolation. It's not that I can't live without the internet but for once, I actually needed to check my email something important, which as of right now, hasn't come. Oh well.

So, I'm in Richmond, helping a friend lead worship at the training center for the International Mission Board. Getting here was a bit of an ordeal as my traveling companion never really confirmed the flight information and when we arrived at the airport at what was believed to be the appropriate time, we discovered our flight had already left. Fun times. They moved us onto a flight through Dallas, which makes perfect sense, and we eventually landed in Norfolk, about five hours late. It was all pretty funny, really.

I went to Washington yesterday and spent some much needed time of solitude wandering the mall. I stopped in at the new World War II memorial, paying homage to people such as my grandfather who understood courage and honor in a way my nihilistic and narcissistic generation could never understand. I felt inspired standing in memorial of people who fought for something important, for life and its integrity. My grandfather was in the Air Force, was shot down twice and received the Purple Heart for his service; we miss him.

After a couple of hours seeing all things related to the mall on Washington, I went to the National Geographic Museum and saw a fascinating exhibit on the Gospel of Judas. There was also this great photographic journal about the restoration of the North Western Archipelago of Hawaii; basically the part of the islands tourists don't go. The photographers took portraits of the wildlife, from crustaceans and fish to birds and the such, in the same way portraits of people are taken. Basically, they were isolated behind some kind of solid background and photographed. It was one of those moments in which I was completely taken in by creation; truly remarkable.

On another note, I confirmed some summer plans yesterday. I am official going on the road with Plumb for close to thirty shows in May and June, starting May 3 and ending June 24th. I'm excited and a bit anxious as I've never been out on the road for that long before. It'll be fun but I've got a lot to do between now and then. That being said, if you read this and want to hang out next week before I leave, let me know. Cheers!

Happy Easter!

Today is Easter and I am lying on the couch in my house with the windows open because our air conditioning is busted. This is the first time I’ve ever spent the holiday away from my family but another family was kind enough to take me in and serve me lunch. I’m not really feeling separation anxiety or anything, especially considering I was home last weekend. If anything, it marks a new stage of independence in my life which is certainly exciting.

I’ve spent much of the day thinking about Easter, the theology behind it all, and its significance to my faith as a Christian. I guess that’s what you do on Easter every year, but this year, I couldn’t help but feel a sort of regret over the way I often treat today. Every year, I devote all kinds of thought, time, and money to Christmas, to birthdays, to myself in general and I think; Is Easter not worthy of the fullest of my attention? Without Easter, my faith would be nothing! I would be better off living as a nihilist passed out in somebody’s pool. I would certainly be hopeless.

But today is the day of my hope! Not that this day in particular is special from any other but the reminder is certainly beneficial and extremely valid. It’s nice to have a day in which I am constantly reminded of the hope I have been given. Death is certain and life would certainly be pointless if I did not have faith in something better, faith in purpose, in love and in hope. I received victory over this hopeless death in Christ and his triumph over death. This is not a celebration fit for candies and greeting cards; this is a celebration of abundant life!

I will always be amazed at the incomprehensible means by which this life has occurred. That a man could be abandoned by the vast majority of his friends and supporters, be offered up to the government as a criminal on par with a murderer and a terrorist. That he could be beat, mocked, and hung naked for the whole world to see. But it says in the Bible that God will not be mocked and even death would be limit for a man that would pay the debt for all of humankind’s inequities. “Sin has lost its power, death has lost its sting,” we sang today in church. How encouraging this is, that Christ would endure what he did, not for us, but for His glory, and in His love remove the debt that would keep us from God. I’ll repeat that. Christ died for because it was the method through which God would show His glory, not directly to save us. Our salvation is the result of Christ becoming a sacrifice and paying the debt for our sin. But God’s glory is the ultimate goal here, even in our salvation. We were never the point but God has chosen us to be redeemed, to be His hands and feet so that God may be glorified. Again, it’s all about God and His glory. A guy I know named David Platt once said, “If God is infinitely good and fully love, then the most loving thing he could do is give us himself.” Well said.

Why is it people of faith regard Christmas in the way that they do, as opposed to Easter, a day that should mean so much more to us? Is it because the whole world accepts Christmas, making the celebration easier? What would people do if we began treating Easter the same, or better yet, out did it? It is my sincere hope that I fully realize the gravity of Christ’s sacrifice and that Easter no longer live in the shadow of a day like Christmas, as great as that day is. Maybe then I will get it all the more. May I leave you with this lyric from a chorus my church closed our service with today. Blessings to all on a truly joyous and remarkable occasion!

“I praise the one who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead.” Amen.

it's a nice day for a....

Well, it wasn't exactly a white wedding, but a wedding none-the-less and it was lovely. The blessed union of Eloise Stiles and Robert Blalock went through without a hitch; well, maybe just one. It was the shortest wedding I've ever been to, about five minutes; just the vows and the rings. It was short and sweet, as they say, and it was about freaking time.

Eloise, my grandmother, and Robert first met when they were in high school. For reasons I'm still not sure of, my grandmother ran off with my grandfather shortly there after. Many years later, after my father was married, my grandparents devorced, and Eloise and Robert found themselves together again and have been for what I guess is about the last 25 years. Hence the, "about freaking time" comment.

The drive home from Florida was something of an act of God. If anyone remembers the storms this past Friday night, I had the blessed fortune of driving from Pensacola to Chattanooga through the middle of it all. Dad told me to drive home through Atlanta to get ahead of the storm, which I did, and missed all kinds of tornados by a matter of minutes.

On the plus side, I love driving and while driving 7 hours through the night in the middle of a huge storm is not necessarily someone's idea of a good time, it is mine. I love to drive; it makes me think and leaves me refreshed, despite not getting home until 4:30 in the morning.

Home was also nice. I haven't been in forever and it was good to get time with my family, get outside for hike, and the such. Chattanooga is a beautiful place, for those who have never been, and I like to be reminded of that from time to time. We went for a hike to this place called Edward's Point (see picture) which has a remarkable view of the river and the Chattanooga valley. Dad and I rented Good Night and Good Luck, easily one of the best movies I've seen in a long time, and stopped to see the only Frank Lloyd Wright house in the state of Tennessee, which is apparently only two minutes drive from my parents. It's a pretty cool house, so I believe I'll post a picture of that as well. Notice the cantilevered carport, which is kind of visible to the right. Also, the trim is not wood but rather poured concrete. I don't know why the sudden interest in Wright but I think this is fascinating.


Finally, my friend Scott gave me some sweet Sharpie tattoos last night. In case these pictures aren't clear enough, one's a bald eagle riding a harley and wailing on a guitar. Notice the flag, the lightning bolts, and the flames. Sweet. The other is an homage of sorts to Dale Earndhart. Part of me is sad this will come off in the shower and the rest of me is grateful I don't have to live with this. Cheers!

the rubber and the road

I had to get new tires today. Why is it that every time you get something done to your car they find some kind of impending catastrophe you need repaired? This time it’s suspension; does that mean car will eventually collapse onto the highway only to skid into some ditch and my demise? I certainly hope not. My hope is, rather, that new tires will provide me with a bit of stability and safety until I can get rid of my car, which is hopefully soon.

I sat in my living room this morning with another hope, that my father would call and upon hearing I was getting new tires today, would offer to buy them for me. And being the remarkable father he is, he did call and he did offer. I, of course, clung to my pride with white knuckles and declined, but simply the fact that he offered brings me comfort knowing my father is still very much my father.

I do the same to my mom. Whenever we talk, I fully expect her to ask various questions that considerately pry into my life. I rarely share details and her poking into my social life, as well as my friends, reminds that she is still my mother, still interested, and still loves me, no matter how closed she might perceive me to be.

I find it all to be funny but endearing.

The reasoning for new tires is that I have to drive to Pensacola this evening for a gig. Tomorrow, the guys and I will play twice and then I have to drive through the night to Chattanooga where my folks live. My grandmother, Eloise Stiles, is marrying her long-time boyfriend, Robert, on Saturday morning. I know him far better than I knew my actual grandfather, despite the fact he lived until the end of my high school years; I guess this has been a long time coming. It’s also my first time home since Christmas and I’m excited about it.

I guess that’s about it for now. Everyone have a good weekend. Get outside, go see a movie. Try Slither, it’s hilarious. Cheers!

changes come

This is a live record from Over the Rhine's "Ohio" tour. If you don't know who Over the Rhine is, they're a husband and wife duo that write some beautiful, spiritually slanted, folk rock. Karen is a siren and the rest of the band is terrific, including Paul Moak who is an evil genious of a guitar player. It's only available on their website but it's cheap and well worth it.

the church that doesn't exist...

I thought this was an interesting article from Relevant regarding the church, what we often expect it to be, and what it should be with regards to our involvement. Happy Monday.

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god_article.php?id=7093

iowa shmiowa

Iowa is a state I have been unable to attach purpose to, but I will wager a guess and say this past weekend there has been more interesting than most I’ve spent anywhere else. I’ll start at the beginning. This may take a while, but stick with it, it’s worth it.

I left town on Friday with a band called Clemency with the intention of playing at a benefit for St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital at Coe College in downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa. We have all the time in the world considering we aren’t scheduled to play until 1 AM on Sunday morning. We head north into Illinois and the completely asinine interstate system that runs through-out the state. Despite the fact that there are thirteen, yes thirteen, different varicose arteries of the Eisenhower interstate system on this slice of middle America, one must drive four hours northeast to the east edge of the state in order to then cross west to Iowa. Foolishness, I say.

Regardless, we get about 40 miles from the Iowa border before we stop to spend a night enjoying the marvelous shower heads at the Holiday Inn Express. We sleep late, eat breakfast, cross over the mighty Missisip into Iowa and Iowa City where we squander our afternoon at the local Barnes and Nobles before going on to Cedar Rapids, which is only about 20 minutes away.

Cedar Rapids is the “city of five seasons,” a bit of trivia that no one in the city could actually explain to us. It is also the home of Quaker Oats and the entire town smells like oatmeal, depending on what day of the week it is. It is also darn near impossible to get a hotel room there as we got the last, and I mean last, room in the city at the Economy Inn and Suites, which was neither economical or anything slightly resembling a suite unless you count the miniature coffee pot in the bathroom. Or maybe the kitchenette in the lobby.

Our contact for the event calls us to fill us in on the details as we are lounging in the room watching NCAA basketball, an activity I did with my back to the TV. She tells us that she’s a bit disorganized because she caught her boyfriend in bed with another girl this morning. She had ignored our earlier calls because she had driven half-way to Milwaukee in an act of self-preservation before deciding to return. We’re told to go to the school’s gymnasium and when we arrive, they ask us if we have our own PA. This is never a good sign. The girl has obviously been crying, but is very sweet and gracious. In fact, the fractal sampling of the student body we encountered was just like this as Coe College proved a friendly place.

The short of the next six or so hours is that the school is hosting a fund-raising lock-in for St. Jude’s, an activity that only drew 20 or so people, including the girl who slept with our contact’s boyfriend. We played Jenga, I learned how to swing dance with a girl who bore a shocking resemblance to my friend Emily DeLoach (I have pictures), and we even shared the stage with a band called, “Oh Sh** and the Ruptured Rubbers.” After the show, they announced their name had changed to the Trojan Whores. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

After we all feasted on their home-made stew of jam-based rock and blues, we took the stage with our own brew of pop rock, no doubt shocking the small yet eager crowd with the fact that we were a Christian band. This was no matter, and in fact wound up being a great tie-in to the whole St. Jude’s thing. Jude was the patron saint of lost causes, and Christ made me aware of His own capability in such things long ago. We played, we made some friends, and a good time was had by all.
OK, now for the fun stuff. It was about 2:30 in the morning and we were all hungary so we made our way to the Perkin’s Restaurant next to our hotel. In the parking lot, a man who was obviously drunk did not hesitate to inform me of how he could have easily gone to bed with a woman who had just left the lot. As I was at a loss for words, I kept walking and he followed. He then offered us $20 to steal a police car next to the building so that he wouldn’t be caught drunk in public. I said I’d do it for $21 but then kindly declined. The lobby was bustling with a bizarre mix of white trash and homosexuals, all of whom were openly talking about sex. If that wasn’t weird enough, a six-and-a-half foot tall black woman walks into the lobby, sporting an Adam’s apple. Now, I might be wrong, but these two things don’t really go well together. In other words, “she” was an obvious Ru Paul admirer. A patron turns to us and says, “I’m too drunk for this stuff,” and from the looks of it, he was far from the only one.

We get to our table and quickly make friends with the people at the booth next to us. One of them is from Clarksville, TN, and asks us who we are, etc. They ask for a CD so Paul, the bass player, goes to the car and comes back with a CD for everyone on our side of the restaurant. This apparently made the waitress’s night, who kept saying, “Wow, this is so great. I just can’t believe it. You guys are great. I just can’t believe it. Wow, this is so great.” And so on...every time she came to the table. She was a little spacey but sweet never the less.

As the aforementioned table next to us left, a guy who was obviously drunk and a bit autistic came to the table with his CD. He asked if we had a permanent marker, presumably for an autograph. We said no, but the server gave him a pen. He then proceeds to autograph Paul’s jacket with the words, “Beef Cake.” He says it’s his nickname. We ask why and he says, “Because my friend won $100.” Right. He then moves on to Justin, the drummer, and signs his jacket. He then sits down at the booth behind me and realizes my jacket is too dark to write on so he leans over and writes “Beef Cake” on my THIGH!!! He proceeds to do the same to Jason, who poses the same dilemma, and then walks off yelling, “My friend won $100!”

Then, as we are leaving, the manager of the restaurant asks us for a CD to give to a server who is off-duty. “He’s all in to that Christian stuff,” she says, “He’s 19 and he’s still a virgin.” Paul then replies, “You don’t say,” to which she says, “Yeah, he’s 19 and he’s never even had sex!” Thanks for the clarification.

That’s about I really feel like sharing about the weekend. I will say, it’s funny how people who aren’t Christians react to those who are. Take the 19-year-old virgin, for instance. It was sort of like we were from a different country. I find it humbling to see how God uses us in any situation, providing us the opportunity to minister to not only the 20 or so people at the school but also to the people in the restaurant. Who knows when they’ll listen to the CD and what they’ll get from it. And in spite of that, our natural reaction is to be discouraged at a small turnout.

I’ve said too much so I best be moving on. Cheers!

the times they are a changin

They say that life comes in seasons, eras maybe, and when those times pass, that they may never be reclaimed. They say that life comes at you fast. Whoever they are, I hate them. There, I said it.

Two nights ago, I made a somewhat, and by somewhat I mean frequent, trip to the local Waffle House, an edifice I've possibly spent more time in than even the house where I currently reside, and I uncovered some startling news. That's what happens when you go to a Baptist college and you and your friends lack the motivation to seek out more typical college activites or dare I say, date. And through our nearly nightly visits we made the aquaintence of a sweet waitress named Sharon who would eventually know us so well as to place our drinks on the table when our car hit the parking lot. Over the years, 5 to be exact, we've had our ups and downs, but Sharon has always been there.

Two nights ago, I arrived to find a somewhat somber Sharon who quickly informs me it is her last night on the job after 15 years of working the third shift. She tells me her husband is sick and "not doing so well" and that she needs to go and be with him in Illinois. Now, as rediciulous as it may or may not seem, I was devasted. She was on the verge of crying the whole time we were there; it's hard to see someone you've come to love, leaving a place she loves being, in no more than a literal whimper.

I hate to see her go and realize I probably wont see her again so farewell, sweet Sharon. When I go on medication for my high cholesterol, I will know you were an intrical part of it (you think I'm kidding, ask my parents, or my physician).

relevant cinema

This week's trip to the movies was for The Wachowski Brother's V for Vendetta, a savvy political comentary about the power of government over the indifference and fear of it's people. The principal character, V, is an homage to Guy Fawkes, a 17th century Englishman who attempted to blow up Parliament to start a people's revolt against the government. People should not fear their government but the government, rather, should fear its people. That is, if the people are willing to stand up. It takes a leader, someone to pave the way, and here we find V. It's a little 1984, a little Farenheit 451, and a pretty good movie so check it out.

In the news this morning, I read where the US is not accepting the results of this weekend's presidential election in Belarus (former Soviet Union) and is calling for an investigation into potential fraud and a new vote. The reasoning is that the incumbent leader, Alexander Lukashenko, provided a context of fear that lead the people to feal they no choice but to vote for his re-election. Governments have used fear and threats for centuries to create the perception of public support and the reality of control over the general populace. Vendetta uses this idea, borrowing 1984's premise of creating the news to show the people how much they need their government as protection against the world at large, empowering the totalitarian regime.

It's really interesting to me how much we accept as fact and how much trust we place in the powers that be, as if some upper-class Ivy leaguers could ever really understand the needs of the the remaining 270 million or so people they make decisions for. At what point does the power we assign through democracy translate into power being taken away from the people?

I'm not paranoid or turning into a conspiracy theorist by any means, I just enjoy a thought provoking film every now and then, especially when history and current events provide credibility. Happy Monday!

Here's a posting from my favorite internet humor site, Timothy McSweeney's Interet Tendency. They do these lists and they're quite funny and rediculous. Here's an example.

Secret Canadian
Superweapons in
Development.

BY WYNN QUON

- - - -

Titanium Mountie

Canadarm face slapper

Ballistic beavernauts

120 mm maple-syrup mortar

Peacekeeping robot that attacks you by surprise

Bioengineered crazy lumberjack choppers

Is that all the guster you can muster?

Upon reading over my last blog, I kind of had to laugh at myself. If anyone's seen Donnie Darko, then you know about motivational speaker turned child pornographer, Jim Cunningham, who quoted the line above. Throughout the movie Cunningham talks about how all of our actions are based in either fear or love and the point is that there are obviously a lot of other emotions floating around in there. He's obviously the brunt of a lot of jokes during the movie and after reading the disjointed rambling below, I can't help but laugh and think it sounds like I had taken a Jim Cunningham seminar a bit too seriously. It's a great movie, watch it if you haven't. I still mean it anyway.

thoughts on a sunday

I watched this movie twice this weekend. Why? Because it’s amazing. Hitchcock has this way of just sucking you into a story, despite the way they may seem dated by many of todays standards or better yet, expectations, of film. The contrast of light, the brilliant colors (even in his black and white movies), the always dynamic leading man and the signature Hitchcock blonde; couple these things with a creative and timeless story and the films still are stunning. Hitchcock was known to labor over his work, building elaborate sets and even breaking for days at a time to ponder potential holes in the plot to make sure the stories are intelligent and complete. Often times I’ve heard friends pass these movies off as dated, that the suspense doesn’t hold up, but to me it’s like saying Faulkner or Hemmingway are dated compared to contemporary literature. You have to know where the art is coming from, especially if you are going to watch it for arts’ sake.

I’ve heard it said many times that what set the films apart was Hitchcock’s use of our most basic emotion, fear. I got to thinking about that claim and I affirm it. If love is our most noble and precious emotion, our most fulfilling and even heart-aching, and if fear is the absence of love (I’ve heard this as well and I agree), then fear is certainly our most basic emotion. When all of the love and compassion in our lives is taken away, what is left? Fear. No wonder it has such an effect on every aspect of our lives. Hitchcock’s films are a case study of ordinary people responding to fear and it’s fascinating.

As I am thinking about this, I am sitting on my back porch reading 1984 and listening to the music the hispanic family down the street is playing rather loudly. I think about diversity, about how grateful I am to live in a part of town that embraces diversity, how I love it. I think about how many people don’t love it and refuse to embrace it, see it as a threat even, and as a result fear the presence of minorities in their neighborhoods. I even grew up in a neighborhood that once forbid Jews and African-Americans to live there. This adds paranoia to our lives, causing us to lock our car doors at intersections or avoid all but the main roads when out for a jog. This drives property values down and causes schools to deteriorate. This tells people their communities aren’t worth having pride in, that their ambitions aren’t as valid as the rest of us. This adds to the difference, and that saddens me.

I look back down at the book and read a striking line. “Orthodoxy is unconsciousness.” What a striking line! While the book is talking about government, I can’t help but think about religion. I thought about how orthodoxy can be so beautiful and rooted in meaning (think prayer postures and the use of early church art to help the illiterate), but I also think about how a lot of it is rooted in a church tradition that feared its membership growing outside the teachings of the church. Their fear of individual spirituality spurred a myriad of church tradition that attempted to squelch the expression of many great thinkers and artists (think Galileo). It is as if somewhere down the line much orthodoxy is rooted in fear, even with the best intentions and methods, because it says, “I do not trust you to do this on your own.” Our modern churches are certainly guilty of this fear as well, turning our physical churches into shelters from the world around us, shutting out the dark to protect us from the things that threaten to destroy our neat Christian existence. We teach self-centered theology, that the church is more of a building running on time-tested schedules than a body of believers shining in the darkness. Spirituality becomes strict religion, born of our fear.

At this, I put my book my book down and started to ponder spirituality and nature, the way that I have been so blessed to experience God through creation. A tree in my backyard is blooming small pink blossoms, budding out of tight yellow-green clusters. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know what kind of tree it is but I am struck by its beauty. I grabbed my vintage camera (thanks Dad) and took some pictures of the flowers. I see my Lord here and I am so thankful for a God that says, “I trust you enough to see me in creation, in the small details of your life, working it out without having it all written out for you.” There is no fear here, only love. How amazing!!!

So why then do I experience so much fear in my life? Work with me as I’m tracing through a lot of thoughts here but fear is an undeniable topic this weekend. If you read down through this blog or have talked with me at length, you’ll know I have my fair share of insecurities. These exist mostly in social and musical contexts and still often mystify me. When I think about dating, I get so clammy and nervous and rarely act upon any impulse to get to know anyone. I fear going to parties or even gatherings with people from my church. When I play somewhere, I worry about whether or not my playing fits, or if my gear sounds good despite the fact I know I am a capable, competent guitarist with some terrific sounding equipment. Even this morning at church, someone asked to hear my new amplifier (which is sweet, by the way) and I was worried about whether or not he would like how it sounded. These things might not seem like much but that’s precisely the point; why do I experience fear in areas I have no reason to? It is such a part of our lives, and such an un-Godly thing.
I need to be reminded of fear and its manifestations that I may learn to live in love. I am grateful of Christ’s love, its unconditional and uncompromising ways, the way it is completely void of fear and I pray to live in love with God and with people around me.

blessings!

Lanois

If the only thing you know about Daniel Lanois is that he produced some U2 records, please go out and get some of his albums. Shine, or Acadie, or whatever else. It's inspiring.

humble pie

I suppose I'll give an update from the last post on my Oscar predictions, the closest thing to an NCAA bracket you'll ever see me do. The official tally was 12 out of 24, an F by most standards, unless you go to Brown or some place like that. But I did win a prize at my friend's Oscar party (merely by default). I was pleased and very surprised to see George Clooney win as well as Rachel Weiss. And the 3-6 Mafia?!? Are you serious? As Jon Stewart said, "It just got a little easier out there for a pimp." And of course, the upset for the evening, Crash, was a huge surprise and kind of disappointing. I confess I've maybe been a little unfair towards this movie but it still should never have won best picture. There's this tragic thing in the Academy where the indies or even the major studio films that don't pull the box-office never seem to win, such as Traffic, Fargo, and In the Bedroom. Of this year's five films, the other four where definately superior to Crash, which is disappointing. I'm not trying to insult anyone for liking Crash, I liked it as well, it was just the weakest nomination this year. So please go see the others if you haven't, they're terrific.

I left town with a friend this week, not really going home with him, but to a sort of home away from home. It's sort of strange watching someone you're very close to hanging out with other people he's really close to, being a sort of fly on the wall in his life. Situations like that seem to bring my shyness to the front and while I had fun, I think about how I rarely make accurate first impressions. I'm not unstable or anything but I do think it takes a while to get to know me. I would even say there are people I've known for years who still don't have an accurate idea of who I am. Does that make sense? I'm not sure if it's having walls up or what the deal is. Or maybe it's just that I'm overly shy and protective on the outset, which I guess is like having walls up. I just answered that question.

Oscars!

The entire year is filled with various sports championship, redicuous award shows and opporunities for Hollywood and the celebrity population at large to praise each other and make the rest of us hate our already plentiful lives. The way I see it, there are only two exceptions I maintain throught out the year: Formula 1 and the Oscars. Who cares about the former, plus the latter's time has come as well as the time for my completely shocking and awe-inspiring predictions. OK, so maybe not awe-inspiring. But never the less, forget about the NCAA's or all of Mariah Carey's Grammy's, it's Oscar weekend!

This is how it will work. I name each category, who I think will win, and the name of the film or crew recipiant(if applicable). Then who I want to win, and maybe a description of why, will be in parenthesis next to it. No parenthetical reference indicates the winner and my hopeful are one in the same. I will also comment on the prediction if I feel the need to. Please note: I don't really take this that seriously but when you don't really care about sports, and the Grammy's suck, there's not a lot of popular culture for me to be excitied about. So endulge me.

Actor in a Leading Role
Philip Seymore Hoffman - Capote
He simply has to...see the film if you haven't...

Actor in a Supporting Role
Jake Gyllenhaal - Brokeback Mountain (George Clooney - Syriana: he was my favorite supporting performance this year but it'll never happen)
Jake's good in this movie and the hype is in his favor

Actress in a Leading Role
Reese Witherspoon - Walk the Line (I want her to win, but I must give Felicity Huffman honorable mention)
It'd be nice to see a local girl, masterfully portraying another local girl, win...

Actress in a Supporting Role
Michelle Williams - Brokeback Mountain (Catherine Keener - Capote)
All five women in this category deserve the award.

Animated Feature
Wallace and Gromit in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit - Nick Park and Steve Box
They spent five years on this film and it shows.

Art Direction
King Kong - Grant Major, Dan Hennah, and Simon Bright
Sin City was snubbed for a nomination here.

Cinematography
Good Night and Good Luck - Robert Elswit
Beautiful and tense; simply terrific

Costume Design
Walk the Line - Arianne Phillips (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Gabriella Pescucci)
The Academy seems to favor the realisitc and accessable (don't hold me to this, or any of it, for that matter)

Directing
Brokeback Mountain - Ang Lee (anything but Crash)
Lee will get it, but Clooney (Goodnight), Miller (Capote), and Spielberg (Munich) all masterfully made original films. From a direction, I repeat - direction, point of view, Crash is such a rip-off of PT Anderson's Magnolia, it should never have been nominated. If you don't believe me, rent both movies and watch them consecutively.

Documentary
March of the Penguins - Luc Jacquet and Yves Darondeau (Murderball - Henry-Alex Rubin and Dana Adam Shapiro)

Documentary Short
God Sleeps in Rwanda - Kimberlee Acquaro and Stacy Sherman
I haven't seen any of these, but Rwanda is a favorite subject so I'm assuming (yes, I know what happens when I assume).

Film Editing
Crash - Hughes Winborne (The Constant Gardner - Claire Simpson)
Everyone seems to love Crash, but Gardner was pieced together so well; plus the editor, Claire Simpson, previously won for Platoon so she's good.

Foreign Language Film
Tsotsi
I haven't seen any of these but the word is out for Tsotsi, or maybe Paradise Now; I like the whole suicide bomber idea.

Make-up
Star Wars:Episode III The Revenge of the Sith - Dave Elsey and Nikki Gooley

Music (Score)
Brokeback Mountain - Gustavo Santaolalla
Original, minimal and spacial without being minimalist.

Music (Song)
"Travelin' Thru" from Transamerica - Dolly Parton
It's Dolly, come on...

Best Picture
Brokeback Mountain - Diana Ossana and James Schamus, Producers (Capote)
Oh, the hype...Capote really was the best so please support it.

Short Film (Animated)
How should I know?

Short Film (Live Action)
Where do you see these things anyway?

Sound Editing
King Kong - Mike Hopkins and Ethan Van der Ryn
Awesome...

Sound Mixing
Walk the Line - Paul Massey, D.M. Hemphill and Peter F. Kurland
All of the applause and such...tough work

Visual Effects
King Kong - Joe Letteri, Brian Van’t Hul, Christian Rivers and Richard Taylor
About the best looking film I have ever seen.

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)
Brokeback Mountain (Capote)
Larry McMurtrey...he's great, but "In Cold Blood" created a genre and the adapted text was terrific.

Writing (Original Screenplay)
Crash - Paul Haggis & Bobby Moresco (Syriana)
Again, Crash seems to be a favorite, but I really appreciated the complexity and vision behind Syriana, though the execution hurt it a bit.

OK, that's it. I'm not an expert, I just like movies and at the present moment, this is more interesting than anything else I have to do today. And besides, even the "experts" have no idea. Sunday at 8/7 central!

public service announcement

First, I must begin with a confession; I really like tea. To be more specific, I like loose leaf tea with a dollop of milk and a teaspoon of sugar. Yesterday, with this in mind, I decided to go find a tea pot with my friend Jordan. We wandered into Davis Cookware and Cutlery, the quaint and cluttered little shop in Hillsboro Village, to find a shelf full of pots. The clerk, along with his brother and father, was quick to help, leading me to a pot in my price range and then talking me through a selection of teas. As time progressed, our conversation switched to music and the man's brother quickly chimed in. We talked about Monterey Pop, CSNY, Zeppelin, King Crimson, and a whole world of live music that the two brothers had the pleasure of enjoying. Jordan and I shared in their joy at recounting their experiences and left the store an hour later, charmed from my experience. The bottom line is the men in this store are delightful, helpful, and their tea is terrific. If you drink tea, or need kitchen ware, please pay them a visit and help to keep them open.

Oddly enough, I saw a ghost from my recent past in the Village as we drove away. His name is Johnny Bonanno and if you have kept up with my life at all in the last three months, you know exactly who he is. If not, check out the lone blog on my myspace page. The short of it, otherwise, is that he's the guy who scammed some bandmates and myself into thinking we were going on tour with Shania Twain. And there he was, walking in the Village. I was stunned and simply couldn't even muster the energy to speak to him. I had deleted all the numbers of people relevant to the incident as a way of letting it go so I had no way of contacting the other people involved in the scam. All I could do, or really felt like doing, was just stare. I honestly thought he was dead; long story.

Tomorrow, I head to a banquet for abstinence education. My sister is the CEO of this non-profitt group in Chattanooga and some friends and I are doing dinner music. Nothing like playing romantic jazz standards at an abstinence dinner. Cheers.