Sunday, June 22, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
She (and they) worth the drive
It was a long trip back from central Illinois today, bypassing the flooded highways of southern Wisconsin. But the visit to granddaughter's (and daughter's and son-in-law's) was worth it.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Lake Delton's disappearance
Lake Delton disappeared last week.
Sounds like the beginning of a Robert Ludlum or Thomas Pynchon novel, doesn't it? Last week's news story seemed stranger than fiction. The storm-ravaged lake in the heart of Wisconsin's tourist country burst its earthen perimeter and within two hours disembogued 600 million gallons of water.
The official response poured forth as swiftly as the lake's discharge into the nearby Wisconsin River. We'll refill the lake, Gov. James Doyle reassured would-be visitors and propietors of the tourism industry, whose livelihood dried up faster than you can say Dells Visitor and Convention Bureau.
The lake is (was?) home to the famed Tommy Bartlett acrobatic water ski show, a portion of the charmingly anachronistic Duck boat tours, and several resorts that ringed the 267-acre lake. The Wisconsin Dells known and loved by tourists -- including its kitschy main street -- exists far beyond the lake's shores, so visitors still can find plenty of mini golf. But losing the lake in the middle of it all nonetheless drains some of the enthusiasm.
Everyone respects the economic impact of the swampy void that is Lake Delton, as well as the several other flood-related afflictions across the state last week. But while we're quick to express shock at the consequences, where's the wonder at the climactic and geological forces at work?
This story is about sediment and spillways as much as dollars and destinations. (Ironically, Lake Delton is a newly sensationational tourist temptation for onlookers curious about what a lake looks like underneath all that water.)
The Chicago Tribune reported the response of University of Wisconsin sedimentary geologist Shanan Peters to the lake's sudden purge. He said the result reminded him of a glacial lake draining, which is exactly what exposed the Dells millenniums ago, according to the Tribune. "A finger of water found its way through loose soil and the soft sandstone, and then a torrent followed it," the newspaper reported.
The Tribune continued: "Civil engineering experts and geologists blame prodigious downpours that in recent weeks soaked and softened the low point between Lake Delton and the river.
A spillway and dam couldn't keep pace with the lake's rising waters, which cut a yellow gash in the ancient, erosion-prone sandstone that ran straight to the river. And then the lake went down the drain.''
To me, that's the fascination of this cataclysm. Anyone who's ever traced a leak in their roof knows water goes where it wills itself to go. This is waterworks writ large, and a fascinating moment in Wisconsin's geology and geography, not just a scourge upon its economy.
Sounds like the beginning of a Robert Ludlum or Thomas Pynchon novel, doesn't it? Last week's news story seemed stranger than fiction. The storm-ravaged lake in the heart of Wisconsin's tourist country burst its earthen perimeter and within two hours disembogued 600 million gallons of water.
The official response poured forth as swiftly as the lake's discharge into the nearby Wisconsin River. We'll refill the lake, Gov. James Doyle reassured would-be visitors and propietors of the tourism industry, whose livelihood dried up faster than you can say Dells Visitor and Convention Bureau.
The lake is (was?) home to the famed Tommy Bartlett acrobatic water ski show, a portion of the charmingly anachronistic Duck boat tours, and several resorts that ringed the 267-acre lake. The Wisconsin Dells known and loved by tourists -- including its kitschy main street -- exists far beyond the lake's shores, so visitors still can find plenty of mini golf. But losing the lake in the middle of it all nonetheless drains some of the enthusiasm.
Everyone respects the economic impact of the swampy void that is Lake Delton, as well as the several other flood-related afflictions across the state last week. But while we're quick to express shock at the consequences, where's the wonder at the climactic and geological forces at work?
This story is about sediment and spillways as much as dollars and destinations. (Ironically, Lake Delton is a newly sensationational tourist temptation for onlookers curious about what a lake looks like underneath all that water.)
The Chicago Tribune reported the response of University of Wisconsin sedimentary geologist Shanan Peters to the lake's sudden purge. He said the result reminded him of a glacial lake draining, which is exactly what exposed the Dells millenniums ago, according to the Tribune. "A finger of water found its way through loose soil and the soft sandstone, and then a torrent followed it," the newspaper reported.
The Tribune continued: "Civil engineering experts and geologists blame prodigious downpours that in recent weeks soaked and softened the low point between Lake Delton and the river.
A spillway and dam couldn't keep pace with the lake's rising waters, which cut a yellow gash in the ancient, erosion-prone sandstone that ran straight to the river. And then the lake went down the drain.''
To me, that's the fascination of this cataclysm. Anyone who's ever traced a leak in their roof knows water goes where it wills itself to go. This is waterworks writ large, and a fascinating moment in Wisconsin's geology and geography, not just a scourge upon its economy.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
But it's too bright to read at the beach
I remember summers past according to the books read during those salubrious months of repose. Roger Angell's The Summer Game was the year before sixth grade. Stephen King's On Writing was three decades later, the New York summer. The Grapes of Wrath filled one afternoon and the next morning in the June of '87. Victor Hugo's Les Miserables consumed parts of a couple of summers, during neither of which did I come close to finishing the 1,463-page Signet Classic paperpack edition. Not counting 1,000 Places to See Before You Die, which I just picked up at a Goodwill for $3, here are some others I've cracked open or will soon.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Going global
A grad-school semester ends quietly, audible only in a collective exhale of relief. When the high school year ends, it does so with the clamor of a giant street party. For Jackson, sophomore year ended literally in jazz and celebration. Pictured here, he and the NRHS jazz ensemble closed out the year with an appearance at the state contest and the annual spring concert. Then it was off to Knoxville, Tenn., where the school's Destination Imagination® team competed for the second consecutive year at the Global Finals. The results are in: NRHS took 16th. That topped last year's placing of 21st (tied with Corpus Christi, Texas, and Victoria Junior College of Singapore). This morning they piled back into a borrowed RV for the return trip to Wisconsin.2008 Destination Imagination® Global Finals
Hit or Myth, Secondary Level
Top 25 (total of 52 schools competing)
1, Conroe (Texas) Academy of Science. 2, Miamisburg (Ohio) HS. 3, Oxford Hills (Maine) Comprehensive HS. 4, Plano (Texas) ISD. 5, St. Francis (Minn.) HS. 6t, Clarence School (N.Y.); Brimfield (Mass.) Monson HS. 7, Lynnfield (Mass.) HS. 8, Fairfield (Iowa) Maharishi School Gold. 9, Cordova (Tenn.) Hutchison School. 10, Concord (N.H.) HS. 11, Ravenna (Mich.) HS. 12, Ferndale (Mich.) Southfield Christian. 13, Central at Raymond (Neb.) 14, Bourbon (Ind.) Triton HS. 15, Humboldt (Tenn.) Milan HS. 16, New Richmond (Wis.) HS. 17, Woodridge (Ill.) Willowbrook. 18t, Yorktown Heights (N.Y.) HS; Penrose (Colo.) Florence HS. 19, Rockville (Md.) Richard Montgomery. 20t, Alliance (Ohio) Marlington Schools; Middleton (Wis.) HS. 21t, Carl Junction (Mo.) HS; Norco (Calif.) HS. 22, Auburn (N.H.) Pinkerton Academy. 23, Germantown (Wis.) HS. 24, Norton Shore (Mich.) Mona Shores School. 25, Vashon (Wash.) Annie Wright School.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
A preaching party
Naomi Tutu (photo by steve 22 may 08)We spent the past week with 2,100 preachers attending the Festival of Homiletics in Minneapolis. Don't you wish you were there?
There was inspiration in abundance. Some of it came from the country's best preachers, who lectured and preached for five days. But some came from "normal" people. Normal people such as Naomi Tutu. She told a few tales on her famous father, the South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
When Naomi and her siblings were young, they would begin murmuring "Amen" when they believed it was time for dad to wrap up his sermon, a cue he came to rely upon. Years later, he was asked to preach in an African-American church in the southern U.S. No sooner had Tutu begun speaking than the congregation began shouting "Amen." (In clergy circles, that's a funny story.)
In her own right, Naomi Tutu is an expert on race, justice and reconciliation. Another real treat was Beth Nielsen Chapman. On her latest CD, Prism, she sings in nine languages. She is melodic, spiritual and real. Another highlight was Prudence Johnson, especially when she sang an old Greg Brown tune. (See, preachers can have fun.)
See related post on the Festival of Homiletics.
There was inspiration in abundance. Some of it came from the country's best preachers, who lectured and preached for five days. But some came from "normal" people. Normal people such as Naomi Tutu. She told a few tales on her famous father, the South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
When Naomi and her siblings were young, they would begin murmuring "Amen" when they believed it was time for dad to wrap up his sermon, a cue he came to rely upon. Years later, he was asked to preach in an African-American church in the southern U.S. No sooner had Tutu begun speaking than the congregation began shouting "Amen." (In clergy circles, that's a funny story.)
In her own right, Naomi Tutu is an expert on race, justice and reconciliation. Another real treat was Beth Nielsen Chapman. On her latest CD, Prism, she sings in nine languages. She is melodic, spiritual and real. Another highlight was Prudence Johnson, especially when she sang an old Greg Brown tune. (See, preachers can have fun.)
See related post on the Festival of Homiletics.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Staying in Jesusville for $12 a night
I've been in school so long I can't bear to imagine how many miles I've put on my car commuting to and from class. I'm often asked why seminaries don't offer correspondence courses. Some do. But the two I've attended don't for the most part. Despite the dents in my debit card from all those fill-ups at $3.73 a gallon, I believe that's a good thing.
Education doesn't take place in a vacuum. There's a good deal to be learned by class discussion. Hearing something in person deepens what you absorb in reading. And because Christianity is relational, learning in a classroom environment requires you to grapple with your own thoughts in light of how other people are experiencing and interpreting the material. (Not surprisingly, often quite differently than you are!)
Still, much of my education has been as a commuter student (except for some wonderful extended stays in Evanston). Now, as a UTS student in the Twin Cities, I motor in for class and then return to my abode. Said abode, however, is unavailable for these last two weeks of the semester, so I'm staying overnight in an on-campus commuter apartment. As one fellow squatter said last week, "welcome to Jesusville." And it costs only $12 a night.
I doubt I can live in our own home for $12 a night. Beyond the benefits of frugality, however, living where you learn gives you an entirely new perspective. It wrests you out of the fragmentation of "this is school, this is work, this is home, etc." It makes you feel like a participant in the whole learning thing, not just an observer or a note-taker.
I think that's why it's so important that churches need to create a space beyond a one-hour worship service for the give-and-take, the learning, the grappling, the questioning, the meal-sharing, etc. Without entering into that space, we can never really integrate what we learn with how we live.
I'm too old to go back to dorm life. But I'm heading back to Jesusville for a couple more nights as the semester ends this week. It's a good model for living with one another: be a good roomate, pick up after yourself, and bring your own linens.
Education doesn't take place in a vacuum. There's a good deal to be learned by class discussion. Hearing something in person deepens what you absorb in reading. And because Christianity is relational, learning in a classroom environment requires you to grapple with your own thoughts in light of how other people are experiencing and interpreting the material. (Not surprisingly, often quite differently than you are!)
Still, much of my education has been as a commuter student (except for some wonderful extended stays in Evanston). Now, as a UTS student in the Twin Cities, I motor in for class and then return to my abode. Said abode, however, is unavailable for these last two weeks of the semester, so I'm staying overnight in an on-campus commuter apartment. As one fellow squatter said last week, "welcome to Jesusville." And it costs only $12 a night.
I doubt I can live in our own home for $12 a night. Beyond the benefits of frugality, however, living where you learn gives you an entirely new perspective. It wrests you out of the fragmentation of "this is school, this is work, this is home, etc." It makes you feel like a participant in the whole learning thing, not just an observer or a note-taker.
I think that's why it's so important that churches need to create a space beyond a one-hour worship service for the give-and-take, the learning, the grappling, the questioning, the meal-sharing, etc. Without entering into that space, we can never really integrate what we learn with how we live.
I'm too old to go back to dorm life. But I'm heading back to Jesusville for a couple more nights as the semester ends this week. It's a good model for living with one another: be a good roomate, pick up after yourself, and bring your own linens.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Do you know the way to Santa Fe?
We went car shopping today. Well, not really shopping, because buying a car when only one of you is working and the other is in grad school isn't exactly tops on a financial planner's to-do list. But with the cost of gas outpacing the cost of tuition, it's pretty compelling to look for new wheels. Besides which, our two cars are a combined 15 years old with a cumulative 341,000 miles. That's 13 1/2 times around the Earth. These were the two test drives we're still talking about. Guess which one is whose favorite? Above left: The 2008 Hyundai Santa Fe. Above right: The 2004 MINI Cooper (in British Racing Green).
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