ODDS & ENDS FOR JANUARY—Coffee, Bagpipes, Scots, Bewilderment [T, 1-4-22]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter

COFFEE TIME

[For Paul Mallory, with apologies to DuBose Heyward and George Gershwin]

Coffee time

And the sippin’ is easy

Caffeine runnin’

Down into my veins

Brain synapses

Are beginnin’ to function

So stop groanin’ old head

You’re gonna wake up

 

One of these days

You’re gonna rise up screamin’

You forgot to order

From the coffee bean place

You gotta go out

And buy stuff in public

So don’t forget

To put a mask on your face

 

EVERYBODY LOVES A BAGPIPE

On 1-1-22 we watched the London New Year parade. Ended with an all-Indian bagpipe band. The name was two very long words I can’t remember, pronounce, or spell, ending with Swamibapa Pipe Band. Full Scottish regalia, including kilts and sporrans and the whole outfit. About two dozen Indian men in their 20s to 40s, playing American folk songs, like “Camptown Races” and “Yankee Doodle” and “Comin’ Round the Mountain.” They had every imaginable Scottish doo-dad on their uniforms, plus one small ornament that looks like a depiction of four Hindu gods. Or maybe the band’s founder. Whatever, it was the most marvelous mishmash. Makes me proud to be a Scot, because everybody else wants to be one, too.

 

EXCEPT MAYBE THE FOLKS AT THE MOTEL

Reminds me of the time a Sunday morning worship service was coming up at Wesley UMC in Charleston, IL, and every organist in town was going on vacation. I knew a guy who played bagpipes and thought it would be neat for him to provide our music. He agreed to come play for us, the whole agenda—prelude, postlude, hymn accompaniment, etc. For Prelude he chose a piece called “Macfarlane’s Gathering.” That was thoughtful, but despite their titles, all his pieces sounded very similar. I asked him when he got time to practice. “Oh, I’m the night manager at a motel,” he said. “I practice then.” I was glad when the organists came back. I don’t know if motel guests ever came back. 

 EVEN THE NORWEGIANS

            I had a dental hygienist whose last name was Scott. She was very proud of her Norwegian heritage. I said, as best I could with her hands in my mouth, “Wait a minute. How can you be Norwegian if your name is Scott?”

            “My people had some trouble in Scotland,” she said. [Quite possibly with the McFarlanes, although I didn’t speculate on that, since she had sharp instruments] “and fled to Norway. The locals couldn’t pronounce their clan name, just called them the Scots. So, that became our family name. But we’re fjord people, not loch people.” Yeah, just try singing “…on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Fjord Lomond” and see how it sounds!

BEWILDERMENT

I just finished Bewilderment by Richard Powers. He writes so, so well. And he is so, so smart. As with all his books, I am a bit overwhelmed. I’ll need to read it 2 or 3 more times.

There are billions, perhaps trillions, of universes “out there.” But Powers asks the bewildering question: Is the space out there, or the space in there, larger, more bewildering?

John Robert McFarland

Bonus quote via Ron Wetzell: “Adversity doesn’t create character; it reveals it.”

And via Ron, from Maya Angelo, to start the morning: “What a beautiful day. I haven’t seen this one before.”