Welcome, and pardon our dust

by the Night Writer

NW on train w-rivetsThe Rev. Mother does fine work, doesn’t she? It must be the inspiration.

It was a productive weekend and we finally got the new blog home up and running. I’m telling you, it was exhausting watching Kevin hammer at my keyboard for most of the afternoon Saturday as he managed to route nearly 1500 posts (and 3 hours worth of images) from Powerblogs, via Movable Type, to WordPress. Good thing he works for Schlitz and pizza.

Almost everything made it over from the old site to here, except for the categories and, for some reason, the appropriate author tags.  I spent a good chunk of Sunday trying to fill in the blanks and playing around with the new features and widgets. There’s still a lot to be done, but at least we’re posting. The biggest thing I’ve yet to figure out is how to get the super-coolio new logo the Reverend Mother created for me up in the header where it belongs. Just about everything else in WordPress is pretty intuitive but I can’t get the image to appear yet or add the quote of the week. I’ve actually had to resort to reading the directions, but so far I haven’t come across the magic code (expertise glady accepted). Other things on the “to do” list include getting my blogrolls into the appropriate sidebar.  That will be the first priority after the logo, then I’ll start going back through more than four years worth of posts to re-establish categories and authors.

Speaking of authors, we’ve officially added The Son@Night (aka Ben) to the family blog. I think he was concerned that Sly the Family Rat would  get official author status before he did, but the editorial committee retroactively approved his application after the Diva carelessly gave him the password to the admin page of the old site.

Additional posting might be light here today as the team gets used to the new tool, but I hope everyone (including the Diva) will soon be back in force (which, come to think of it, is the only way Tiger Lilly does anything).

At any rate, it’s time to celebrate: everybody dance

(HT: TechnoChitlins – what a great house-warming gift!)

The week that was

by the Night Writer

It’s been a busy week and it’s affected my blogging mojo a bit. Fortunately other family members (including new ones) have taken up some of the slack. Earlier this week I wrestled down all but the smallest remaining details for our trip to Spain; specifically how we are going to get from Madrid to Barcelona and back. Amazingly, to go by high-speed rail costs twice as much as flying, though both take about the same amount of time when you factor in transit from the airport to the city centers. Renting a car is a bit cheaper than flying, but adding the cost of gas and the hassle of driving in strange cities it’s almost a push. Not to mention that going by car takes 6 to 8 hours as opposed to one and a half. So that was educational.

Last night and tonight, though, I’ve been working on my message for Inside Outfitters this weekend. Years ago the Mall Diva bought me a tee-shirt for Fathers’ Day that read, “This is what a cool dad looks like.” I’m going to wear that shirt and start my message roughlywhere the group left off in March as we talk about how men who grew up without a father have a harder time grasping the concept of a “Father God”, especially when it comes to receiving blessings and correction. Put another way, they have a harder time receiving love.

Usually when I speak to this group (which includes a number of guys in various stages of rehab) I teach on faith with an eye toward creating a sense or picture of hope. My objective this week will be to describe the characteristics of the Father, hopefully in a way that we can easily grasp it. Of course, there is no way to do this without demonstrating — or at least trying to describe — love. We were able to demonstrate it a little in March; now as I try to describe the relationship between faith, hope and love I come across (yet again) the words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, this time from one of his sermons (emphasis mine):

Faith and hope remain. Let us not think that we can have love without faith and without hope! Love without faith is like a river without a source. That would mean we could have love without Christ. Faith alone justifies us before God. Hope directs our attention to the end. Love perfects.

Yes, a very educational week, indeed.

Breaking news

by the Night Writer

The big news for us is that Faith and Ben finally got back from their honeymoon yesterday. Of course, there are other things going on in the headlines, but it’s hard not to see everything in terms of the kids being back. For example, I’m so happy I’m thinking about turning over some police cars and setting small trees on fire. Nothing shows the world how happy you are like wanton property damage and abuse of authority, I guess. To follow the lead of the Laker fans I suppose we should have rampaged through our neighborhood immediately after the wedding three weeks ago, but I was just too tired.

With a couple fewer mouths to feed the last couple of weeks we’ve had quite a few leftovers piling up in the refrigerator. This, of course, is just another way Americans are killing the planet with our wastrel ways through excess food accumulating in landfills and producing methane gas that’s 20 TIMES WORSE THAN CARBON DIOXIDE! I thought the problem for years has been Americans eat too much, leading to an obesity epidemic, now we’re criticized for not cleaning our plates? Oh, if only we didn’t live in a functioning economy (for the moment) with an effective infrastructure that efficiently and cost-effectively delivers food to us on a daily basis! Don’t worry, I’m sure that within a few years the government will take care of this oversight while also mandating how much and what kinds of food we can buy. I mean, once the goverment takes over health care and we still die too expensively it’s only logical they regulate consumption for our own good. Or maybe they’ll just let the natural results of their policies run their course: whatever flaws the Soviet Union had, they certainly were never known for letting their wasted food pile up into methane-producing heaps.

Anyway, now that Ben’s back there is sure to be fewer left-overs, and the cattle industry can breathe a sigh of relief after demand took a brief dip in June. To be honest, though, I don’t know how much our household is actually contributing to the food piles in the landfill. I don’t recall ever throwing out any pizza or half a bag of Fritos. Our policy is simply that we will never throw good food away. We merely wrap it and put it in the refrigerator until it becomes bad food, and then we throw it away.

As for the riots in Iran, I guess they’re just upset that Faith and Ben decided not to visit there as part of their world-wide, whirlwind honeymmoon tour.

Postcards from Spain Socialism

by the Night Writer

Along with planning for our trip I’m also trying to get up to speed on the news and politics in Spain before we go over there. The New York Times maintains an on-line news page on the country that is a handy reference. Allow me to excerpt three of the top stories for your consideration; I’ve bold-faced some words for emphasis, but this post is just snapshots, not analyses. I don’t have the time or the historical context to attempt an analyses at this point, but I do have enough intellect and curiosity to file these under, “Things that make you go, ‘Hmmmm.'”

The first article summarizes the March, 2008 electoral victory of the Socialist Party and PM José Luis Zapatero, which was first elected in 2004:

Spain’s governing Socialists triumphed in elections held in March 2008, giving Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero a fresh mandate to pursue his agenda of sweeping social, cultural and political liberalization.

Despite a bitterly fought campaign, the outcome seemed to endorse some of Mr. Zapatero’s boldest decisions, including the withdrawal of Spain’s troops from Iraq, the granting of more autonomy to Spain’s rebellious regions, simplified divorce and the legalization of homosexual marriage.

Among the bold decisions includes a head-on conflict with the Catholic Church on abortion.

Spain Steps Into Battle With Itself on Abortion
By VICTORIA BURNETT
MADRID — One day last month, Sister María Victoria Vindel gave her 15-year-old students a shockingly graphic lecture on reproductive health: PowerPoint slides of dismembered and disfigured fetuses interspersed with biblical quotations and pictures of a grinning José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, Spain’s prime minister.

“They laugh while many innocent children will die,” one of the captions read. The presentation ended with the message, “No to abortion, yes to life!”

Sister Vindel’s class at Purísima Concepción y Santa María Micaela, a parochial school in Logroño in northern Spain, is the most controversial episode yet in an increasingly contentious debate about Mr. Zapatero’s plans to ease Spain’s restrictive abortion law.

The class was described by the mother of a student, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because of possible repercussions for her child, and by Inmaculada Ortega, a Socialist lawmaker who spoke to several students and their parents.

The school, where Sister Vindel is headmistress, refused to comment on the slide show, which appeared to be downloaded from the Internet. The regional government, run by the opposition Popular Party, sent inspectors to the school, a Catholic institution that is financed partly by the state and partly by the parents. The government called the presentation “inappropriate” and said that it could constitute “moral aggression.”

Since he became prime minister in 2004, Mr. Zapatero has pushed an ambitious series of reforms, prying the social fabric of Spain from the centuries-old grip of the Roman Catholic Church. The Socialist government has legalized gay marriage, eased divorce law and expanded the rights of transsexuals.

I’m not up on my history of the Catholic Church’s prior relationship with the Socialists or Zapatero, but in Central and South America the Church has been known to support and endorse Socialist uprisings and candidates. I wonder if it has been happy with the resulting social conditions? Something to look into.

Leaving aside the spiritual, it appears that Zapatero may also have some issues with the temporal:

Spain’s Falling Prices Fuel Deflation Fears in Europe
By NELSON D. SCHWARTZ

VALENCIA, Spain — Faced with plunging orders, merchants across this recession-wracked country are starting to do something that many of them have never done: cut retail prices.

Prices dipped everywhere, from restaurants and fashion retailers to pharmacies and supermarkets in March. Hoping to increase sales, Fernando Maestre reduced prices by a third on the video intercoms his company makes for homes and apartment buildings. But that has not helped, so, along with many other Spanish employers, he is continuing to fire workers.

The nation’s jobless rate, already a painful 15.5 percent, could soon reach 20 percent, a troubling number for a major industrialized country. (Ya think? Later on the article also includes this stat: The jobless rate for those under 25 is at a Depression-like level of 31.8 percent, the highest among the 27 nations of the European Union. NW)

With the combination of rising unemployment and falling prices, economists fear Spain may be in the early grip of deflation, a hallmark of both the Great Depression and Japan’s lost decade of the 1990s, and a major concern since the financial crisis went global last year.

Deflation can result in a downward spiral that can be difficult to reverse. As unemployment rises sharply and consumers cut spending, companies cut prices. But if sales do not pick up, then revenue can decline further, forcing more cuts in workers or wages. Mr. Maestre is already contemplating additional job and wage cuts for his 250 employees.

Nowhere is this cycle more evident than in Spain. Last month, it became the first of the 16 nations that use the euro to record a negative inflation rate. The drop, though just 0.1 percent, had not happened since the government began tracking inflation in 1961, and Spanish officials have said prices could keep dropping through the summer.

Some of the decline came as volatile food prices sank; the cost of fish fell 6.2 percent, and sugar was down 5.7 percent. But even prices in normally stable sectors like drugs and medical treatments fell 0.7 percent in March, and there were slight declines in footwear, clothing and prices for household electronics.

“Alarm bells are going off,” said Lorenzo Amor, president of the Association of Autonomous Workers, which represents small businesses and self-employed people. “Economies can recover from deceleration, but it’s harder to recover from a deflationary situation. This could be a catastrophe for the Spanish economy.”

I’m sure we’ll try our best to stimulate that economy!

The Running of the Ninja Cows?

by the Night Writer

I’m spending my free (and some of my not-so-free) time trying to plot out our itinerary and lodgings in Spain after we finish the one-week Pueblo Ingles program I wrote about earlier. One of the things I’ve realized is that we’ll be there during the annual San Fermin Bull Run in Pamplona. Now I no longer have the legs for it (though I might make a Taco Run), and the Reverend Mother has never had the inclination, but Tiger Lilly on the other hand…

Photo from the About.com Gallery Pamplona Bull Run 2006

Hmmm. Well apparently the Doom Steak will have to wait because the rules say you have to be at least 18 years old in order to run, and she’s not old enough. Also, while I don’t see any rules expressly limiting the running to men, I also don’t see any photos of women among the runners. You know, it strikes me that this is just the kind of stupid event that would appeal to guys and that women simply know better. Nevertheless, if you think you’d like to try it, you should check out these handy, um, tips.

Turn around, wise guys

by the Night Writer

Ok, Mitch posted this earlier today but the firewall at work kept me from watching the video, which is just as well because it really wouldn’t do for me to be rolling around on the floor with tears streaming from my eyes right now. People might get the wrong idea.

I guarantee that as you watch this, every now and then you’ll fall apart.

Honestly, I thought some of the scenes in the video had to have been added somehow because they were so bizarre, but trust me, the only alterations have been to the vocals. (Ninjas? Yes, ninjas!). And the part in there about having to pee? That looks pretty darn authentic, too, based on what I’ve seen around my house.

If you lived through the 80s you can consider this video your own personal catharsis.

The rule of law and the law of the jungle

by the Night Writer

I was eating my Pop Tarts and reading a story in the Strib this morning when a thought popped into my head about the similarity between a violent, capital crime and violence against capital.

In the story a 17-year-old accused murderer has had charges against him dismissed because the witnesses are afraid to testify against him; one even left the state. Both the accused killer, Ramadan Abdi Shiekh Osman, and the victim, Ahmed Nur Ali, are members of the Somali community; Ali was an Augsburg student volunteering at the community center where the murder took place.

Now witness intimidation and the old self-preservation instinct are nothing new and certainly not unique to a particular ethnic group; it is the foundation of mob rule in any era or community. There’s nothing especially unique about this particular story, either: justice is denied, the rule of law is flouted and a likely killer walks the streets. All of this because witnesses have learned a painful lesson and don’t believe that law enforcement can protect them from reprisals and have therefore made themselves scarce or recanted their testimony. What may ultimately happen to the community as a result?

Now a neighborhood thug and the bankruptcies of Chrysler and GM — where the senior investors lost their legal standing for recovery by executive fiat — may look as if they are worlds apart, but I started to think about the “lessons” learned by the neighborhood witnesses, and if investors weren’t learning the same lessons. That is, you have to depend on your own instincts and resources if you can’t depend on the rule of law to look after you and preserve your community (or capital) when the prevailing gang gets to decide right and wrong and reward its friends and abuse its enemies. In the local community you clam up, lie low and even move away to avoid reprisals or becoming a target. In the investor community the equivalent is nearly the same: funds dry up, investors lie low and capital — being a lot more portable than an oppressed family — moves to a better neighborhood with less risk of confiscation.

And the community gets ugly, fast.

Throughout history, poverty is the normal condition of man. Advances which permit this norm to be exceeded — here and there, now and then — are the work of an extremely small minority, frequently despised, often condemned, and almost always opposed by all right-thinking people. Whenever this tiny minority is kept from creating, or (as sometimes happens) is driven out of a society, the people then slip back into abject poverty. This is known as “bad luck.”
— Robert A. Heinlein

The nights are shorter now…

by the Night Writer

The nights are shorter and when you’re The Night Writer it makes it harder to get your posts done. Actually, what I need are longer days and nights. I’ve outlined blog ideas on marriage (gay and otherwise) and on abortion and the Tiller slaying but haven’t had a chance to complete these to my satisfaction as I handle a busy phase at work, try to finalize travel arrangements for our upcoming trip to Spain, and tonight I’m going down to the Red Wing Correctional Facility for a cottage visit that’s part of the preparation for this Sunday’s service down there.

I’m also trying to figure out how to move this blog to a new host with better design and a fabulous new logo done by my wife. I had it all just about figured out once but then had to set it aside and now I’ve got to re-educate myself so I can get my new host and WordPress working together, along with my all my archives. My objective is to make the switch-over before we leave for Spain so that my travel posts will show up on the cool new page.

So if things are spotty here the next few days it is not a sign that I’m losing interest; merely that things are a bit too interesting.

Looking back

by the Night Writer

Here’s my favorite photo (so far) from the wedding, posted by KingDavid over at The Far Wright. I kind of like the sentiment as well.

There were a lot of great memories to savor as we watched Faith and Ben dance their first dance. I must say, however, that the wedding weekend created many more memories to treasure thanks to the way friends and family responded to the event. Instead of being overwhelmed by all the details that go into planning a wedding (and hosting it in your own yard) we were overwhelmed by the number of enthusiastic volunteers who showed up as early as last September to help clear out the back gardens to prepare them for this spring; the people who guided the food plans and organized the cooking and serving; the seemingly countless young servers rushing food and drink out to the tables; the drivers who shuttled people from the parking area to the wedding site; those who helped set up and tear-down the chairs and tables (I think the yard was completely cleared of tables chairs and trash within 30 minutes of the bride and groom’s getaway); the people who put on the bachelor party and bridal showers; the women and girls who got up early several mornings to rehearse the “Thriller” dance; the videographers; the limo; the DJ; not to mention the personal and professional devotion of the photographers…as we watched the bride and groom dance it was deeply moving to realize just how much they had to have touched the lives of others to stimulate such an outpouring of affectionate effort (even among people who we couldn’t fit into the invitation list and who still called and offered to pick up folks from the airport or help cook or do anything they could).

Some other memories:

We had everything set up by Friday afternoon for the rehearsal and left it up overnight. We called our friends at the SSP Police Dept. and asked for a couple of extra patrols overnight to keep an eye on things. To help with security I turned on all the front outside lights. About 12:30 I was having trouble getting to sleep so I got up to take an antihistamine to make me drowsy and in walking past our bedroom window I noticed that the lights were off…and there was some kind of activity going on at the end of the driveway. I pulled on a shirt and went downstairs to investigate. I slipped out of the door by the garage and saw heads bobbing behind my daughter’s car that we were using to block one of the driveway entrances. Almost immediately three people went dashing up the street while a fourth person in black ninja-like garb came running toward me. That could have been scary except the “ninja” was whispering “It’s me! It’s me!” (or perhaps it was “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”) in Tiger Lilly’s voice. It seems TL had snuck out to decorate her sister’s car along with the other bridesmaids. Unfortunately for her, the bride had walked through the kitchen after I’d gone to bed and noticed that the door was unlocked and the outside lights were on. She couldn’t believe I’d been so careless (perimeter security is my responsibility at night), so she turned off the lights and LOCKED the door, leaving Tiger Lilly on the wrong side of it. If I hadn’t have come out to investigate TL would have had to spend the night on the couch of one of the b-maids. No doubt my tingling Dad-senses were what were keeping me awake, sensing that one of the chicks was out of the nest.

When I got back upstairs the Diva was on her bed, going over yet another to-do list. Not wanting to give anything away I told her that I ran some vandals off.

“Are my b-maids decorating my car?” she asked.

“Hey, would I stand around outside in the middle of the night in my underwear talking to young women?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Another Friday night memory is the Groom’s Dinner put on by the groom’s parents for the wedding party, closing The Black Sheep for a private function and hiring a great band, Deluge, to play while we enjoyed the fresh-from-the farmer’s market cuisine put on by Peter, The Black Sheep’s proprietor. We had Shepherd’s Pie baked in a fluffy filo dough, a fantastic salad and our choice of chocolate lava cake or chocolate cheesecake (some chose both, I think) plus all the exotic coffee, tea and juice drinks that are the Sheep’s specialty. It was a truly congenial and entertaining evening and atmosphere and we learned where Ben gets his poetry skills(?). Peter and his staff were totally into the evening and provided great service and the band, who Faith and Casii had met on the open-mike coffee-house circuit, was perfect!

Memories from the “A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words” category:

The Groom and Groomsmen warm up before the ceremony with the traditional bocce ball game (I’m sure it’s traditional somewhere):

There was no stress in the kitchen (well, almost no stress):

The Best Man was a very good one, indeed, with his heartfelt toast to the new couple:

I’m not sure how Tiger Lilly ended up with the groom’s top-hat, but rest assured that she didn’t decapitate him.