Rodent Regatta

I’ve got friends of faith who are in a tizzy over The Da Vinci Code – book and movie. They’ve been going to seminars to learn how to refute those who object to what my friends have been believing since they were nine years old.

Somehow, I don’t think revisionist history should be that threatening. After all this isn’t the first time that the Christian faith has been challenged. If you can get to it—subscription may be needed—read what Joseph Loconte has written in Debunking the Debunkers. Loconte quotes C.S. Lewis as follows:

“I do not wish to reduce the skeptical element in your minds,” Lewis explained. “I am only suggesting that it need not be reserved exclusively for the New Testament and the Creeds. Try doubting something else.”

Bad bosses take credit for the work of others. Bad friends steal ideas and treat them as their own.

From a distance I’ve learned of two brides—once good friends—who were both planning October weddings. Bride A’s wedding was to be two weeks prior to Bride B’s. Bride A “put the word out” that certain colors were her selections for dresses. Bride B, though having somewhat similar tastes, made a decision about another color.

In less than twenty four hours Bride A announced that she had selected the same color as Bride B. Bride B was heartbroken.

People will forever disappoint us. Some people spend their time finding ways to needle others. It’s one of the tragedies of living in a society so obsessed with form over substance.

Look at these guys. They are incredible. [Thanks to You Can’t Get There From Here]

I’ve traveled nearly all of my working life. It’s enjoyable, but tiring. The last ten years of air travel have had more uncertainty than the ten before. Deregulation brought cheaper tickets, but it introduced rapid change. There was a time when a ticket in hand was as good as cash in hand. Any airline; any time; day or night, if they were going your way you could go with them. Not any more.

That’s not my point.

I mentioned that daughter #3 caught a flight at dark thirty yesterday morning. By midday she was on the ground and oriented. She had read about the Big Apple almost continuously since learning of the outcome of her audition back in February. So, what did she do?

Rather than move into her apartment and ”collapse.” She went to class. ”Class” in the dance world means something a little different from what I once thought. In a lot of classes, there isn’t a huge amount of new instruction. Rather, it’s a supervised time for working out. If you’ve never been around a professional dancer, they are athletes. They go to class (multiple times) every day.

At a class a teacher or an artisitic director puts the class through a series of required movements. There’s time at the bar. There’s time dancing specific movements to music. It’s not a rehearsal for a performance. It’s a time to perfect, condition and improve.

Drive me to the airport at 3:30a.m. Change planes once. Arrive in a different time zone seven hours later and I’m going to take it easy. Have a nice dinner. See a show. Get to bed early. Youth with a dream is different. She found a way to catch a subway and change trains twice. She found a class. She danced on Broadway! Did I mention I’m proud?