New Moon Fever

If you haven't heard, the second Twilight movie -- New Moon -- premiers on Friday. And I have been assigned my roles which mainly involve driver and financier. Last year I was actually invited to attend the premier of the first Twilight but ended up getting stuck in the Detroit airport. The main bummer was that I really wanted to hear all the tween screams in live time. Don't worry, when I saw it later with Amanda, she recounted to me each scene where the audience squealed with delight during the premier, the first one being when the brooding Edward enters the school cafeteria. Admittedly, it's incredible even in slow motion.

Don't worry, we've had the tickets for a long time. We do know enough to get advance tickets for this one.

I could go into the crazy marketing of it all, but won't except to say that I am totally jealous of Stephanie Meyers and her book series which has my daughter and a gazillion others mesmerized. Why? That is for all of us to figure out. Or not. It's the romance, stupid.

Thanks for coming to the Charmer blog and I hope you all have a fanciful day.

With love, T

P.S. Amanda would like to clarify that she is mostly over the Twilight hoopla. Just a normal Edward fan these days as opposed to a totally obsessed one.

Angst, Passion, and my Son

Hello everyone. Thanks for your kind words of sympathy on the occasion of my cancelled flight. Me and my suitcase are both home. Already I have some lovely photos of Aidan baking Bob's birthday cake which I'll post later.

For now, I just have to remind you all not to take a nine-year-old boy with you when you finally do go see the movie Twilight. Against my better judgement, Aidan came with me and Amanda. Honestly, I think he was intrigued by the vampire fight scenes he had heard about. The reality went something like this.

Angst. Passion. Forbidden love. The bad vampires are about to eat the man in the boat. . .

Aidan: Mom, I need some popcorn. Can we go get some popcorn? Please? I want popcorn. (We exit the theater, get popcorn, return.)

Angst. Passion. Forbidden love. Edward and Bella leaping the spectacular tree tops of the Olympic Penninsula. . .

Aidan: Mom, I have to go to the bathroom. (This I don't question; immediately we exit the theater, go, return.)

Angst. Passion. Forbidden love. Edward must save Bella's life from the evil James. . .

Aidan: Mom, my tooth just fell out. (What?! We exit the theater. Sure enough, a tooth in hand and blood all over the face. Go back to bathroom to clean up. Return.)

Angst. Passion. Forbidden love. Bella and Edward will never be apart again. . .

During times when we were actually sitting in our seats, if Aidan wasn't bored then he was utterly scared and sat with his eyes closed and his ears plugged, balancing the bag-o-popcorn on his lap. We watch a large portion of the movie from the back of the theater. Me on the inside of the door. He on the outside of the door.

Evidently coming up at school is a field trip to a live performance of "The Nutcracker." Aidan says to me: Mom, you gotta get me out of this. Please. Give Aidan a remote control and a recliner and he's good to go.

Anyway, I still enjoyed the movie.

Cheers, T

photo: my little romantic riding in the back seat

Livin On a Prayer

I'm trying out this new blogable music feature that I learned from Jeni from Campus, who I really should write to because I lifted it off her blog without even telling her. It goes with my new category "Charmer Insomniatic." You know, what you do when you can't sleep. One thing you can do is watch the biography of Jon Bon Jovi and be very thankful that you were awake during that program.

Listen free by clicking the top of the left bar.

Jeni blogs about Livin on a Prayer much better than me which makes sense because she's the true music buff who politely thinks I am quaint because I still believe that the Dave Matthews Band is the best band ever. Anywho, it was very nice to see two sisters from Luther Seminary on the official campus blog writing roster -- Jeni and Margaret. I notice that Margaret has blogged on my beautiful ex-sanctuary, the Luther Seminary Community Garden.

Next category: how to attempt to be a productive mother.

Cheers! T

Quiz: Is this a doctor or a jazz singer.

One day I took my lunch hour and never returned.

It was when I worked for Dr. Worm in Manhattan about 14 years ago and it remains to be about the most spontaneous thing I've ever done. I worked for her for one and a half days. One and a half days too long. While everyone else in the office was nice, I didn't like her. Even when she told me how important she was and how the governor phoned her all the time. It was the time when managed health care was just taking off. I think the employment head hunter sent me to her because I was from the Midwest and gullible, and you know, that so-called Midwest work ethic.

It was when I first moved to NYC and was looking for a job. Seems like there wasn't a lot of employers in Manhattan looking for someone with experience in youth and camping ministry.

Meanwhile I worked another temp job too, at General Refridgermetics. They sold refrigerators. And my job was to answer phones and file all day; working among all these poor salesmen (and I do mean 'men') whose jobs were to simply sit at a bare desk and make cold calls to sell refrigerators. Just seemed so bleak. It was not exactly on a subway line so to get there I drove from the bottom of Brooklyn to the top of Queens, with very careful directions from Bob. Yes friends, I could never make that drive now. It was the last stop before crossing the bridge to Rykers Island, literally. Anyway, they were nice there too and even wanted to hire me. But I simply didn't see my destiny as a receptionist in a refrigerator warehouse. Just couldn't do it. I mean, it was an honorable job and all, but I was going crazy by the end of the day. You try saying it over and over and over, "Hello, General Refridgermetics, can I help you?"

And I couldn't work for Dr. Worm either. And you know what else. . .she was a dentist. A little detail that she didn't easily mention. Nothing against dentists, I mean I need to see one actually. But whenever someone insists on being called "doctor" and then you find out they are a dentist, let's face it, it just says something.

So on my second day with Dr. Worm I left for lunch and never returned. I suppose that was a Midwestern passive aggressive tactic. I did not say, "Dr. Worm, you are an inscrutable fruitcake and I quit." I did not tell the headhunter that she had better not send me to anymore jobs like that. But my way to the highway was so much easier.

And when I got home, feeling all crummy and weird because people from the Midwest don't just quit jobs like that; well, there was a message from the human resource director at Lutheran World Relief. And could I please call her about a position that had just opened. No kidding, that was the note on the kitchen table the day I left Dr. Worm.

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So anyway, here' s the treasure for tonight. Jeni from Campus would be so proud. It's the public radio music website. It's free and it's fabulous. I already downloaded a play list of jazz tunes about autumn in New York, Nickel Creek in Concert, and songs by a Filapina crooner named Charmaine Clamor. It's like our lonely old house is now a jazz club. And a bluegrass festival.

Goodnight.

With love, T

P.S. Quiz Answer: The picture is a jazz singer; the aforementioned Charmaine Clamor. Listen to her and absolutely melt. This is definitely NOT Dr. Worm.

Is this Heaven? No. It's Iowa.

You must see this. "Field of Dreams." It's the movie you watch when you move to Iowa. But even if you did not move to Iowa, you must see this movie. Even if you already saw the movie. See it again. It's all about the merging of time and space, past, present, future; following your dreams; and the best theme of all -- reconciliation.

When the doctor stepped into the other world to save the little girl and he gave up his baseball career. . .OMG, I got all choked up. He followed his calling.

Next time we have a day off, we'll go there. To the field of dreams.

With love, T

P.S. So we put in "RENT." OK, too adult for Amanda. Too young adult for me. We didn't finish it. But the music is good.

Seasons of Love

We came home from church all full of choir and orchestral music, so we decided to download the fabulous song from the musical RENT, Seasons of Love. Not only does it make for happy dishwashing and lunchmaking, but I thought it was a terrific way to celebrate our past year as well as All Saints Sunday, when we feel all connected with those who have gone on to glory before us. How do you measure life? (See below for the lyrics.)



RENT Seasons Of Love Lyrics

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Moments so dear
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure - Measure A Year?
In Daylights - In Sunsets
In Midnights - In Cups Of Coffee
In Inches - In Miles
In Laughter - In Strife

In - Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure
A Year In The Life?

How About Love?
How About Love?
How About Love?
Measure In Love

Seasons of Love.
Seasons of Love.

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Journeys To Plan

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Six Hundred Minutes

How Do You Measure The Life
Of A Woman Or A Man

In Truth That She Learned
Or In Times That He Cried
In Bridges He Burned
Or The Way That She Died

It's Time Now - To Sing Out
Though The Story Never Ends
Let's Celebrate
Remember A Year In The Life Of Friends

Remember the Love
Remember the Love
Remember the Love
Measure In Love

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Take care, everyone!
With love, T

What Wondrous Love is This

Hello everyone and thanks so much for coming over to the Charmer blog. I wanted to take a few minutes to comment on the organ recital that we went to last Sunday. "Our" organist and "our" new church. (Even though Aidan was heard saying that he didn't really want to come back to church again that day; and he was welcomed to the wonderful world of PK's.)

Have you ever been to an organ recital? They projected her image on a big screen in the front of the church. We could see her hands flying all over the multiple keyboards and push/pull controls of the organ.

But it was the feet that really stunned all of us, even Amanda. Our organist's feet moved like Fred Astaire's. She was like a tap dancer, perfectly timed and agile, toes and heels dancing up and down the pedals. She even wore shoes that resembled beautiful yet sturdy tap shoes. That means all her hands and feet were moving in syncopation. I couldn't even count how many rhthyms she had going. She was like a painter producing a masterpiece in fast speed; the orchestral vision coming out huge pipes and filling up a whole sanctuary. You can't imagine that anyone could be hard wired or trained to do that.

"Some people are more than human," said the guy who sat in front of me. "How does she do that?"

I don't know. I had no idea that organists moved their feet in that way.

Anyway, so Bob let me pick out a hymn for his ordination service this Saturday in NYC. By the way, you are all invited. This is such a big deal, and yet we have barely had a chance to plan or send out proper invitations. Once again we rely on the grace of friends and family to pull it all off. I choose "What Wondrous Love is This." I think it's an American slave song. Here's an Irish version found on youtube, with some nice video of Greystones, Ireland.



With love, T

If I Were a Carpenter

Hello everyone and thanks for coming over to the charmer blog. Oh my goodness, it's soooo good to be online again. It's really great to hear from y'all. Thanks so much.

I also finally found the NPR news station; had been suffering through the NPR classical for two weeks, which is OK, but I'm a news junky. Classical goes about a half hour for me, except for when I'm in long-term stress especially while driving. This morning while happily driving a friend to the airport I was assured that the news station really does exist. Sure enough, it was hiding in the 100's frequency instead of the 90's. Thank you, Iowa. Phew.

Anyway, tonight, during our game of Star Wars Monopoly -- we don't unpack boxes here, we play board games -- I heard "If I were a Carpenter." Even the news station doesn't do news on a Saturday night. What a great song; have always loved that one. And of course youtube.com didn't let me down, with versions from people ranging from Alison Kraus to Dolly Parton to Bobby Darin. They're all good. But for here and now, I opted for the good 'ol June Carter and Johnny Cash version.

Sarah Ford, if you're out there, just want to let you know that the Connect Four you sent us last winter is alive and well. Why unpack bathroom necessities when all I really need is to lose again and again in Connect Four?

Enjoy the song!

With love, T