Let It Be

"When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me speaking words of wisdom"

Another thing I am not -- is a "clothes" person. Other than to keep warm, dry, and presentable to others, I do not spend much time contemplating clothes. I have had a couple of favorite articles in my lifetime, though (usually a tee-shirt with a smart or smartass expression). Last Christmas I received a hooded sweatshirt with the title "Let It Be" and the classic photo arrangment of the four Beatles from the album of the same name. I love it because it was given to me by a loved one, and that I grew up as a big Beatles fan (as were so many who went through their formative years during the 60's). As a music lover and a musician, I have often been in discussions concerning the Beatles popularity and cultural importance. It started way back when debates would be over who was the greatest band - the Beatles or the Dave Clarke 5 (yes, you youngsters who don't know any better - The Dave Clarke 5 ---- ya had to be there!). I'm happy to say that I was on the winning side of that arguement. My children have often gotten me to dispense wisdom on the historical importance of the Beatles and why they are indeed the most importance influence on popular rock music ever. But my approach was always simply matter-of-fact, of course it's true, unquestioned belief. But recently I noticed something that has gotten me to think deeper. Inveritably, when I wear my Let It Be shirt - people comment about it. Total strangers - young and old - randomly comment about it. Little kids recognize it and are proud that they know who those four faces are - and make a point to let me or their parent know it. Older people react as if they have been instantly brought back to a simpler, happier time - and make it a point to make some expression as if to tell me as much. I was a bit confused as to why my wearing this shirt seemed so important to so many people. I loved the Beatles, but it's not like they changed my life or anything. But maybe -- maybe they did?

I was nine when I first heard them. I was certainly too young to comprehend the mania surrounding them. But I remember that my dad and Pete Grover and Sonny Hefler and Billy Howland would sit in the living room on friday nights playing guitars and singing (we called it our hootanannie) - and I remember the unbridled excitement when Pete brought that first "Meet The Beatles" record with the other classic photo (black & white, semi-sihloetted, 3-in-a-row and 1 set lower than the others, mop-topped). I remember the four local wanna-be guitarists listening to and copying all of the songs - over and over. I remember staying up to watch the Ed Sullivan Show, The Beatles, the screaming audience. I remember learning to play guitar (along with my sister Laurie and cousin Tommy), buying or borrowing any Beatles record we could get our hands on and figuring out chords and harmony lines. I remember discussions of who liked which Beatle best and why (me / Paul -- it wasn't just their music, but they themselves that people clung to), I remember heated arguments with Tommy about whether Paul was really dead or if it was just a publicity brainstorm by them or their management and listening to records played backwards. I remember the disbelief and disappointment over them breaking up way to soon.

So maybe they didn't change or save my life - but they certainly are an integral and important part of the fabric of my life and were therefore part of the creation of my personality and life's direction - and it must be the same for so many others. Now like so many of us and our own lives, two out of four are dead - one taken too young and one of health and age issues. One struggles financially and professionally but still plugs quietly along. The fourth appears to be successful and relevent, still doing OK for himself despite some recent relationship issues. They seemed to represent our lives back in the 60's and evidently still do. They were excitement and change and hope of youth, and today we wistfully remember those good old days. And evidently when people see my shirt it becomes an instant time machine for baby boomers and it is a trigger for youngsters who are proud to show their knowledge some of the most significance men of recent history. They were indeed more famous than Jesus at their peak (or at least people treated them as such). That claim never upset me because they themselves were humble enough to recognize that people were misled to treat them that way, and they had tried from day one to be simple musicians who just loved making music. I sometimes wonder if to this day too many people still revere them more so than Jesus. We would be better off if Jesus was the more noticeable fabric of our lives instead of the Beatles. I admit I sometimes feel a sense of true peace when I am at church, but I ALWAYS can achieve that level of bliss by putting on my headphones and Rubber Soul. Sometimes I feel guilty about that, but maybe I shouldn't. My guess is that God was a big fan of the Fab Four. He certainly bestowed unto them abundant blessings in their hey day -- and through them, we too were blessed. Many of us continue to be reminded of those blessings .

"Let It Be"

Parents, Teens, and Faith

I stood along the back wall of the chapel with all of the Confirmation teachers while Father M was wrapping up a Confirmation Class. Mrs. DRE was trying to get the teens to sing along with a YOW type song – complete with hand motions. The teens were mostly non-committal and chit-chatting amongst themselves – either ridiculing the adult’s efforts or of topics completely unrelated. The teachers started to quietly comment (complain) amongst themselves about the teens lack of interest in the immediate happenings, their lack of enthusiasm for church in general, and (biggest fear of all) possible rejection of the importance of faith (or at least their reluctance to actively participate and openly express their faith). As the teachers conversation progressed, individuals started to relate how they themselves didn’t go to church as kids – or hated being dragged to CCD – or didn’t get involved until they got married or had their own children. Now these are sincerely and happily and actively Christian people, of whom a surprising number (myself included) either didn’t become Catholic, or get confirmed or get “it” until much beyond their teen years (the predominant time frame was late 20’s to 30’s). They were basically upset – feeling that although they themselves didn’t grasp the value when they were teens, these teens should now be able to learn from our mistakes and accept the truth now and bravely show it.

Myself, I was raised (vaguely) as a Congregationalist, switched to Catholicism after our children were born (took the Readers Digest edited and condensed version of Confirmation with the BSC campus priest) and didn’t do a whole lot with it until my oldest was in high-school. I guess I always had a basic but uneducated belief in God + Jesus, but didn’t get too involved until my wife (who had been a Catholic School girl and who’s father had nearly become a Priest) decided we should do something to create a youth group sort of thing (similar to the old CYO model she grew up in) that our kids could get involved with at Our Lady of Star Market. Mrs. DRE got me to a “Leaders Retreat Weekend” which would prep me to later chaperone a YOW (Youth Outreach Weekend) evangelization retreat in New Hampshire with a dozen kids from our church. I knew nobody but met lots of Youth Ministers, listened to their stories, felt the spirit, had an experience – which I then got to expand on with the kids on the YOW Retreat. And there was music – new music – God music, but unlike any that I had ever encountered at any church service I had ever been to. And what the performance of the music lacked in technical competence, it made up for in enthusiasm and raw power.

So there we were – a group of adults, active and faith-filled all, confessed late bloomers nearly unanimously, believers and followers of the greatest and most influential man in history who himself at the wedding in Cana – even though he had quietly started gathering disciples around him - had to be pushed by his mother into making an open public display (as Jesus at 30ish years old was still claiming that he shouldn’t be made to do this yet!)

It is therefore easy to see that my conclusion is this - while it is good and right to try to teach the importance of faith and belief (building a foundation in our children), we don’t need to be overly concerned if they don’t “get it” or openly display it until what time they are ready to. Children in amazing numbers follow in their parent’s footsteps – no matter how hard they try to reject us during their teen years. As long as we blaze a clear path and keep it well lit and maintained our children are likely to follow it sooner or later.

The Dog Days of Winter

I was always a cat person – not that I didn’t like dogs (although it always appeared that they didn’t care for me) but growing up we never had dogs. Grampa Roddy had a beagle named Dinah that howled a lot when we walked through the yard, and step-brother Billy had a Weimaraner named Dusty for a while. Billy shipped out to sea and Dusty stayed, until his constant jumping the fence became too much trouble. Meanwhile I would get bit doing my paper route and even Golden Retrievers would growl at me while hiking. Then I married HerMajesty – the ultimate dog lover (if you’ve seen her with a baby, put a dog in it’s place – same effect).

Now I must admit we have owned some fun and friendly dogs over the years. Currently we have Lily the shy Bearded Colley, BamBam the uber-friendly Pomer-chon (1/2 Pomeranian, 1/2 Bichon), and Champ the gay Beagle (male dog who ADORES men).

Every December there is a big dog show at the Bayside Expo and as part of HerMajesty’s Christmas I bring her in for a day. She always contemplates which breed she should get into when she someday decides to show, or which breeds would be good for the various kids when they get to have their own purebred someday. Of course, she would always try to get me to commit to a breed(s) that might interest me. As I have indicated, I’m not specifically a dog person – but I admire a lot of the super-sized dogs. Using the disclaimer that “if we had the money and lots of land” (fenced in – fencing is expensive so the less likelihood of it ever becoming a reality) I could see myself with a Newfoundland, a Bernese Mountain Dog, a Great Pyrenees, or my true favorite – an Irish Wolf Hound (seriously – I’m 6’3” and a bit shaggy myself and like to be different and stand out, and not so seriously – they have a short life span).

So again we spend the day with the dogs, with HM reveling in the sights, sounds and smells of a thousand dogs in a large but enclosed space, with me tagging along carrying her chair and soaking up the overflow of love (cause some of that abundance of love is likely to spill onto me if I’m not stupid and blow it).

This year had an extra element to it. Our Jamie joined a 4-H dog agility club and is training BamBam, and HM has a college professor who shows nationally in agility. So we spent a good period of time and attention to this sport. Far different than showing for conformation where the handler simply puts the dog on display for a judge who compares it to the description of what the perfect example of the breed should look like, this is a SPORT (NOW you’re talking my language)! This is a personal challenge! This is a very skilled trainer teaching a very smart dog to follow some very difficult maneuvers through a very complicated obstacle course at a very fast speed! The dog can get too excited and make a mistake which loses time or points, or the handler can make a mistake which confuses the dog into going the wrong way. But winning or losing is totally based on ability, intelligence, strategy and being on the mark on a given day – and performing better & faster than the competition on that day. Not much different than a relay race, a hockey game, or doubles tennis (except that the dog is ecstatic at the finish line win or lose). THIS I could get interested in. And this can be done with any dog – granted some are better suited than others (I'm thinking my future WolfHound would not be a natural - envision a small horse going through the weave-poles! - I would have to downsize to something zippier), but there are different qualifying times for each breed. So you can have your dog for loving companionship, train him to be reliably obedient, and then get the challenge of true team competition – and if you are an adrenalin junkie, get a Border Colley and it becomes an Extreme Sport!

OK – so at my age and with our lifestyle and finances (or lack of) I am pretty safe. It’s highly unlikely that we shall go beyond Jamie and BamBam and 4-H exhibitions – but now I can honestly say to my wife “if we had the money and lots of land” and not have it sound like a blatant easy excuse out. The tightwad builder in me says “give me some plywood and PVC piping and I could make those obstacles cheaper than buying them”. So if you see me in the side yard with some strange contraptions everywhere, give my cats a pat – they may be feeling neglected.