Spoiled

I read this article today on portafilter.net  and thought I would pass it along as a look at the trade I’m so fascinated with.

Keeping in mind how spoiled we are

   

   

         

      In
the last few days I’ve had a couple of conversations and/or experiences
that have reminded me of just how spoiled we really are.

First -
this morning I walked into the Stumptown  roastery just in time to get
handed a cup of freshly brewed Panama Esmerelda . Such an incredible or
perhaps astonishing coffee – like a Belgian Gran Cru ale. Seriously. So
I sat there, enjoying the complexities, smiling to myself and Jim and I
got into a conversation which lead to the following statement – "you
know, it’s sad to think that most people don’t even know what coffee
really tastes like." Thinking about this I came to realize just how
true it is. Jim then told me a story of how, when driving to Idaho, he
stopped at a gas station to use the hot water tap on their coffee
brewer to make a press pot of the Panama Don Pachi. He offered to give
the woman behind the counter some of the coffee in exchange, but she
told him she didn’t really like coffee. None the less, he left her a
small cup of it. As he was starting to drive away she came running out
of the station, waving her arms in the air. She wanted to know
everything about the coffee… "what he put in it" why it tasted the
way it did how he made it.

Second – this ties into a comment
someone made to me the other day. I was tasting some incredible CoE
coffees that Andrew Barnett sent to me. I shared a lovely Nicaragua CoE
with a friend. He took a sip and the weirdest look came over his face.
Another sip… He turned to me and said, "this doesn’t even taste like
coffee!"

Third – I had a hysterical conversation with someone
the other day on the phone. They were trying to get me to "sell them"
on why they should drive in from the suburbs to Stumptown to get their
coffee. They’d never had Stumptown coffee and simply couldn’t see how
it could be worth it.

The reality is that most people probably don’t actually know what coffee really tastes like. And that is very sad.

This
also presents us with a serious challenge. How do you describe the
colour green to someone who sees in black and white? How do you
describe the emotional content of that colour? How do you express the
value of experiencing it?

Every one of us should savour our next
cup of coffee – because we are the few, the lucky ones. We actually get
to know what coffee really is.

I Don’t Feel Good

I’ve spent the last few days laying on my back or sitting in a chair with either a hot or cold pack placed strategically on my lower back.  I hesitate to call it "old age" but I’m certainly not going to rule it out completely.  Last week was when all of my adventures began…

Monday: Labor Day

I started off the morning enjoying an early breakfast with friends at a restaurant on Elliston.  We had to gear up for our big day at the Red Cross.  We were all going to give blood and then some of us were of to kayak the Harpeth River west of town.  After figuring out that I didn’t have a dura mater transplant from my brain surgery and that I was therefore eligible to give my B+ blood to those in need I proceeded to another room with an elderly woman who was going to run through the questions I had answered earlier.  Forty minutes later I was finally approved.  I was being patient with her as she scanned the computer to see if the areas of Thailand and Kenya that I have traveled to were red flags for malaria.  I could have found what she needed in about 3 minutes, but I was happy to see a woman of her age learning how to use the computer.  Finally approved, she told that I would be behind about 25 people.  At that point I had been at the Red Cross for two hours and no one had stuck anything in me yet.  I told her that it was past time for me to be getting on the river with my friends and that I’d just come back later.  She gestured towards an open bed, gave me a look that said, "it’s okay I’ve worked here for 20 years", and told me to just hop on that bed right there.  Confident in my ability to give blood without ever having given blood before, I hopped right up on the bed and the lady stuck me without even a flinch.  I’ve been stuck many times before.  I laid there, pumping my fist every few seconds.  My friend Blaine came by to see how I was, and I was fine…I was fine.

"Blaine, I don’t feel good."
"You don’t feel good?  You need to tell her."

"Hey, I don’t feel good.  Um, I don’t feel good!"

<fade to black>

"Adria!  Adria, I need you to wake up for me!  Wake up for me."
To Blaine: "Go get her a Coke!"

"Do you want Coke or Sprite or orange juice?"
"Coke!" (said in tone that could be conceived as me "freaking out")

By this time Jody and Johni were there looking over me and talking in what I perceived to be muffled voices.  Blaine returned and fed me the Coke through a straw.

Jody to another Red Cross worker:  "Should she take the needle out?

"Oh no, honey, this happens all the time."

I finally got to where I could sit up…for all of two minutes, then had to lay back down to keep from going out again.  That was first time I have ever passed out. 

After finishing the Coke and having an oatmeal cream pie I was off to the river for day of kayaking.  For the record, kayaking is not something I make habit of doing.  So I was sore in all the right places the next morning.

Thursday: Opening Night

Thursday evening began the official Metro Parks softball season, and
the Whiffleball Superstars came out in full effect.  It’s been a couple
of years since I played softball, but it was still such a natural thing
to do.  I felt at home instantly, and realized that I have been playing
softball for almost 2 decades.  We posted an 11-3 victory.

Monday: Game Two

Monday night brought game number two and we showed up again in full
force, posting an 8-1 victory.  But, something happened in the top of
fourth inning that I will not soon forget.

The ball was hit between third (me) and short stop (Robb).  I ran
towards it and then slowed to a stop, calling out to Robb that it was
his.  It was, and we made the out.  But when I stopped running, my back
stopped working.  I proceeded, in all my wisdom to bat after that,
twice (idiot).  After the game some of us went out to dinner.  I knew I
was hurt pretty bad, but I didn’t "do" anything.  I just stopped
running and went kayaking and began playing softball again and
continued lifting cases of water and milk jugs at work.  Apparently my
back had had quite enough of what I can only image it perceived as
ridiculousness. As we dined I felt my back tighten and tighten and
tighten and tighten.   I haven’t had pain that has made me cry in a
long time, but as I walked into my  bedroom that night and tried to
move as normal, my back buckled and I slid to the floor, possibly
wondering if I’d ever walk again.  There were tears.  And I crawled on
the floor and rolled into my bed.  I woke up not being able to move. 

I’ve spent two days in my apartment, with some very helpful
visitors. I missed two days of work and tomorrow will be number three.
Which puts me out about $230 including tips.  I go to the doctor
tomorrow and then will be driving home to Indiana for the weekend at
$3.00 a gallon.  I don’t feel good, but I feel better.

 

A Day in the Life

"Life happens".  It’s true.  It happened to me last night as I pulled onto the road that leads to my apartment complex at about 10:15 pm.  I believe I was rocking out to Kelly Clarkson (laughing is permissible and expected here) when all the sudden I noticed that my car was driving funny.  I slowed down, turned Kelly down and noticed that it was the back right side of my car that was riding rough and making not good noises.  I decided to drive the rest of the way to my building, which was less than a quarter mile away.  I knew what happened.  I had a flat tire.  I need new tires anyway, but I didn’t know that expense would rear its head before I intended it to.  So, there I was, flat tire and 4 and half hours away from my mechanic.  He being my father.  So I called him up to see what to do.  During some instructions my mom had to chime in with her light and timely sarcasm:

Dad:  Your mom wants to know if you’ve ever changed a flat tire before.
Me:  No.
Dad:  hehehehahahahee
Me:  What?
Dad:  Your mom says, "Well, you’re getting ready too!"

I didn’t dig any deeper to see if she’s ever changed a tire.  I know she could if she had too. 

I woke up at 7:00 this morning, hoping to change my tire and put my spare donut on, call a tire place, get the right tire and get them all changed before a meeting at 11:00.  I washed my face, drank some Odwalla Superfood, strapped on my iPod and prepared to embrace the adventure before me.  I started with the tire at 7:30 and finished by 8:00, pretty good time for my first try.  After talking to my dad again, I decided on a specific tire and went to the phone book (aka the world wide web) to find a place that had the tires and could do the service.  I finally got a hold of Bob at A Plus Tire.  Then I called Jewly to cancel our meeting.  11:00 was now the time when I was to get my tires changed. 

I turned my car into what looked like an old run down gas station, but it was the right place.  Bob’s A Plus Tire is definitely the little man.  I didn’t have any reservations though, because he was upfront with me about the price when I talked to him on the phone, trustworthy and honest, and I’m learning that all "good" Nashvillians support local businesses.  It was obvious that Bob is good to all his customers.  I was out of there by 12:30 and off to work, but not before stopping at the Dollar General to get socks that I forgot to bring.

It is my perception that many people would find this whole scenario quite annoying, or at least inconvenient.  I won’t say that it wasn’t a bit inconvenient.  I have plenty to do without having to take time out for a flat.  However,  today was a great day.  Early to rise and out in the air before it got too heavy with moisture.  Working with my hands, learning a new skill to put into my repertoire, listening to my "Wake Up" play list featuring Bebo Norman, Shane and Shane, Andrew Peterson and Matthew Perryman Jones.  Interestingly enough, I was ready to be at work when the time came.  Toward the end of the day at work the heavens finally opened up here in Middle Tennessee and the rain that has been a long time in coming poured its sweet goodness on us.  I work behind an espresso bar, facing out with a view of S. 11th Street through 4 large windows.  Business was slow as molasses, which afforded me time to watch the rain.  Upon my arrival home I made dinner and did 3 loads of laundry. 

God is in the daily.  We were created for activity, one of the many places our Creator loves to meet us.

Thailand Pics

For all you who are interested, I’ve put some pictures from my trip to Chiang Mai on the site.  There is a new photo album in the bottom of the left hand column.  This isn’t an extensive photo album, but all I had the patience to upload.  Enjoy!

Oh, and here’s some video.  Look for me in the mirror!

Download in_the_mirror.MPG

Jealous of the Moon

"You’re starin’ down the stars
jealous of the moon
you wish you could fly
just stayin’ where you are
there’s nothin’ you can do
if you’re too scared to try"

-Chris Thile [from Why Should the Fire Die]

The Tennessean

I’m resisting the creeping realization that I am an adult.  There are two events that have happened upon me since living in Nashville  that remind me that I am indeed getting older.  The first happened back in December as I was traveling back to Indiana for Christmas.  I was radio station surfing for some good driving tunes when I came across a quartet of mandolin players playing Christmas carols.  I will not go into the depth of my excitement concerning this find for fear of exposing how nerdy I really am.  I discovered during a break in the music that I was listening to National Public Radio.  I aged in that very moment and have been waking up to NPR ever since.  A second thing that has occured multiple times and occured just today is that on my days off from work I do things such as: clean my apartment, balance my check book, pay my bills and do the laundry; very adult type things.  Today the adventure was getting my car smog tested, my Tennessee license plate, my Tennessee drivers license and registering to vote in the state of Tennessee.  I am an adult and a more official resident of the state of Tennessee.  A Tennessean by location.  A Hoosier, always, at heart.  So I guess it’s official for all of you who have asked me how long I’m
going to be in Tennessee.  As I have always known and have tried to
communicate, my time here is indefinite, dependent only upon the wind
of God.

ps. I took a test on the internet that is tells you your actual age based on a series of questions…I am 44.
pss.  The woman sitting behind me just said, in all seriousness, "that really chaps my hide".

The Three Variable Funny Test

the Cutting Edge

(60% dark, 43% spontaneous, 16% vulgar)
your humor style:
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | DARK



Your humor’s mostly innocent and off-the-cuff, but somehow there’s something slightly menacing about you. Part of your humor is making people a little uncomfortable, even if the things you say aren’t in and of themselves confrontational. You probably have a very dry delivery, or are seriously over-the-top. Your type is the most likely to appreciate a good insult and/or broken bone and/or very very fat person dancing.


PEOPLE LIKE YOU: David Letterman – John Belushi

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 74% on dark You scored higher than 39% on spontaneous You scored higher than 9% on vulgar

Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating

updated link

The link to Mosaic Nashville’s website under Places of Note now links to the actual website.  There have been a lot of changes here in our journey.  Due to those changes that link has not linked to anything in quite some time.  A new day has dawned.  Check out the project . 

atmosphere

I’m currently getting my face rocked off by Dallas Willard [thanks for the reading suggestion Chris ].  I’m making my way through The Divine Conspiracy .  This morning I finished up chapter 2, "Gospels of Sin Management" and  have begun chapter 3,  "What Jesus Knew:  Our God-Bathed World."   I can read no further without processing something, anything, because part of me feels like I’ve had the actual good news about who Jesus is presented to me for the first time, ever.  And, as I suppose it should be, I need a moment to catch my breath. 

We who profess Christianity will believe what is constantly presented to us as gospel.  If gospels of sin management are preached they are what Christians will believe.  And those in the wider world who reject those gospels will believe that what they have rejected is the gospel of Jesus Christ himself–when, in fact, they haven’t yet heard it

And so we have the result noted: the resources of God’s kingdom remain detached from human life.  There is no gospel for human life and Christian discipleship, just one for death or one for social action.  The souls of human beings are left to shrivel and die on the plains of life because they are not introduced into the environment for which they were made, the living kingdom of eternal life. [58]

Relevance to Culture is Not Optional. I have experienced first hand in the past 9 months how the gospels of sin management are far from relevant to the human experience; both the gospel from the left and the gospel from the right (social action and life after death).  The only way I know this to be inherently true, not just philosophically true, is through relationships with people who do not follow Jesus.  Good people, loving people, who hate the non-sense of the Christian message.  In Nashville, the gospel from the right is represented by most of the over 7,000 churches in the city, and as a result personal faith is detached from daily living.  One can believe in Jesus and not pay attention to a word he said, and apparently that is enough to receive the proverbial seal of approval.  People are ready to receive the benefits of Jesus’ death, but unwilling to step into his life of transformation.  This is so because a life of transformation is presented as the obliteration of all that is "wrong" with us, not our participation in God’s daily activity of interacting with his creation.  Sin management is a natural result of intimacy with God.  And intimacy with God is relevant to all cultures of all time.

And his presence is precisely what the word heaven or, more accurately, the heavens in plural, conveys in the biblical record as well as through much of Christian history…The "heavens" are always there with you no matter what, and the "first heaven," in biblical terms, is precisely the atmosphere or air that surrounds your body…But it is precisely from the space immediately around us that God watches and God acts…To be born "from above," in New Testament language, means to be interactively joined with a dynamic, unseen system of divine reality in the midst of which all of humanity moves about–whether it knows it or not…But do we actually believe this?  I mean, are we ready automatically to act as if we stand here and now and always in the presence of the great being…who fills and overflows all space, including the atmosphere around our body? [67-68]

That is a God in whom I can take stock.  That is an experience of which I want to be apart.  The vision of a God that permeates the atmosphere, interacting with and watching his creation with great joy is what I long to see when I hear the name of Jesus.  It is in being "interactively joined with a dynamic, unseen system of divine reality" that I can see my own life being transformed.  I know well enough that the gospels of sin management are not relevant, not only to the cultures of the world, but to me, personally, as a part of those cultures.  Exciting responsibility seems like a oxymoron to an extent, yet that is what I feel when I think of participating in this "dynamic unseen system of divine reality" as a result of intimacy with my creator. 

"And eternal life is this: to know you, the one true God, and him whom you sent, Yeshua the Messiah."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                           [John 17:3]

 

Revelation of the Month

I think my way out of feeling. 

Initially, like everyone, when an event occurs that gives rise to emotion, I feel.  Then I take that feeling and put it away for later when I can think about it.  When I get around to thinking about it, I will ask myself whether or not it was ridiculous to feel that way, whether it is hurt or joy or anger.   After considering every possibility, which generally negates the logic of all emotion, I will chuck those feelings into the pile with all the other feelings that have been there for years.  Unfortunately for me, those feelings aren’t biodegradable and therefore pose a mental health hazard to me and a whole lot of other people.

Learning to feel,

Adria