January 24: Busy Night, David Shumate, "Teaching a Child the Art of Confession"

I've had a busy night.  Lots of running around, getting things done.  Bought a new battery for my garage remote.  Dropped my daughter off at ballet practice.  Corrected quizzes from my film classes.  Recorded the grades in my grade book.  Finished up my lesson plan for Monday.  And now, for my final trick, I will type my second blog post of the day.

I've heard nothing new about my sister's condition.  Nothing about her heart test or discussion with the facial surgeon.  She was also supposed to see a neurologist today, as well.  I guess they're not sure if the infection has affected her brain.  Haven't heard anything about that, either.  It's strange, but I really have this feeling that she's going to be fine.  I don't know why.  Perhaps I'm simply not willing to entertain any other alternative.  Maybe it's faith.

I have a prose poem for you from a poet named David Shumate.  It's about confession and forgiveness.

Saint Marty was drawn to it for some reason tonight.

Teaching a Child the Art of Confession

It is best not to begin with Adam and Eve.  Original Sin is baffling, even for the most sophisticated minds.  Besides, children are frightened of naked people and apples.  Instead, start with the talking snake.  Children like to hear what animals have to say.  Let him hiss for a while and tell his own tale.  They'll figure him out in the end.  Describe sin simply as those acts which cause suffering and leave it at that.  Steer clear of musty confessionals.  Children associate them with outhouses.  Leave Hell out of the discussion.  They'll be able to describe it on their own soon enough.  If they feel the need to apologize for some transgression, tell them that one of the offices of the moon is to forgive.  As for the priest, let him slumber a while more.

An apple sounds pretty good to me tonight

April 22: Busier than I Want, Poem, "Rye" Dip Monday

I have been insanely busy today.  I've also been insanely productive.  I sat down this morning and made a list of tasks I needed to accomplish.  It was a huge, daunting list.  Thus far, I've been able to put a check mark by quite a few of my to-dos.

I needed to put together the in-class portion of the final exam for my Intro to Film classes.  Check.

I needed to make a hand-out for the short answer essay portion of the final exam.  Check.

I needed to construct an e-mail list for both of my Intro to Film classes to send them the link to the online course evaluation.  Check.

I needed to grade some extra-credit assignments.  Check.

In between all of these things, I've said my prayers, read my devotions, answered phones, put together medical charts, and processed patient payments.  Check, check, check on all those things.

Now, I have to write my first and second blog posts for the day.  I feel like I've gotten a lot done, but I don't have a lot to show for it.  I'd rather have a new poem than a completed list.  Ah, well.  Summer is coming, with tons more time to write (and tons more time to worry about finances).

My question for the Gospel according to Holden today is simple:

Will my the poetry manuscript I just put together win the chapbook contest I'm going to enter?

And the answer from the holy book is:

Old Phoebe didn't say anything.  When she can't think of anything to say, she doesn't say a goddam word.

Well, that sucks.  I've learned that I don't get too many positive responses from The Catcher in the Rye.  It probably has to do with the fact that it's about a teenager having a nervous breakdown.  However, I usually get some kind of answer, positive or negative.  Anything.  The passage above is the Magic 8 Ball equivalent of "Cannot predict now" or "Ask again later."


Maybe Saint Marty will give his copy of Catcher a shake and ask again.  Or maybe he'll just live with the uncertainty for a while.  It's better than Holden calling him a pain in the ass or a goddam phony.

You can count on it!

August 20: Being Productive

I love being productive.

I knew this morning that I had a lot of busy work to get done.  Detail work.  Little tasks that amounted to a whole pile of time.  Well, I have accomplished everything I set out to accomplish today and more.  I actually completed my syllabus this afternoon.  I didn't expect to finish a final draft of that until tomorrow afternoon.  However, once I started working on it, I just kept going.  It's done, and I feel great about myself.  Yes, I am patting myself on the back.  This means that I can pretty much relax this evening after my meeting at church.

I wish I cold always feel this productive.  I like being ahead of schedule.  It puts my mind at ease.  But I'm not generally this organized or ambitious.  I tend to be a terrible procrastinator.  If I hadn't finished my syllabus this afternoon, I probably would have pushed it off until Friday, and then I would have been in a state of panic, considering classes start next Monday.  I want to be over-prepared for stuff like that.

I have these two opposing natures:  wanting to be over-prepared versus wanting to put everything off until the last minute.  It's a terrible dilemma.  When push comes to shove, my over-prepared persona wins out.  However, I can be easily persuaded by my procrastinating persona to sit on the couch and watch a rerun of M*A*S*H instead.

No M*A*S*H for Saint Marty today.  B. J. and Hawkeye will have to stay in the Swamp, drinking by themselves, unless they can convince Colonel Potter to join them.

Sorry, boys, not tonight