November 2: Gray Day, Apologies, Work

It has been a very gray day, in more ways than weather.  This morning, I found out that a good friend has a daughter who just received some very serious health news.  It sort of put a pall over the rest of the day for me.  I've been thinking about my friend and her family all day.  It's hard for me to know how to help them.  One of my other friends is planning on cooking something for them.  At the moment, all I can think to do is pray.

It's sad, but prayer is usually the last thing people turn to.  First, you try to fix the problem yourself.  When that doesn't work , you turn to the most appropriate professional.  Doctor.  Lawyer.  Psychiatrist.  McDonald's fry cook.  Then, when all else fails, you think of praying.  That's all back-asswards.  I have learned through my life's lessons that prayer shouldn't be the last resort.  It should be the first.  Because, in a lot of situations, prayer is the only thing that's going to do any good.

I must apologize for the fact that I have no new poem for you today.  I've started writing one, but just haven't found the time to sit and concentrate on it.  Perhaps I will get it done tomorrow for my disciples.  No promises at the moment.  I still have much to accomplish for my mythology class tomorrow afternoon.

That's all I have for ya this evening.  A plea for prayer and an apology.

Saint Marty hasn't been a very good saint or blogger or poet today.

Not the last resort...

November 2: Day of the Dead, All Souls' Day

Today is the Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) in Mexico and other Latin American countries.  On the Christian calendar, it's All Souls' Day.  In Mexico, people dress up as skeletons, eat skulls made out of sugar, hold skeleton parades, and visit cemeteries to leave goodies (candy, tequila, whatever) at the graves of the dearly departed.  All Souls' Day isn't quite as much fun.  No costumes.  No All Souls' Day chocolate souls.  No parades.  Just a church service where the people who died during the year are named, remembered, and prayed for.

Granted, the Day of the Dead sounds a little more colorful because of its pagan roots.  However, both versions of this day honor the memories of people who have gone to their eternal reward (or otherwise, if you get my meaning).  I find a day dedicated to honoring the dead very sacred, even if you are dancing around in a Jack Skellington costume.

Get me to a cemetery!

This past year, I've lost a few people from my life.  Most closely, I recently lost an aunt and an uncle.  However, throughout the year, many members of my church family have also passed.  And, at the university, I had two of my students die unexpectedly during the course of two semesters.  As I sit here, typing this post, I'm thinking about these individuals, calling up their faces in my mind, recalling the last time I saw or spoke with them, and saying a prayer for each.  I pray that they have found happiness and peace.  I pray that they left this world with no regrets.  I pray that God gave them a room with a view of the swimming pool.

Perhaps I'll have a drink to honor them tonight, as well.  I'm not a big fan of tequila, but a little spiked hot chocolate will do in a pinch.  Then I'll dig into my kids' Halloween candy and try to find something that approximates a sugar skull.  A Gummi eyeball?  A white jawbreaker?  I could carve a giant Tootsie Roll into the shape of a bone, I think.

All kidding aside, however or whatever you celebrate, the Day of the Dead or All Souls' Day, today you should remember what a gift life is.  Every morning your are able to get out of bed, brush your teeth, hug your significant other, and embarrass your children is a huge gift.  That's the great lesson of this holiday.  In the burial rite in the Book of Common Prayer, there is a line that reads, "In the midst of life, we are in death."

On this day that celebrates the dead, Saint Marty reaches out and gives thanks for the living.

I prefer my skulls to be almond-flavored

November 1: More Time, The Girl, the Gold Watch & Everything

Giving another midterm this afternoon, this time to my mythology class.  Frankly, I don’t understand why any of my students stress over my tests.  They seem fairly simple to me.  If a student reads what I assign and listens in class, maybe takes a few notes, he shouldn’t have a problem.  I Love these kind of teaching days.  I don’t have to perform too much, and I can get a lot of other busy work done, as well.

Today, for example, I will administer my midterm.  While my students are taking the midterm, I will be correcting their response papers and journals.  Once the last student finishes the midterm, I will have them write a journal entry about heroes, and then I will start discussing the story of Gilgamesh.  Simple as pecan pie.  For those of you who have never made a pecan pie, it’s pretty doggone simple, like pulling up a zipper.

I’m sort of glad that I scheduled a week like this for myself in the middle of the semester (I gave a midterm yesterday in Good Books, as well).  This time of year, I start to fall behind in almost all my activities—grading, reading, exercising, sleeping, everything but eating.  It makes me think of a TV movie from 1980 titled The Girl, the Gold Watch & Everything.  It’s about a guy who inherits from his rich uncle a pocket watch that can stop time.  That’s what I need.  Something that just gives me about twenty more hours in the day to get everything done.

I haven’t thought about that movie for years.  It was one of my favorites when I was a teenager, and even spawned a sequel, I believe.  I wanted to be Robert Hays in that movie.  Now, screw Robert Hays.  I’d be happy for just a couple more hours of sleep, or a day to get some teaching prep done.  I’ve really lowered my standards.

I’ve had more than one person tell me that God never gives you anything that He doesn’t think you can handle.

God must have a pretty high opinion of Saint Marty.

Whatever happened to Robert Hays?

November 1: Turkey Month, Starting Over, Clean Slate

Welcome to turkey month.  For those of my disciples not from the United States, November is the month we celebrate Thanksgiving.  Basically, on the fourth Thursday of the November, people cook a huge dinner of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, corn, a disgusting dish called greenbean casserole, yams, and pumpkin pies.  They gather with family and friends for an afternoon/evening of thanks and dysfunction.

I always find November rejuvenating for some reason.  I feel like everything's starting over, that the slate has been wiped clean, in November.  Maybe it's the upcoming holiday season.  Maybe it's the anticipation of the first (or, if you're in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, second or third) snow of the season that makes the world look fresh and clean.  Even when I stepped out of the door this morning, I had this sense of the world on the cusp of a big change.  The air was cool.  The smell of the leaves was everywhere.  And jack-o-lanterns were smashed up and down the street.

It's a time for renewal, for trying to do better.  The world, at least my small part of it, is headed into hibernation, but Thanksgiving and Christmas are on the way, times for celebration and joy.  Maybe it's like the ants in Aesop's fable of the "Grasshopper and the Ants."  Gathering time is over.  Now it's time to party.  For any grasshopper out there, winter's knocking on the door.  You better get to work or find an easy ant to shack up with.

Saint Marty likes to think of himself as an ant, ready to kick back, eat Cheetos, and watch reruns of M*A*S*H all winter.

I hear you knocking, but you can't come in