Monday, August 26, 2013

the 37th week

the bell tower at the end of our street
Monday. Chloe and I opened, and I spent the afternoon hanging out with Mandy and Isaac. Ams and Traci came over, and then Blake, Trac, Ams and I got dinner at Keystone Bar & Grill in Oakley; I got the Rhinegeist Truth beer. The Loth House was grand: The Wrath of Paul Bunyan and hanging out on the lawn with Mandy, Ams and Sarah C., and we talked A LOT about dinosaurs, much to my delight.

Tuesday. Chloe and I opened. We have a new hire: Tori, a CCUer who's friends with Tibbles. I keep forgetting her name, and I've called her "the Loyalist" several times. Josh went full time to Coffee Emporium. I spent my afternoon and evening hanging out with Isaac & Mandy, Kevin and Ams. I tried taking a nap but Mandy banged on my door and screamed my name until I woke up. Yup, just like old times! We drank rum on the balcony late into the night.

Wednesday. Amos and I opened. Sarah called off sick, so work was crazy. I napped and then perked up with coffee at The Anchor, and I swung by the Loth House to visit John and Brandy (Amos was roasting downtown all night). Back home I fixed a Greek pizza for dinner, and Ams came over in a bad mood: her and Josh are officially kaput. The two of us plus Mandy and Isaac spent the evening hanging out and listening to Mariee Sioux.

Thursday. Chloe, Tori and I opened; Sarah's still sick. Most of my afternoon was spent reading and hanging out with Isaac, Kevin and Mandy. Isaac broke out his homebrew and Kevin played guitar. Mandy and I curled up on the sofa and read late into the night: she's reading Tom Robbins and I'm reading a book about the struggle to create the American republic between 1765 and 1801. 

Friday. The Land of Taz has been hell this week, and next week will be no better. *SIGH* Times such as these make me see my need for a new job. Tibbles and the littlest Tiblet came into work to do some baking; it was good seeing them. I miss Thursday nights with Eric and his family. Mandy walked to work from our apartment for a free salad and coffee, and we headed home for an afternoon of Breaking Bad. Ams, Sarah C., and Andy came over for an evening of lamenting female circumcision. Ams and Sarah headed home, Andy and Mandy went to see a show at The Comet in Northside, and I ended the night finishing two books: Life After Death and Introverts in the Church.

Saturday. I "slept in," got dressed, picked up coffee from UDF, and ran downtown to grab my check. Mandy went to clean Sarah's apartment, and I spent most of the day napping, reading, and grocery shopping. Mandy and I had a cleaning party when she returned (she did most of it), and we spent the evening hanging out before Corey came home from Bright around midnight and whisked her away to Indiana.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor before hitting up U.C.C., and then I headed north to enjoy dinner at home with Mom, Dad and Ams. This is Ams' last night at Mom and Dad's: she's moving into her new place tomorrow, and that will be lots of fun, I'm sure.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

"Life After Death"

Dinesh D’Souza is a Christian looking to make an argument for the existence of life after death. His Christian bias colors his research no less than Dawkins’ bias colors his, and we can forgive him of this. While he acknowledges that his arguments don’t support a strictly Judeo-Christian approach to spirituality and life after death, the final chapter is written precisely to persuade skeptics over to Christian faith.

Much of D’Souza’s argument revolves around a critique of reductionist materialism, the idea that (a) all that exists is matter, and (b) everything can be boiled down to physical phenomenon. Reductionist materialism, a philosophy that ran rampant within scientific circles and which lies at the heart of much atheist critique, is a philosophy that’s slowly unraveling and falling apart. Reductionist materialists leave no room for anything, or Anyone, beyond the physical, and the assumption that matter is all that exists can be neither confirmed nor denied, and it can’t be tested by the scientific method. The limits of the physical sciences tell us that if there is more to reality than that which meets our senses (and discoveries in physics seem to tell us this is the case), the scientific method is all but useless for detecting it. D’Souza addresses reductionist materialism again and again throughout his book, arguing against it in almost every chapter. He’s insistent that there’s reason for us to believe that reductionist materialism has it all wrong, that there is more to reality than physical phenomenon.

Data exists confronting the assumptions of reductionist materialism, data that supports “another world” beyond the world that we can taste, see, touch, smell and hear. Throughout several chapters, D’Souza brings evidence to the table: some (not all) Near Death Experiences, the universal belief in “another world” beyond ours, and recent discoveries in physics, neuroscience, and philosophy. The existence of morality—not a moral code but a sense of good and bad, of what IS and what OUGHT to be—doesn’t make sense to the reductionist materialists, but positing “another world” into the equation, a world of justice against which we measure our lives, DOES account for such morality. He argues that belief in God, an afterlife, and spiritual realms is justifiable in light of physics, neuroscience, Western philosophy, and morality. It makes sense of the data in a coherent manner. That belief is justifiable doesn’t mean that it’s right, but because of the widespread, global belief in spiritual things and immortality, the burden of proof remains on the handful of Western scientists possessed by their fundamentalist assumption of reductionist materialism who’re disagreeing with the rest of the world because of a different set of assumptions. Not only do reductionist materialists seem unable to rid the world of belief in the supernatural, their efforts have backfired and made room for the supernatural.

My major critique of the book lies in two chapters near the tail-end of the book. D’Souza argues that belief in an afterlife is both good for society and good for ourselves. It’s apparent why he brings such a discussion to the forefront: throughout the book he argues against New Atheists such as Dawkins, Hitchens, and Dennett (he considers two of them to be cherished friends), and one of the major thrusts of the New Atheists is the argument that religion and belief in the supernatural isn’t simply illogical but dangerous: “Look at all the evil that’s happened in light of religion!” D’Souza points out that the arguments of the New Atheists are unfounded, that much good has come from belief in the supernatural. This is all well and good, but when he starts advocating belief simply because it’s better for society and us than non-belief, he’s in error: the effects of a belief in life don’t prove a belief to be true, they just prove a belief to be “workable.” What matters is if a belief is TRUE, regardless of the effects of that belief in a person’s life. D’Souza makes good arguments against the New Atheist’s accusations, but the whole argument is an irrelevant sideshow to the issue, since even if religion (or atheism) has directly caused suffering, violence, etc., that’s no reflection on the truthfulness of the belief. The cause of evil is human nature and free will, regardless of beliefs or ideologies. Some beliefs may indeed act as springboards for evil, but again: that’s no reflection on the truthfulness. The issue isn’t “What’s best?” or “What works?” but “What’s TRUE?” I find all the arguments about which is better for the world, religion or atheism, to be tiring, nothing but a bunch of polemics and apologetics that don’t tell us anything about belief: if atheism causes evil, that doesn’t make it false, and if religion makes people better people, that doesn’t make it true.

His final chapter, written solely from a Christian point of view, is a defense of Christ’s resurrection along the lines of N.T. Wright’s argument in The Resurrection of the Son of God: the resurrection isn’t simply historically possible, it’s also historically plausible according to current historical methods. Alternative theories to explain what happened “back then” from scientific, psychological, or sociological phenomenon don’t make sense of the data in a coherent manner, but the presupposition that Christ DID die and DID rise from the grave makes sense of the historical data. The leap involved is an admittance that reductionist materialism may be wrong, and because that assumption lies at the heart of much scientific thought and practice, the traditional explanation, that Christ did die and rise from the grave, must be tossed out. The problem of the resurrection doesn’t lie in historical implausibility but in how it runs against such cherished scientific assumptions as reductionist materialism. Following his brief arguments for the historicity of Christ’s resurrection, the final chapter seems to plummet: the writing becomes sloppy and disconnected as he writes about Christian conceptions of the afterlife, heaven and hell.

One of my favorite quotes in the book comes from page 204: “Even within its acknowledged jurisdiction, science discovers not final, but only provisional truths, always subject to amendment as new evidence comes in. If we take as truth what science today holds to be true, we would do well to remember that a hundred years ago the advocates of science adopted precisely the same position, and yet virtually every scientific proposition of that era has been radically revised or replaced in the intervening decades. It is quite likely that many scientific truths of today will look quaint, if not ridiculous, a hundred years from now.” The scientific presuppositions and frameworks for understanding our world have been changing, but no one seems to notice or comprehend. All of physics has been turned on its head over the past few decades, but no one knows: high school physics text-books still teach old models and theories that have been revised or discarded altogether. Science has made room for the existence of God and spiritual realities, but no one’s really talking about it because it undermines reductionist materialism, which lies at the core of Western science. 

Friday, August 23, 2013

[latte art]


Is that a bowl of ice cream with pieces of a chocolate chip cookie?
It sure is. Sadly, I couldn't find any sprinkles.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

update[z]

Work has been hell lately. I've found Tazza Mia goes through these cycles: chaos reigns, then simmers, and things go well for but a moment before the chaos reignites. I'm forced to wonder if it's worth it, getting paid just a meager more than a busboy and working as the assistant store manager. I've been applying for other jobs and keeping my ear to the ground, but I don't feel a desperate need to jump ship. I like the people I work with, and I like the work I do. I'm a significant part of the day-to-day operations, as Eric has made clear and as Tiffany emphasizes all the time: the place may very well go to hell without me (testified to when the store went to hell the week I wasn't running the morning and afternoon). Part of it may be that I just don't like change. I adapt to change fairly well, and I don't mind change most of the time; I just don't go out of my way to make it happen. It's part of my personality. The good news is that my six month review went well. Eric says I'm kicking ass but I need to embrace my authority. 

I've found that the one thing I want to do when I clock out and abandon the chaos for the rest of the day is go home, nestle up on the couch, and read. I've been reading like a FIEND lately. And when I'm not reading, I'm usually (a) hanging out with people or (b) turning people into zombies. Here's a not-so-scary and a little bit silly picture of Mandy as a zombie:


Creepy, no? A collage for Monday Nights crew will be here in October to commence, on my blog, Season 4 of The Walking Dead.

Another big change in my life: Mandy Hoos is back! And her last name is still Hoos! I had no idea. She's in my phone as Amanda Thomas. Regardless, it's great to have her back and everyone loves having her around. It's just like old times, and I love her like a sister. I count it a joy to help her out when I can, and she returns the favor with sisterly moments, such as banging on my door for about ten minutes without thinking, "Hey, maybe he's napping?" I can't be mad: she cleaned out my car, and that's worth being woken up from a nap.

In sadder (read: tragic) news, Corey's mom passed away. That's the reason Mandy moved here from Montana, to be with him when he needed it most. Yet another tragedy strikes so close to home, and the closer the tragedies striker, the deeper the cut into our naivety. Death and suffering reveal the nature of reality and revoke our former innocence. The teenage illusion of our immortality is chipped away as death stalks those whom we love, and smashed when knowledge of our own mortality greets us face-to-face. In light of all this, the best we can do is live well, honor our Creator, and enjoy life's gifts as much as we can. This is, after all, the recommendation of Ecclesiastes after the author exposes the futility of life. Death takes everything, so we should live in the moment knowing that one day we will decay, we will die, and we will face God. We'll be washed and buried one day, my girl, and the time we were given will be left to the world. The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague, so let the memories be good for those who stay. I empathize with those who doubt God's love in the face of such tragedies, but I cling to faith. Tragedy fits into my worldview, but a logical assessment of tragedy doesn't speak to the pain, frustration, and bewilderment caused by senseless death. I've heard it said that one day we'll find that our beliefs will mock us, save us, or die with us. I like to believe Jim and Carol's saved them.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

"Introverts in the Church"

Written primarily for introverted ministers or ministers seek to not ostracize introverts, this book aims to show that (a) introverts are gifted by God and (b) have useful places in the church, not least in leadership. He begins with an analysis of introversion and extroversion, and he traces the evangelical bias towards extroversion back through the centuries to religious revivals in the colonial era. 

McHugh argues that introverts are gifted by God and have roles to play; introversion isn't an accident, and it isn't something to be ashamed of. He examines how evangelical spirituality is focused on DOING, DOING, DOING, and spiritual prowess is measured by how much you're involved in social events in the church and how charismatic you are in your devotion. Introverts are often seen as aloof, disconnected, not a part of the community, and are often told they need to grow in their faith to become "more like Christ" (that is, extroverted). He looks at how introverts are wired to live differently, and how spiritual practices such as lectio divina, the Examen, and various monastic habits are suited for introverts and have been bedrock practices in the life of christendom (although they have been largely forgotten in extroverted Western churches).

A considerable bulk of the book is written for introverted ministers, of whom there are quite a few. He lists prominent ministers throughout America who identify as introverts, and the names would shock you, as would their confessions about what ministry can be like for them: exhausting and draining. My favorite quip is one who said that he HATED the hour after church because he was expected to converse with everyone. Really, it does sound a lot like hell. McHugh shows how the most recent paradigms for leadership with charismatic, outgoing leaders at the top of the food chain is slowly being disassembled for a paradigm making more than enough room for introverted leaders. Introverts have countless gifts and talents to bring to the table, and as Western bias is shifting away from extroversion, the common sense of these assets are coming to light. 

He rounds out the book with a chapter on introverted evangelism and another on introverts in the church: "How can churches not ostracize introverts? By what criteria should an introvert choose a church?" A quote caught my eye: "[When] introverts enter into worship, we are apt to come trembling before a God whose mysterious otherness often reduces us to silent awe. For us, quite is often the context for heartfelt worship. For centuries a 'sanctuary' was not only a holy place for worship but also a safe harbor for refugees. When introverts go to church, we crave sanctuary in every sense of the word, as we flee from the disorienting distractions of twenty-first-century life. We desire to escape from superficial relationships, trivial communications and the constant noise that pervade our world, and find rest in the probing depths of God's love. We want to hear God's voice, which comes to us more often in whispers than in triumphant shouts." (191) I identify with all that, and I wonder if my love for old-fashioned, traditional services comes from that. My favorite church gathering took place in a decrepit wooden church in the backwoods of the Appalachian mountains in Tennessee; we lit candles, gathered in the pews, took time to sit quiet and still in prayer and awe before God. My second favorite was somewhere near New Carlisle, a small and whitewashed country church, where they sang hymns and various people read scripture or gave thoughts, very simple and quiet. Perhaps this is the reason I envy the churchgoers of colonial America. 

I really liked the chapter on evangelism, or at least part of it (I generally don't like it when evangelism is boiled down to Tips & Techniques, if only because my brain doesn't work on what some would call a "pragmatic" level). McHughemphasizes that while evangelism has been tailored towards extroverts by evangelical Christianity, this doesn't give introverted Christians a free pass: evangelism and discipleship are integral to the Christian life. He argues that the "sales pitch" style of Western evangelism is skewed towards extroverts, but introverts evangelize through their compassion, their listening, their ability to be a companion to another in times of trial and hurt. I'll be honest: I don't get pumped about evangelism. It's not that I'm afraid of conflict, it's that I just love harmony. Besides, the "dark nature of epistemology"--the fact that none of us can ever really KNOW anything--makes evangelism as a sales pitch revolting. Who am I to tell someone that my beliefs are absolutely true and they should conform to them when (a) if I'm honest with myself, I can't be one hundred percent that my beliefs are true, and (b) humility demands that we confess that there's no way we're right about everything we believe. At the least, I'd say, twenty percent of what I believe about the world is wrong--and those can be big things or little things. 

McHugh's advocacy of dialogue as evangelism brings me a sort of comfort. Let's admit that (a) we all have metanarrative, ways that we see the world, and that (b) our worldviews are the lens through which we interpret what we experience. Let's also admit that the nature of epistemology means we should be humble, but not the sort of humility where you claim to believe nothing. We all believe things to be true in the absence of definitive proof. We have assumptions and presuppositions, frameworks for sizing up and interpreting the data that comes at us, and we all have more than a little bit of bias in the things we believe. Let's admit that there are multiple ways of interpreting reality that are justifiable, though some are more justifiable than others. I think that if we can respect one another's views, even when we disagree with their conclusions or arguments, and if we can be civil human beings, good talks will be had and both of us may learn something (after all, everyone's right about some things and wrong about others). We're all trying to make sense of reality, reshaping our worldviews in tweaks and leaps, in the interplay of experience and interpretation. We're all pilgrims in the Unknown, on the road to Somewhere; a little bit of camaraderie would be nice, and beneficial. 

Monday, August 19, 2013

the 36th week

taken from the Loth House
Monday. Corey and Mandy were home when I returned after work, and Corey's brother John came over with his son Cloud. I went to the Loth House for an evening of Rock Band with the usual crew plus Mandy. 

Tuesday. Ams came over after work, and we played video games and went grocery shopping. She headed home, and I fixed penne pasta with broccoli, mushrooms, and scallops and watched The Untouchables on Netflix. Kevin Costner is an awful actor.

Wednesday. Jobst and I met up at Rock Bottom for dinner after I closed 600 and enjoyed some quiet time at The Anchor. I got nachos and a beer, and we caught up and went out onto the Square and watched Reggae.

Thursday. Chloe and I opened. I did lots of reading after work, and Ams and I were going to go to Carol's funeral in Indiana but traffic ensnared Ams on her way to pick me up, and we wouldn't have been able to get to the funeral before it ended. We both felt pretty shitty about it, wanted to give Corey our support. I figure there will be time enough for that. Ams headed home and I watched some documentaries: The Confederate States of America (a satire) and The God Who Wasn't There, a polemic against religion and especially Christianity (basically The New Atheism documentary-style).

Friday. I spent the afternoon reading and writing and got Subway for dinner. I headed to Riverbend to hang out with Sarah and her peeps in an old country house near U.S. Grant's birthplace. Sarah's awesome, has so many stories, has lived such an interesting life. I wouldn't mind "Storytime with Sarah" on a regular basis.

Saturday. I headed over to Amos' rather early to hang out and play video games, and I headed out to Bright, IN to see Corey and Mandy at The Gathering Place. I brought Mandy home with me, and we hung out and took naps. Ams joined us, and we went to the Loth House and she locked her keys in her car and we had to call AAA. Amos joined us further north in Clifton at the mansion where John and Brandy are dog-sitting, and we hung out in the kitchen and drank beers and had a pretty chill night.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor to do some reading--finished two books on the War of American Independence--and spent the afternoon cleaning and lounging around. My evening was spent with Isaac and Mandy, Ams, Blake and Traci. 

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

books I've been reading


I've been doing a considerable amount of reading lately, getting back to my roots. When I was in high school, I read for about thirty minutes to an hour every night before bed. Falling asleep with a book in your hands is far better than falling asleep to sitcom reruns. The first book, Almost a Miracle, is the story of the War for American Independence (histories of the American Revolution tend to focus on the revolution itself, with the war often treated as a sideshow; military histories, such as this, is where the juicy stuff is found, IMHO). Ferling is one of my favorite historians of the colonial era (my second favorite is Fred Anderson who specializes in the French & Indian War, but who has also written books on the colonial era in general, and he's even written a great book on the War of 1812). The second book, an atlas of the battles, is a perfect companion to any military history of the Revolution. I love atlases and maps, following the movements of the armies and the actions in the heat of battle is so much easily comprehended when you can follow the actions geographically. The book covers the majority of the pitched battles in the war and even covers some of the more dramatic moments in the partisan warfare of the southern backcountry. 

Monday, August 12, 2013

the 35th week


Monday. DeJuan and I opened, and lunch was crazy with only four of us. I spent my afternoon hanging out with Blake & Isaac, and Traci joined us at the Loth House for an evening of Metallica Guitar Hero.

Tuesday. DeJuan and I opened, and I went by Amos' after work since he had the day off, and we played some MW3. Back at the house I got down on some Birds of Steel and grabbed Subway for dinner (and since I'm broke, I maxxed out my Subway card). 

Wednesday. Chloe and I closed shop. I'm going to start closing on days when Amos is roasting. Traffic home was hell, thanks to the Pure Romance convention and the Reds game. I spent a quiet night at home: did some reading, watched Titanic on Netflix, and showered before crawling into bed around 9 PM, totally exhausted.

Thursday. Isaac's in Montana hanging out with Mandy, and he got some shitty news: his mom's lung cancer has spread to her brain. So "shitty" is an understatement. "2013. What a shitty year," I told Amos. Work sucked: both Frank and Sarah called off, and we've fired too many people to call in anyone else. I went by Frank's place on Liberty after work, and then I spent a quiet evening watching TV.

Friday. Corey Isaac returned from Montana: his mom isn't doing too good, and they've given her just the weekend. Mandy returned with him, too, for an indefinite stay. I met up with them at CVG and ferried Mandy to the apartment, where she'll be crashing. "It's great to have you back, though I'd prefer it be under different conditions." Ams came over, and Mandy surprised the shit out of her. Dylan joined us, and we took shots and hung out for a while. Mandy passed out and Ams left, and Dylan and I ran to Liberty Street to see Frank and Rebecca, and then we watched Daft Punk Youtube videos and went to bed.

Saturday. I spent most of the day watching the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy, and my evening was spent at the Loth House with Amos, John & Brandy, Frank and Rebecca. It was Frank's birthday, so we took shots in the kitchen. John liked how I "chase" shots not with juice but with water cupped into my hands from the kitchen faucet. "You are a MAN!" I was home by 11:00, arriving as Isaac and Mandy returned from Hospice, and we were up until 1 AM. His mom's still alive but no longer responding; at this point it's just a waiting game.

Sunday. I woke too late for The Anchor and U.C.C., but NOT too late for Dusmesh with Amos. The house was quiet tonight: Corey and Mandy were in Indiana with Corey's mom, and Blake spent the evening at Jeff's. I spent the day reading and writing and was up until 1 AM thanks to coffee. Mandy texted me late in the night: "Corey's mom has passed." Fucking awful.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

"The Devil's Delusion"

McGrath's The Dawkins Delusion criticized Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion from a markedly Christian perspective. The Devil's Delusion by Berlinski criticizes the New Atheism movement as a whole, focusing at times on Dawkins, other times on Hitchens, and so on and so forth. Furthermore, and this what makes me like the book more than McGrath's, it's written from a purely theistic perspective. Berlinski doesn't practice a faith of his own and supports theism--the belief in a higher power, such as God--without staking a claim in any particular religious slant. His writing style is much more philosophical and open-ended than McGrath's, and his almost lofty, vague musings at points raise more questions than answers, but in the good way like you want. Click HERE for my book notes. 

Friday, August 09, 2013

U.C.C. INFP-style


I've been going to University Christian Church as of late, whenever I can, weaseling my way in INFP style. Social gatherings without a personal companion are always intimidating for me, and as much as I'd like to think my mannerisms challenge social norms, Mandy made a good point when she said, "There's a difference between challenging social norms and being challenged by them." She has a good point. 

My hardcore introverted side cringes at the thought of being immersed in a sea of people whom I don't know, people who might try to talk to me, and U.C.C. is perfect, because it has a balcony for all the introverts (comparing the "Meet and Greet" in the balcony to the "Meet and Greet" on the main level rises striking contrasts). Here we can sit, observe, think, and not feel ourselves drained by the crowd surrounding us. We don't have to find ourselves squashed and suffocated by euphoric worship; we have our corner above to be subdued and contemplative.

As much as I'd like to just sit and think in obscurity throughout the whole thing, I know I can't let my introverted side dictate everything I do. Just as introverts need to push their "comfort zones," so do we introverts. I participated in communion the other day, something I had to literally stomach the nerve to do. I always like it when communion is passed on trays, it lets me stay in my quiet and meditative state without interruption. U.C.C. does the more communal style where you gather together in a line, take your juice and cracker from the tray at the front of the sanctuary, and then take it back to your seat. This means I have to get up from my seat in the balcony, go down to the main level, and then blend myself with the crowd. Seriously. It was like panic attack central. But I pulled it off, and it wasn't too awkward, and someone even smiled at me, which was cool. Part of stretching my safety zone is actually participating in "Meet and Greet"; generally I leave the apartment (or the Anchor) five minutes late to try and miss that part, though sometimes I terrifyingly get stuck in the middle of it with all the other awkward introverts up there with me. But I'm going to start showing up on time, and I think if I treat them as I would treat customers at the cafe, I'll do all right.

All this talk about introversion in the church leads me to my last point: I've been reading a book called (originally enough) Introverts in the Church, and it's about how the modern church is biased towards extroversion and even prejudiced against introversion, to the point where introverts' gifts are marginalized and their lack of enthusiasm about extroverted ideals is seen as spiritual weakness. Much of the book is about introversion as a whole and how introverts can participate and contribute to the church's mission in ways that are in sync with their God-given introverted personalities. It's a kickass book, and I'm sure quotes from it will be on this blog in due time. 

Wednesday, August 07, 2013

workin' it


Life in the Tazza Land has been HELL lately. We've fired two people, hired two people, and then one of our new hires took another job and Frank quit. We've been understaffed and to make it even better, our Micros system was down for two weeks. "Skeleton Crew" could never be more aptly used to describe our current situation. Every day is an adventure (or something like that), and as much as I do love the challenge, it gets more than frustrating. I'm happy to work with such great people and to be part of a coffee shop that sells pretty kickass coffee compared to most places, and I like the fact that I've worked my ass off and moved up from the lowest-rung food prep person to the assistant store manager. All that aside, however, is the knowledge that (a) there's no more room for advancement and (b) I make waaay too little to call this any sort of career. Consequently, (c) I need to get a different job. And maybe even (d) start a career.

I've been throwing out resumes left and right, applying at various organizations and businesses, but so far no takers. There's a saying that once you get in coffee, you stay in coffee. It isn't because we just fall in love with coffee and could never imagine doing anything else; it's simply that our resumes are tailored, quite exclusively, to one niche in the marketplace. Cafe after cafe isn't exactly a recipe for a kickass resume, and when employers see "Cincinnati Christian University," their first thought is, "Oh, look, a useless degree in redundant liberal arts." Not that my degree's useless: I cherish the time I had at C.C.U. and the way it's shaped me to think differently than a lot of people (Frank told me the other day that he noticed bible college graduates tend to think differently than msot people, and in an interesting way). My undergraduate sets me up to get my Master's, and that's the obvious next step.

The question, though: "What should I pursue a Master's in?" The old addage goes, "Do what you love." And so I immediately want to start my Master's in American History. But the saying isn't "Do what you love for the cost of 20-30,000 dollars." If I'm honest with myself, my main motivation for a Master's in American History is the appetizing thought of just immersing myself in history for hours on end and learning about these things through lectures and homework. I'm a dork, I know. But I can do all of this for free, the downside being that I don't have a piece of paper saying I know what I'm talking about. As cool as such a paper would be, 20,000-something dollars is a pretty steep price. Dan Dyke told me a long time ago that it doesn't make sense to get a Master's in something just because you want to; the whole point of a Master's is to qualify yourself to get a degree where you can earn enough to pay back all your college loans. If you can't get a job enabling you to pay it back, then the degree was really a stupid idea, no matter how cool the paper may look or how accomplished it'd make you feel. Whatever I get my degree in needs to be something in which I can make enough to pay back my loans. I can justify my Master's in American History by telling myself that I can get a teaching job; but (a) the teaching market is flooded, (b) those with bachelor's degrees are chosen over those with Master's because the less qualified you are, the less they have to pay you (a big deal when school budgets are being slashed to the bone), and (c) every article I've read online about the worst college degrees mentions history at the top of the list (usually right next to Library Science and Religion). 

Monday, August 05, 2013

the 34th week


Monday. I went to Panera across the street from work to read the bible and pray. Coffee and scripture, a good way to start the morning. I'm F.P. all week since Sarah's on vacation in Florida. Dave was fired Friday. Amos opened, and when we got off work we went to his place to play video games. My afternoon was spent dicking around: I got Chipotle for dinner and jetted to the Loth House for shirtless Rock Band. I made Traci laugh so hard she pissed herself!

Tuesday. DeJuan was late again, so he got a "two weeks notice," and then he's gone. Amos was forty-five minutes late, and Chloe didn't know the door code so she arrived on time but couldn't get in. And Brandon had two catering orders and looked ready to kamikaze Tazza Mia. At least my morning coffee and scripture was uneventful! Amos, John and I kicked back with Smuttynose chamomile beers in the Loth House lawn, and I spent my evening reading and hanging out with Isaac.

Wednesday. Helluva busy day: Panera before work, work meeting till 7:00 (coffee tastings and a spur-of-the-moment latte art competition), and then I rushed home for an evening hanging out with Dylan, who's back from Mozambique. Ams joined us, and we grabbed Chipotle for dinner and played video games, hung out in the living room listening to music, and shared so many stories from the Old Days and what's transpired since. It was so good to see him. He's heading to D.C. in a month to work for a bit before Grad School. Having him back, it was just like old times. It feels like just yesterday he was shipping out and we were saying we'd miss each other. Miss one another we sure did, and it's crazy to think it's been 2 1/2 years. He piped up about how weird it is for people he knows to be so different now, but at least I haven't changed: I'm still the goofy, warm, laid-back guy I've always been (much to my own detriment). He wanted to stay up until 2 AM so I drank a bunch of coffee and he was passed out by 11:00.

Thursday. Corey and Chloe opened. It's Corey's last day. He's off to The Gathering Place in Bright the next state over. Corey had a bunch of people over to the apartment: Josh and Ty from Fusian, Dejuan and his girlfriend, and T.J. came, too. We hit up the Happy Hollow and I had a few shots of whiskey and downed it with orange juice.

Friday. Work was slammed, a fitting conclusion to a chaotic week. I napped until 5:00 and made pork chops and Mac-&-Cheese for dinner and watched The Hunger Games on Netflix. A nice, relaxing evening; I needed it.

Saturday. I slept in till 8:00, went downtown to do the USFoods order and visit Amos, and after lunch with Dad and a new bike tire at Frisch's, I headed downtown to hang out with Amos, Frank and Rebecca on Liberty Street. I spent the rest of the evening relaxing at home watching The Pianist.

Sunday. I went to U.C.C. and even braved the crowd to partake in communion! Andy, Amos and I got Dusmesh for lunch and Ams came over. We got groceries from Kroger. Corey returned from his weekend in Bright. Ams, Andy and Amos headed out and when Blake came home we played NBA Jam.

Saturday, August 03, 2013

books I've been reading



I haven't done as much reading as of late as I'd like, or at least haven't been making too much headway in anything. As I told Chloe, one of our new employees, I'm always reading like six books at once. For some reason I'd rather dip my toes in several ponds at once rather than plunge headfirst into one of them. Really, the latter is probably optimal: focusing on one book, solely, certainly makes it easier to comprehend. My mind, much like my life, is pretty scatterbrained, so I get ADHD if I spend too much time on a single subject. I'd like to compare myself to Benjamin Franklin (who wouldn't?) for being involved in so many different subjects, but unlike him I have no accomplishments to show for it.

These two books I recently finished were pretty phenomenal. I started reading a different history of World War 2, but I left it on top of Ams' car and she sped away with it. I searched the streets but to no avail. No worries, though: its replacement, Inferno by Max Hastings, was far more enjoyable. I particularly liked his focus on the oft-forgotten Eastern Front, the theater between Russia and Germany. Many histories, written by British or Americans, treat the Eastern Front as a sideshow to what the other Allied powers were doing in France and the Pacific. This is ridiculous, since it was really Russia who brought the Germans to their knees (the other Allied powers pretty much just bit it in its ass). Strange how close to ninety percent of World War Two's casualties can occur in the Eastern Front and yet modern histories treat this as peripheral to the real action. Bias certainly skews things.

The second book, a work of historical fiction, follows prominent characters in World War 2--Eisenhower, Patton, and Rommel, for instance--through the final year of the North African campaign. I've always been partial to Shaara's historical fiction, but I've found that I enjoy his "earlier" works better (those pertaining, no surprise, to the American Revolution and the Civil War). World War 2 fascinates me, and I love reading it, but colonial American history up through the Reconstruction Era is what I'm really into. Consider it an historical fetish, if you will. On that note, I'm putting my reading through Shaara's novels on hold for a bit to satisfy my appetite for colonial matters with Almost A Miracle by the colonial American historian John Ferling.

where we're headed

Over the last several years, we've undergone a shift in how we operate as a family. We're coming to what we hope is a better underst...