"Nature Boy" Jason Hall: Friend of the Day

There's this guy that posts comments here at Jive To The Monkey. His name is Jason "The Damage" Ramage. He gets a lot of great ideas when he's sitting on his toilet. We're going to launch a relationship show together, since we obviously are both so great with the ladies.

There's this other Jason that gets jive with monkeys a lot. He checks out this blog from time to time, but he never posts. Always under the surface, that one. That's the kind you have to watch out for. Nevertheless, his name is Jason Hall, and he is the first recipient of my new Friend of the Day award. This post will honor him.

First off, Jason can't be all bad because he makes my best buddy Stacey very happy.

Second, if you were to see Jason -- like, if I were not too stupid to know how to post pictures on this blog -- he looks like someone who would be into maybe punk, emo, alt rock, or something. Maybe even hip hop. So, when I first met Jason (Stacey had ordered him out of a catalog because she wasn't having any luck in the dating world), I was very surprised, as were all the Nightriders (my superhero friends) to find that Jason's favorite kind of music is country. OLD country. Classic country. So I wrote this song about him. It's a slow/medium song with a very country beat. The lyrics:

His name is Jason, and like the Free Masons he's a little bit hard to read.
His appearance says "New York City" but his music says "Tennessee."
Ain't got no boots, no big belt buckle. Ain't even got a hat.
But he's sure 'nuff got some ear-rings and tattoo -- how 'bout that!

Jason, tell me son, how'd your image get so out of whack?
Don'cha know at the Grand Ol' Opry you could get whipped for looking like that?
You'd expect him to dig the Ramones,
The Butthole Surfers or at least the Stones,
Instead he talkin' 'bout ol' George Jones ....
Yodel-a-he-who, Yodel-a-he-who, Yodel-a-he.
Yodel-a-he, Yodel-a-he, yay-e-he!

Another thing about this man, I may as well get off my chest:
If he tries to tell you 'bout a haunted house, tell him to give it a rest.
He made us drive way below Danville. Let me tell you what I saw --
That haunted house was just as corny as a marathon of Hee Haw.

Jason, tell me son, how'd your image get so out of whack?
Don'cha know at the Grand Ol' Opry you could get whipped for looking like that?
You'd expect him to like the Flaming Lips,
The Clash, Green Day, or at least the Misfits,
But he prefers the way ol' Hank did it ....
Yodel-a-he-who, Yodel-a-he-who, Yodel-a-he.
Yodel-a-he, Yodel-a-he, yay-e-he!

Well, I guess these insults been kinda' stiff,
I prob'ly should ease up so ya don't get miffed,
'cause after all, look who you're stuck with .....

Yodel-a-he-who, Yodel-a-he-who, Yodel-a-he!!!!!

Happy Friend of the Day day, Nature Boy! Yeehaw!

Across the world and down the block with Abraham

"In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have obeyed My voice." (Genesis 22:18)

Mankind fell from grace in the Garden, and God embarked on a plan to lift us back into His presence. The story has spanned several millennia -- the blink of an eye for Him. About four thousand years ago, God chose a faithful man named Abraham, and promised that all nations would be blessed through his seed. This seed was Christ (Gal. 3:16), who redeemed us through His sacrifice (Gal. 3:13-14), brought us into His body (1 Cor. 12:12-27),and sent us to all nations (Mattt. 28:19). All these years later, God is still keeping His promise to bless the nations through the seed of Abraham, the Body of Christ. Abraham's true children, the faithful, carry the power of the gospel to those in need as they let God add their own chapters to the story of the ages. Consider those who take God's love to the downtrodden in Louisville through ministries like the Jefferson Street Baptist Shelter and the Temple of Faith Family Life Center. Think of the many Christians who have taken part in the recent Tsunami relief effort. Remember the blessed feeling you received when you carried the gospel to a foreign land, an inner city, an office next to yours, or a front porch down the block ... or when you've helped someone else spread God's mercy through your prayers, encouragement, or monetary donation.We do these things because we are thankful for our salvation. We do these things because we want everyone to share this experience.We do these things, and our personal story intersects with God's grand design. A chapter is added, a page turned, and we come closer to the day when we enter heaven and see our own name, there in theBook of Life.

7 Therefore, be sure that it is those who are of faith who are sons of Abraham.8 The Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, "ALL THE NATIONS WILL BE BLESSED IN YOU."9 So then those who are of faith are blessed with Abraham, the believer. (Galatians 3:7-9)

Lyric Analysis: Elvis Costello's (Everyday) I Write The Book

LET'S DO THIS:

Everyday I write the book - Elvis Costello and the Attractions

Don't tell me you don't know what love is
When you're old enough to know better
When you find strange hands in your sweater
When your dreamboat turns out to be a footnote
I'm a man with a mission in two or three editions

And I'm giving you a longing look
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book

Chapter One we didn't really get along
Chapter Two I think I fell in love with you
You said you'd stand by me in the middle of Chapter Three
But you were up to your old tricks in Chapters Four, Five and Six

And I'm giving you a longing look
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book

The way you walk
The way you talk, and try to kiss me, and laugh
In four or five paragraphs
All your compliments and your cutting remarks
Are captured here in my quotation marks

And I'm giving you a long look
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book

Don't tell me you don't know the difference
Between a lover and a fighter
With my pen and my electric typewriter
Even in a perfect world where everyone was equal
I'd still own the film rights and be working on the sequel

And I'm giving you a long look,
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book.

First let's look at the complex rhyme scheme. Costello shows us how to work outside the box of standard ABAB or AABB writing. The chorus is only two lines, AA (they rhyme with each other). By keeping it so short, it has enabled him to write more verses, yet he can still insert the chorus between each verse, hammering home his theme.

The first verse is ABBCD. But although only the second and third lines rhyme (BB) we get internal rhymes in lines four ("dreamboat/ footnote") and five ("mission/ editions").
The second verse has one less line than the others -- perhaps it could be called a bridge (although bridges usually occur toward song's end). No line rhymes with another, so we can say that the end rhyme scheme is ABCD. Costello isn't eschewing rhymes, though -- he provides an internal rhyme within each of the four lines.
The third and fourth verses are both ABBCC, slightly different from the first verse. In the third verse, we have another kind of internal rhyme: the last word of the first line ("walk") rhymes with a word in the middle of the second ("talk").

What we can take from all of this is the knowledge that songwriters are not so limited with rhyme choices as would appear. You have more choices than 1. rhyming at the end of each line, and 2. no rhymes. You can always forego end rhymes while still getting the qualities that rhyme brings by providing internal rhymes.

This is not a masterpiece -- it's gimmicky, and Costello would admit that. But it's a very good song, one that has been covered by many artists (I am most familiar with mandolin king Sam Bush's version). Tons of songs provide the same theme: someone is claiming to be the love of another person's life, even if the other has eyes for a lesser rival, or is in some way overlooking their true soulmate. But no one has said it quite like Costello in this little ditty.

So many clever lines:

"When your dreamboat turns out to be a footnote
I'm a man with a mission in two or three editions"

Of course we've all been there (if you haven't, you're lucky or very young and inexperienced). We know how much love is in our heart, how much we care, how much we can give or perhaps have given. But the object of our desire has eyes for another, a "dreamboat," although that dreamboat is no more than a "footnote," a person of inconsequence who cannot match our devotion. Perhaps it is someone who is less of a spiritual match or has less in common with our beloved, but they look better, or drive a nicer car, or any number of superficial things. Costello captures all of this in one clever metaphor. He does much the same in the last verse:

Even in a perfect world where everyone was equal
I'd still own the film rights and be working on the sequel

How delightful! And how tragically true it often is in human relationships. We choose a blob of insignificance that comes in a pretty package over someone who could be the whole she-bang to us.

So what seemed to be a little gimmicky song turns out to offer some profound truths about the human condition. This is why Costello is an Artist Who Matters.

Over the next several weeks, expect to see columns about several Dylan songs, and even a couple Willie Nelson's, in preparation for the big Louisville show by the old masters in June. Ta-ta for now.

Blessings On The Faithful

This is the column where I bless those of you who regularly comment -- you Monkey Maniacs.

Jason R: May the good Lord give you a woman. May she not figure out that you're crazy. May you live in happiness with her, never being tempted to the right or to the left when you're cruising the aisles of Home Depot. May God preserve your fingers so you can continue typing.

Christa: May you never, never again post something as gross as the "reason why you shouldn't do internet dating." But may you tell me if you do, since I am drawn to gross things with a macabre fascination. May you be doubly blessed since you just gave me reason to use one of my favorite words, "macabre." May you continue to produce, and love, poetry and music.

Will: May you never actually have a seizure, which would be painfully ironic since your salutation is "Seizure later." May you find peace in your old age with Twana, and may people not think she is your daughter. And may you help me bring to justice those who stole my rabbit and tiger. Nightriders -- long may they reign!

Sarah: May you post for often, and may you not write French words when you do. May you and your son prosper, as you continue to rise further and further away from the ashes of the dreadful place you've been (which place I too know well).

E Machine: May you not regret for the rest of your life that you made other plans on the day that Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson came to Louisville -- perhaps for the last time? Who knows? May you continue to be cool beyond your years, and strong in the faith.

Brian: May heaven for you be a place of cows and puns, a place where you can milk a good joke for all it's worth, and the saints will laugh along in all the right places. Meanwhile, here on earth, may anyone who has a beef with you be turned from their wrath.

Cheryl: May you stay forever random. May you not be devoured my geese. Indeed, may you learn to live in peace with the geese, and may this peace be seen by all as a shining example of how the Lord prepares a table for the faithful in the midst of their enemies. May you continue to be affable and welcoming, so that more and more are drawn into the family through you.

Nikki: When Patty Griffin writes her memoirs, may she ask you to contribue the forward. May you continue to grow as a performer, a writer, and a person. May you not be e-stalked through your blog. May you continue your meaningful contribution to the Church, wherever the wind takes you.

Dr. Tom: May the Happy Haiku Fairy continue to sprinkle her magic dust upon your brow. May you find an elixir to bring you peace and contentment. May you continue to advance the cause of beauty through your photography, and may you find answers to your questions. Also, may you find the job you're looking for.

Joel The Metro: May you not be dealt with, ever so severely, by the Lord of Hosts for kidnapping my stuffed animals and holding them ransom for 1.5 million dollars, which I have not been able to muster SINCE NOT ONE FREAKING MONKEY MANIAC has helped me raise the funds. May you not grow a nose a half-mile long since you continue to deny this crime. May you and your wife share many years of blessed contentment, and may you produce great art. Nightriders -- long may they reign!

Lorie: May you find love and not be too dense to recognize it. May words, correctly spelled words, always surround and enfold you ... words in English, Portuguese, Farsi, Spanish, etc., etc. May your love of language, justice, and truth be a blessing to those 'round about you. May you never have a shortage of grammatical errors to correct, as this will keep you sharp and keep others afraid of you. To be both feared and loved -- this is your lot. May you continue to be awesome but not let it go to your head. May Kenny G play at your wedding, and may all the guests adore you so much that they stay anyway.

Now, to you birds who check this forum out but don't comment: don't you wish you did? Because then you, too, would have received a blessing from B-Dog. But there will be other times ....

gathering 'round, young women, and i will tell ....

I had a "catching up" conversation with a young, single girl I used to work with today. Seeing as she knows I am wise, wise, wise -- a veritable cesspool of information, if you will, she asked me for some relationship advice.
Specifically, she wanted to know how to let a certain young suitor know that she isn't interested.
So I told her. I gave her a sure-fire way to do it. Here comes the amazing part: she said, "But that's what I do when I like a guy!"
I said, "I think I may know why you're still single, then."

Here is my advice. If you gals will do this when you want to discourage someone from courting you, and refrain from doing this to guys whom you are interested in, then you will be a step ahead of many women in this country -- because frankly, my incredulous friend was not the first woman I've known to make this mistake.

B-Dog's Rule Is: to subtly let a guy know that you're not interested in him as a boyfriend, tell him that he should ask a certain girl out. Or tell him that you think he'd be right for a certain girl, or you wonder why he doesn't give a certain girl a shot. This will clue him in on the fact that you don't want him for yourself, that you want more of a brother/ sister kind of thing.

Now, if you're like my dizzy-headed young friend, you're probably thinking, "But I've done that with guys that I'm interested in, because it's part of the game." My silly pal said that she tries to read a guy's face when she makes such a comment, to see if he's interested in her. I said, "That's like going into a Paris restaurant and telling your dinner companion 'I'm going to order in Japanese to see if the waiter will give me what I want.'"

Will he? No, our hapless waiter will say "Come again?" Only he'll say it in French of course, rather than English. Certainly not Japanese. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you single girls. Remember, men think with their heads more than their hearts. Now, we may have dumb heads, but we still think with them. And if you try silly little tactics that don't make rational sense, you will overload our brains and we will crash. Our only thought will be, "She's not interested."

Now, perhaps you have tried this tactic on a guy, and he STILL asked you out. There's a reason for this. He's a weirdo. And sorry, but I can't give you any advice on dissuading weirdos. You just have to be blunt and resolute.

If perhaps you are like my silly friend, and you have tried this tactic on a guy you WANTED to go out with, and it worked, congratulations. You tried a nonsensical battle tactic, and you got yourself a weirdo. You should be very proud. But remember, a man who likes to play dating "games" will always like games ... and once you're married, this behavious will, at best, be a constant irritation to you. At worst ... well, make sure you have a good support system, ladies.

So, to recap: if you want to dissuade a guy from asking you out, suggest he go out with a mutual acquantance. That will do the trick, unless he's a weirdo.

If you would like to go out with a guy, under no circumstance should you "talk up" any other ladies. We're dumber than you. You'll confuse us, and we'll have to wander off into the woods and kill a deer or make some cave drawings or something. If by any chance you would like to go out with a guy, and you try this tactic, and it works, then pat yourself on the back for having used your feminine wiles to trap a nitwit. Hope that you too are a nitwit, so you'll never figure out what you stuck yourself with.

Toodle-ee-oo for now, ladies. Always remember, for the bottom-line advice that you won't get anywhere else, B-Dog is your hook up.

Lyric Review: Tomorrow Is A Long Time

This week we look at another Bob Dylan song -- one that has been recorded by artists from Elvis Presley to Judy Collins. I've been jamming to Dylan's Greatest Hits 2 lately (the collection that he edited himself -- vastly superior to Greatest Hits 1 and 3). It's chock full of wonderful songs, not the least of which is "Tomorrow Is A Long Time," a gentle, haunting tune with only Dylan's vocals and finger-picked guitar. Notice the fresh way he comes up with a song that says what so many others say, "I feel lonesome because I miss my true love." Here are the lyrics:

If today was not an endless highway,
If tonight was not a crooked trail,
If tomorrow wasn't such a long time,
Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
And if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me, Then I'd lie in my bed once again.

I can't see my reflection in the water,
I can't speak the sounds that show no pain,
I can't hear the echo of my footsteps,
Or remember the sound of my own name.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin'
And if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me, Then I'd lie in my bed once again.

There's beauty in the silver, singin' river,
There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky,
But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty
That I remember in my true love's eyes.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
And if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me,Then I'd lie in my bed once again.

c. Bob Dylan

Dylan is not concerned with end rhymes here -- sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't ... and we hardly notice. This is because the poem (that's what this is -- a poem with music) ripples with internal rhyme, assonance, consonance, alliteration. For instance, look at some of the examples of alliteration (words that begin with the same consonant): "silver singin' river, sunshine in the sky," "see my reflection ... speak the sounds that show ..." "hear her heart," and "none of these and nothing".
Of course, the average listener doesn't say, "Cool -- he's using alliteration." He just knows that the song "sings" for some reason.
While we're on the subject of poetry, it's interesting to note that Dylan likely borrowed from an anonymous 15th century English poem that existed orally, like a folk song, for most of its history, but which was widely anthologized in Dylan's formative years, entitled "Western Wind," or sometimes "The Lover In Winter Plaineth For The Spring." The poem ends:

Christ, if my love were in my arms / And I in my bed again.

while Dylan ends each of his three verses with:

Only if she was lyin' by me, Then I'd lie in my bed once again.

Notice that each verse shades the theme with a slightly different color. A common mistake of amateur songwriters is to have verses that say the same thing, though they use different words. Dylan's overall theme of longing and loss is covered successively with these three colors:

1. I wouldn't feel so lonely if I had hope that this feeling wouldn't burn on and on.
2. I don't know who I am anymore, or how to find myself.
3. My lost love's beauty is unsurpassed.

Three different shades, each dovetailing into his main theme like a seemless tunic. Learn from it, writers. In fact, if you are a creative writer, I would challenge you to use this song as an exercise. Pick a theme. Then think of three subthemes. It doesn't matter if you're writing a song, a poem, or three flash fiction narratives (basically just three paragraphs, to keep it simple).
Let's say you choose to write three paragraphs. State your main theme in one or two sentences of each paragraph. Then devote two or three sentences to a subtheme or a rational for your main theme. Stay focused on your main theme, yet take care not to let each paragraph parrot the others. Have fun with it, but stretch yourself. And who knows -- when you're done, you may have the bare material for a serious literary or musical work.

What's Ahead

Tomorrow look for a new lyrics analysis on Elvis Costello's "(Every Day) I Write The Book."

Later this week, you people are in for a real treat. I will be bringing back the Old Testament custome of BLESSING PEOPLE. I will bestow special blessings on all the Jive To The Monkey regular commentators. You folks have already benefitted so much from the Jive show, but now you will benefit even more.

Just think of the world-wide exposure you've been granted -- why, you've become house-hold names. All of America, for instance, knows Joel The Metro to be a rabbit-and-tiger thief. And people are busting out with "Seizure Later" everywhere from the city streets to rural farms, in imitation of good ol' boy Will Wyman. Nikki Tatom is soon to become more famous than her hero, Patty Griffin, and of course, while only a smattering of people know of "Tom Branch," the masses adore "Dr. Tom."

Then you take a real nobody like Lorie King. A nothing, before she stumbled onto Jive To The Monkey. And now she's a Grammarian Sensation. Of course, she failed to provide the expected psycho-analysis of my nickname, but millions of school children still hone their spelling skills every day, in the hopes that they can be like King.

And we can't leave out Cheryl Rupp, whose randomness has become legendary. Every day, more and more people are finding shoes, wondering "Could this be the latest pair that Cheryl lost?" And Jason "The Damage" Ramage, "The E Machine," "Gamesmaster" Brian Laffin ... what a colorful cast of characters. All in store for special Jive To The Monkey blessings.

Look for it right here, your one-stop blessing shop. Tell all your friends. This is gonna be so jive!

Our Place In The Story

And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a publicspectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross. (Col 2:15)

The recent blockbuster Lord of the Rings: Return of the King left out the final scene from the book version. In the book, the hobbits return home to the Shire, as they do in the movie --triumphant. The ultimate battle between good and evil has ended, and good has prevailed. The righteous and true king has defeated evil and routed the armies of death. Peace has enveloped the land.
Here's where the movie departs from novel: as the hobbit heroes enter the Shire, they find that the hobbits back home are unaware of the victory.The vile wizard Saruman, driven out of his castle during the battle, has taken refuge in the Shire. He has assumed control of the humble village, aided by petty thiefs and bullies. So the returning heroes, aided by the knowledge that the True Victory has already been won, retake their Shire and corner Saruman. He tries one final time to scare the righteous into submission:" ... do not think that when I lost all my goods I lost all my power! Whoever strikes me shall be accursed. And if my blood stains the Shire, it shall wither and never again be healed."
Of course, he is bluffing. When he dies, the Shire is free.
Despite access to the Bible, we often act like ignorant hobbits, cowering in fear of an enemy whom our King has vanquished. TheGospels declare that Christ entered history to battle the devil. The pages of the New Testament are filled with accounts of such skirmishes, always won by Christ and His apostles. Jesus consistently displayed His power over death, disease, and demon possesion, then delivered the mortal blow at Calvary.
Satan's only real power comes if we let him blind us to thereality of his defeat (the Gospels) and the inevitable outcome ofthat defeat (Revelation). Let's keep reminding each other, and telling others, this Good News. The war is over; evil is defeated. Our enemy is mortally wounded. Every Christian who dies is initiated into an immortal army whose leader sits on a white horse, ready to free the Shire called Earth from the desperate last grasp of an enemy who knows his days are numbered.

Therefore, since the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise also partook of the same, that through death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, (Heb. 2:14)

Psychoanalysis of Nickname "Love Caddy B-Dog, The Forlorn Moonpuppy

So as I see it, here is the hidden meaning that my subconscious imparted in choosing this nickname (see previous post, people):

Love Caddy: Well, a golf caddy is someone who carries golf junk, right? So I carry love. Love to you folks, all my Monkey Maniacs. Yes, I am the Caddy of Love.

B-Dog: Because I am B-Dog. I just am. I am and you can't say I'm not because I can be who I wanna be.

Forlorn: From the dictionary: "Forlorn: lonely and sad; forsaken." Been there; done that. Actually, my picture was next to the entry (yes, the one with the goofball hat). But I am a chipper forlorn. Not a morose forlorn. So very chipper. As befitting my superhero status.

Moon: Because I am a poet, and a romantic. Everyone knows we romantic poets love the moon. Also, I may be a werewolf. I don't know. I keep waking up with wolf hair all over my bed. From "The Wolf Man" starring Lon Chaney, Jr.:
"Even a man who is pure in heart,
and says his prayers by night,
May become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms
and the full moon is bright."

Puppy: See, that goes back to the whole "B-Dog" thing. Because "Dog" speaks to the fact that I am a man, whereas "puppy" testifies of my boyish playfullness. A man-boy. Or, as Muddy Waters sang it, "Mannish Boy."

There you go, people. Love Caddy B-Dog, The Forlorn Moonpuppy, your hero. But remember, since we are pals, you can just call me "B-Dog".

Love Caddy B-Dog

There will be no lyric review today, because I'm kinda tired. But I did want to check in with all my Monkey Maniacs and give you guys the down low on a couple of things.

1. Response to last week's request to raise 1.5 million for Rabby and Tigey's ransom has been, thus far, underwhelming. Please step up your contributions, people. Two stuffed lives are at stake. And yes, Joel The Metro is still denying everything. So is his devilish wife. And Stacey is still a dogcheese, but an innocent dogcheese who didn't deserve to be framed.

2. Many of you are not using my proper nickname, "B-Dog". A couple of you are calling me "Boobie." "Robert" has spread from one to two people, but they are love birds so I guess it's to be expected. And one wee sicko dared call me "B-Pup".
Perhaps "B-Dog" will become more real to you if I can give you a full version of the nickname. Not that you need call me it every time. "B-Dog" will suffice for casual conversation. But be it now and forevermore known that henceforth, forthwith, pronto, and on-the-double, I Bobby Gilles declare myself to be Love Caddy B-Dog, The Forlorn Moonpuppy.
You might want to write the full name out on a post-it and keep it on your fridge until saying it becomes second nature.

That is all. Good day.

To Tell The Old, Old Story

... and there arose another generation after them who did not know theLORD, nor yet the work which He had done for Israel.Judges 2:10b

A lady I used to work with, Darla, lost her father the Thursday beforeEaster of 2004. I talked with another coworker, Sarah, about it the next day. Sarah is a 25 year old, unchurched woman with the postmodern outlook one would expect from such a person. She said, "Can you imagine? Easter is probably going to be ruined forever for Darla because of this."I reminded her that Darla is a Christian, so in the years to come, the proximity of her father's death to Easter will probably be a comfort to her.

Sarah, who thinks of Easter as the bunny & chocolate holiday, had no idea why, so of course I explained it to her. I discovered along the way that she had no idea Christians claim that Jesus rose bodily from the dead (she assumed he went to heaven "the regular way,"), that the Sanhedrin couldn't find the body so they claimed the disciples stole it ("so it's like a mystery!" she said), and she was confused as to how Bible characters related to each other. She asked where Moses was while all this "Passion stuff" was going on, and about where Adam, Eve, and Noah came in.

To those of us raised in a church environment, this kind ofBiblical illiteracy seems stunning, but Sarah is in many ways representative of millions of people from emerging generations.They've grown up in a world that has lost its sense of Story -- the Grand Story, the Story of God and man. Their parents and grandparents rejected the idea that life has meaning (throwing out "plot") and that the meaning is determined by our Creator(throwing out the Storyteller).

Now, if they have any positive thoughts on the Bible at all, it is of an anthology of disjointed episodes without a larger context, a collection of "points to ponder", or a self-help manual ("Three easy steps to a whole-new-you") broken down into verse form for quick reference. But the Grand Story framework is gone, and with it, the ability to show them how their individual story intersects with God's Story, filling their previously plotless narratives with meaning. And little wonder that they don't want a Savior when they don't understand why they would need to be saved, or what they're being saved from.

As Christians, let's tell our Story every chance we get. Let's earn the right to tell it by the honesty of our lives, and when they ask, let's give it to them. Our lives are each a subplot in the universal story, and the journey of each Christian mirrors the Biblical story from Fall to redemption to mission, and, at last, to victory.Do many from emerging generations lack a sense of self-worth? Do they question "what's the point of it all?" Do they feel as if life has no purpose or meaning, that they have no special mission? Yes. Do they, and all humans, crave purpose, meaning, and a sense of mission? Yes again. And they can find it all in the old, old story....

"I love to tell the story, for some have never heard
The message of salvation from God's own Holy Word."

A Poem For You

So what do you think of this poem by Al Zoynas, entitled "Hat In The Sky"?

After the war,
after I was born,
my father's hobby
(perhaps his obsession)
was photography.
New fathers often become
photographers, it seems.
But he took pictures of many things
besides me,
as if he suddenly felt it all
slipping away
and wanted to hold it forever.
In one of the many shoe boxes
full of photographs
in my father's house,
one photo sticks in my mind,
a snapshot
of a black hat
in midair,
the kind of hat fashionable in the forties,
a fedora -- something
Bogie would wear.
Someone has thrown it
into the air --
perhaps my father himself,
perhaps someone in an exuberant moment
at a rally or gathering.
It's still there, hanging in the sky
as ordinary and impossible
as a painting by Magritte,
and it's impossible
how it wrenches my heart, somehow.
At odd moments in my life,
that hat appears to me
for no discernible reason.
-- Al Zoynas

Do you have any photos or mementos that create that sort of emotion in you, even if there doesn't seem to be a reason for it?

Joke's On Me As Rabby, Tigey Kidnapped on April Fools' Day

This is real. No imaginary interview; no faux wrestling match. What I'm about to relate is a fact with my hand up, if I had to die. Be prepared to read something so vile, so heinous, that it could only be the work of one Joel The Metro Anderson. And his little wife, too.

THE BACKSTORY

Last year, my pinhead sister Stacey Schneider and I played a joke on the Andersons. Stacey and I work for a law firm. We used a legal notice template to send them a "court order" to answer for the charge of unlawfully altering their house without a permit (they were doing some remodeling).

As an aside: we also sent a "court order" to our friends Barry and Debbie, demanding they answer for the charge of unlawfully running a barbershop out of their home. Debbie cuts Barry's hair IN THEIR BACKYARD! Now, lots of wives cut their husband's hair, but usually that kind of thing goes on behind closed doors. Sheesh!

Anyway, Joel has kept our little notice on his refrigerator for a solid year, and has, on several occasions, made reference to a "Day of Reckoning." MonkeyManiacs, that day has arrived for your hero.

I came home from a hard day's work last Friday, April Fools' Day, to find a manilla envelope at my door with the name "Robert" on it. Not written -- each letter was cut out from a different magazine and pasted onto the envelope. Inside was a ransom notice, saying that Rabby and Tigey had been kidnapped, and could be returned for 1.5 million dollars! AND -- ooooohhhhhh, you're not gonna believe this. Remember when I told you that Rabby's body was covered in masking tape, so that he looks kind of like a gruesome mummy? Well, these cads stuck 2 pieces of his tape on the ransom note!!!

I ran to my closet, where Rabby and Tigey live. Gone.

The next day, I got another manila envelope. Inside -- a whole roll of pictures! Rabby and Tigey, lying there. Sick, sick, sick.

I should point out that the pictures were taken at Stacey's house, and that she's the only one who calls me "Robert." So obviously, the evil Anderson's are trying to frame Stacey. They didn't do any pranks on her, to make it look like they're innocent! They want us to devour each other!!!

Well, that's not gonna happen, because in the first place, my great brain knows that this is the kind of thing that Joel would do, not Stacey. In the second place, Stacey knows better than to mess with me because I am B-Dog, whereas she is nothing but a pinhead. Joel, however, is fearless (as crazy people often are).

The Andersons refuse to fess up. It looks like I have no recourse but to come up with $1.5 mil. So here's what I need all you Monkey Maniacs to do. Each of you send me some money. Whatever you have, even if it's only a dollar. Hey -- if 1.5 million Monkey Maniacs sent me a dollar apiece, I could raise this money in no time. Then, I could either pay the ransome or hire a hitman to take out Joel.

Here is my address, people. And please don't send me any cold checks:

Bobby Gilles

928 Capitol Hill Drive

Jeffersonville, IN 47130 USA

Try to send me your money as soon as possible, because I don't have a night light, and it's hard for me to fall asleep without Rabby and Tigey because it gets very dark at night in my room. And spread the word to as many people as possible. Spread it to other blogs, take it to the city streets ... whatever you need to do to make me an instant millionaire. Two very decrepit fake animals are counting on it.

Lyric Analysis: James Taylor's "Fire And Rain"

"Fire And Rain" established James Taylor as a star, and has since become a classic rock staple. Taylor wrote the song upon learning of the suicide of a friend. I mention this because you've probably heard the song so much it has become a caricature. Look at the lyrics again, from the author's standpoint, as a struggle to put emotions to pen.

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Susanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again,

The chorus has an ABBB rhyme scheme, while the verses (with slight variation) are ABAB.

A couple myths have surfaced about this song, due to misunderstanding of the lyrics:
In the first place, though the song was written as an emotional outpouring following the death of his friend, we should not read every line of the song as a reference to this death. The first verse and the rhyme refer to "Susanne," while other problems in Taylor's life take center stage in the second and third verses. Susanne is never far from the topic, though. Think of it this way: when one bad thing happens to you, it reminds you of everything else wrong in your life. You have no doubt experienced this many times yourself.
So then, the line about "flying machines on the ground" is not, as is commonly believed, a reference to her death (the rumor is that her plane crashed on the way to one of his concerts). "The Flying Machine" was the name of Taylor's band that had disbanded earlier, largely due to his drug problems. Susanne died of her own hand; a plane had nothing to do with it.
A related rumor is that Susanne was his girlfriend. "Girl friend," yes. "Girlfriend," no. But references to sweet dreams and flying machines on the ground are not wholly unrelated to his friend. He is thinking back to the conversations they used to have, and how he used to be able to tell his friend about his hopes and dreams, as well as his frustrations and failings. He is "walking my mind to an easy time," as he remembers the conversations they used to have, and how she made his burdens seem lighter. "Back towards the sun" could refer to his refusal to face this new day -- a day without his friend. The cold wind has made him turn away from this day, back to his "easy time" when he could spend "hours of time on the telephone" with his friend (I wonder if it would have been "the internet" if he'd written it in 2005, as opposed to 1969?).
"My body's aching and my time is at hand" from the second verse is a gem. He's been talking to Jesus, and of course the "my time is at hand" is borrowed from Christ. Taylor has said that he meant his time was at hand to deal with his problems (he'd already been through rehab several times) though the line also makes sense as a colorful way of saying "I feel like I could die, too," particularly since Christ's use of "my time is at hand" referred to his crucifixion.
Compare the poetry of the chorus to what most pop stars would churn out for a similar topic. I'd imagine most would write something like this:

Can't believe you're really gone
How can I face another day?
Still, in my heart, you will always live on,
So Susanne, just let me say,
That I miss you so much ... your warm gentle touch,
And all the kinds things you would say --
Goodbye. Goodbye, my friend.

Or some such nonsense. Songs like that come a dime a dozen, and are forgotten within a few years, even if they're sung by the current "it" girl or boy band. "Fire And Rain," because it uses colorful imagery and shuns cliche, is as poignant today as it was 46 years ago. And, as I often say of great songs, this one sings because of strong verbs, which do not need adverbs. For instance, "my body's aching" is better than "my body really hurts." Writers should read through their first drafts, circling all the adverbs. Then ask yourself if you need it -- most of the time you don't. It adds nothing. If it does add something, I'd bet it's because the verb itself is weak. Check it. Or ask James Taylor, who has a knack for such things ....


P.S. All you people who love good music, check out Nikki Tatom this Friday night in concert. Lorie King will be singing backup. For more info, check out Nikki's blog (from my links section) or visit www.nikkitatom.com

Enough Food?

I suck. It's "I" instead of "we" because I don't want to speak for you. But follow my story and see if you fit the bill.
I feel so inadequate. What am I doing? Late at night I look at the problems I face, compare them to the resources I have, and sigh. I'm supposed to fulfill the Great Commission? I can't even help myself!
Do you ever end up short on cash, while bills remain to be paid, charities remain to be helped, groceries, clothes, or textbooks remain to be bought?
Is the work piled on your desk, the dirty clothes piled in your laundry bin, and your "free time" pledged away for weeks in advance? Friends going through every catastrophe from bad dating experiences to the deaths of loved ones? Family members feeling neglected? Coworkers fighting depression? Fellow students losing focus? Do they all wish someone could fix it?
Can you fix it?
Okay, now I'll say it. You suck, too. And the thing is, you can't even encourage yourself out of the duldrums, let alone give spiritual manna to the hungry on your doorstep, your voicemail, or your Yahoo! Then you go to church and you hear about all the needs, all the opportunities to serve, all the ministerial positions that may go vacant if you don't give ... what? Your time? You have none. Your cash? What cash? Your skills? You're a regular Napoleon Dynamite.
Can we find a solution? And can it be found in something so modest as a story?
And as long as we're going there, we might as well choose an unbelievable one. One with a point that's easy to miss. Because what do you do when you can't see a way out? You throw caution to the wind:

Mark 6:34-44 34When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.
35By this time it was late in the day, so his disciples came to him. “This is a remote place,” they said, “and it's already very late. 36Send the people away so they can go to the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.”
37But he answered, “You give them something to eat.”
They said to him, “That would take eight months of a man's wages! Are we to go and spend that much on bread and give it to them to eat?”
38“How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.”
When they found out, they said, “Five–and two fish.”
39Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. 40So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties. 41Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to set before the people. He also divided the two fish among them all. 42They all ate and were satisfied, 43and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces of bread and fish. 44The number of the men who had eaten was five thousand.

We call it the story of the loaves and fishes. But Mark wants us to see the people, not the food.
The disciples know the score. They're in the hills and gulleys. "This is a lonely place and the hour is late. Let the hungry people fend for themselves in the villages." Reasonable.
Jesus has another idea. "You give them something to eat."
They're incredulous. "Sure Jesus. That'll take, what? Eight months wages? Do we look like we're made of money?"
I am so there. A needy world in front of me, and feelings of inadequacy within. So I whine to Jesus too. "Should I snap my fingers and voila! everyone's problems away, Jesus?" "Want me to cut myself into eight different pieces so there's enough of me to go around, Jesus?"
Christ doesn't send them out for supplies. He says, "Go see how many loaves you have." Ridiculous. What difference does it make? It won't be enough. And when the disciples come back, things seem even worse: "We have five loaves and two fish."
Okay, time for Jesus to take a reality check. And time for us (we who suck) to identify with the disciples. Here we sit, with our Wonderbread and our Gordon's fishsticks, facing a starving generation.
Jesus ignores the reality check because He is the reality. He tells the crowd to sit. He blesses the paltry lunch and divides the sandwiches like a good Jewish father. 10,000 eyes watch as His confused disciples begin to distribute.
We miss the point. "How did He do it?" we ask. We have no problem believing God created the entire universe, but we don't want to credit Him with the power to stretch a meal. Stretch it He does, and after everyone has loosened their belts and patted their bellies, there are twelve baskets of leftovers.
Mark's theme! The people are fed when Jesus blesses their meager resources. Paul understood. "I will all the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me ... for when I am weak, then I am strong."
When we put our little loaves and fishes to work ... it works. The underfunded, understaffed mission keeps chugging. Your hurting friend finds your words to be apples of gold, though you felt helpless when delivering them. You join the chain of generations, countless Christians stretching back to that original happy meal, those original weak, inadequate disciples who fed the crowd with Christ's blessing.
The world is hungry again, and it's our turn.
Our kids, or those young enough to be, are hungry. Our parents, or those old enough to be, are hungry. Our friends, or those who should be, are hungry. Our brothers and sisters in Christ, or those who could be, are hungry.
Jesus knows, better than we do, that our resources are threadbare. But He has blessed them. He has blessed them!
The world is hungry again. And it's our turn.
Let's give them something to eat.

WRESTLING BOUT POSTPONED! RABBY IN JAIL. JOEL THE METRO: "MY LIFE HAS BEEN SPARED"

Special notice to all my Monkey Maniacs:

Today's planned wrestling match between Rabby the Were-Bunny and Joel "The Metro" Anderson has been postponed. Last night, during a daring bust, Indiana State Police arrested Rabby for running an illegal Stuffed Tiger Racetrack and Casino operation. Allegedly, the races were fixed -- all stuffed tigers were doped up on crack cocaine except for Rabby's partner in crime: one "Tigey" the stuffed bengal tiger.

"I'll beat this rap in no time," said Rabby. "And when I do, I'll have Mr. Anderson screaming like a little fairy."

"Whew, that was a close one," Anderson told reporters. "I feel like I have a new lease on life. I just hope that deranged rabbit gets locked away for life."

Stay tuned to Jive To The Monkey for further details.