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Good Friday, Easter Sunday…What Did Jesus Do on Saturday?

Good Friday, Easter Sunday…What Did Jesus Do on Saturday?

On Good Friday Jesus was crucified.

On Easter Sunday he was resurrected.

So what did Jesus do on Saturday?

That question was posed at my house as we celebrated on Easter Sunday.

 

I heard a story recently about a local physician who every year on Good Friday, instead of the typical white lab coat look he normally wears, will put on a dark suit instead.  His patients, used to him looking medical like, would ask why he was wearing a suit, are you going to a wedding or going to a funeral?

“A funeral” he would answer.

“Well who died?”

“Jesus.”

This was his way of reminding people.

Kim and I went to church on Good Friday.  The service is always moving and somber.  It is, well, like a funeral.

 

When I was a kid growing up in New Jersey I didn’t go to church on Good Friday, only on Easter Sunday. After church, my parents would pack us all into the Corvair and we would make the drive north through Little Silver and Red Bank to the McDonald’s in Middletown.  This was one of the few times we would go out to eat at any restaurant so it was a real event.  Our Easter dinner would be hamburgers or cheeseburgers, French fries, and milk shakes because that is all they served back then.  You just drove up, parked, walked up to the window and got your food and ate it in the car.  No indoor playrooms or sitting at a table.  It was great.

Easter was also, other than maybe Christmas or the start of the new school year, one of the few times we got new clothes.  My sister would get a frilly dress and the rest of us little suits and maybe a hat.

In our new clothes, we would visit with the extended family and that was about it,  but it was always a nice day.

Easter traditions change.  The suits and hats are now replaced by Hawaiian shirts and khakis.  There is nothing really special about McDonald’s anymore so thankfully home cooking is a better option.  And they don’t make Corvairs anymore, maybe we should be thankful for that too.

 

I got up this past Saturday morning and did the usual; I paid a couple of bills and ran some errands.  Like other holidays, now that the kids are older, they have their own obligations so I was expecting to see them and feed them more in shifts this year and had to plan accordingly.

In the afternoon we did what we have always done this time of the year for the last almost 15 years, we took our dirt and our tools and some potted flowers and went up to the cemetery to plant new at Donny’s grave site.  Cameron helped this year getting the water and unloading the truck.

 

We cooked dinner on grill and then sat outside on the patio.   When it got a little later we put Cameron to bed.  Kim always says prayers with Cameron before bed and on this evening he thanked God for the nice day and for planting flowers for Uncle Donny.

He made a comment to Kim that Uncle Donny was “as tall as the world” or “taller than the world” and when she asked him to explain he just said that Uncle Donny “was in Heaven with Jesus.”

“Cameron how do you know that?” she asked.

“I just know” he said.

 

Church on Sunday was awesome.  To our surprise we had the whole local family with us at church and we filled a pew.  The preacher’s sermon was great.

Who will roll away the stone?  The question asked by Mary and Mary in Mark 16 verse 3 on their way to the tomb early on that Sunday morning.

The stone.

The stone of great weight blocking their way to Jesus in the tomb.

In our sermon the preacher explained that the stone represented all those hard times in our lives.  Those times of tragedy, divorce, loss of a job, an unexpected diagnosis.  All things tough.

It spoke to all of those sitting in my pew.

Just as I am sure it spoke to all of those in the pews surrounding me.

We all have had those stones.  Some have been heavier and harder to move than others. Many we still feel the weight of.

Sometimes we even plant flowers around them.

 

What did Jesus do on Saturday?

Maybe it was meant to be that way, to have that day in between.

Maybe Jesus, like us, needed a day of contemplation.

A day of reflection.

Maybe he was focusing on the weight of that stone and what was to be.

Maybe he was even starting to move that stone, as the world and life beyond it became clearer.

I think so.

How do I know?

“I just know.”

 

One of our heavier stones on the Saturday before Easter
March Comes in Like a Meatball and Out Like a Clam

March Comes in Like a Meatball and Out Like a Clam

It was Cancun in January but that didn’t matter, it was still blazing hot. Kim and I were staying at one of those “all inclusive” joints.

We met another couple from New Jersey.  The woman claimed to be a mafia princess, the daughter of someone connected. I don’t remember their last name but their first names I couldn’t forget because they were straight out of Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On A Prayer, Gina and Tommy.  And Tommy even worked on the docks.

One particular “all inclusive” evening I got into a debate with Gina, that at one point was as heated as the mid-afternoon Cancun sand.

I couldn’t convince her that mine were better.  But why did I want to?  Why take that chance?

Be careful, I thought, it’s not worth it.

So what if she uses cubes of Italian bread and I use Italian bread crumbs.

Who cares!

There was no need to settle this score.

They were just meatballs.

I know this week the world recognized International Women’s Day, but I must admit I hadn’t kept current on the events of the day or this movement.  Even my radical, activist, middle daughter Hayley hadn’t filled me in on the agenda.  With all due respect for the efforts of women around the world and in my family, ever since the weekend I had been focused on only one national event.   Last Saturday I went to the grocery store and while scanning the weekly circular I saw this reminder:

March 9th is National Meatball Day!

Meatballs.

Next to French Bread, meatballs may be my second favorite food.

And you put the meatballs on the French Bread and…

Marone…

It doesn’t get any better than that!

But what does one do on National Meatball Day?  What is the agenda?

I suppose we could share meatball stories…

Okay I did that already with the best one I could come up with.

And what else?

Make meatballs right? So I did.

 

Intrigued by the thought of a National Meatball Day, I did some research and found out March 9th is also National Crab Meat Day, and National Get Over It Day.

And, already this month we missed:

National Dadgum That’s Good Day on March 1.

National Banana Cream Pie Day on March 2.

March 3 was National Tartar Sauce Day.

And National Cheese Doodle Day was on March 5.

And, according to my research:

March 15th celebrates Everything You Think Is Wrong Day, a day where decision making should be avoided, as your thoughts are wrong.

March 16th is just the opposite as it is National Everything You Do is Right Day.  You get to feel good about everything that you do (I probably associate more with the day before).

March 18 is National Awkward Moments Day (I am familiar with this one too).

March 21 is National French Bread Day  (I might have to make meatballs again!)

March 30 National I am in Control Day.

And last but not least, March 31 is National Clams on the Half Shell Day!

 

International Women’s Day posed the question what would life be like without a women?

A Day without a woman?

I can’t imagine my life without my four women in it… life without my wife.  So I will let Bon Jovi and Gina and Tommy take it home…

we’ve got to hold on to what we’ve got
‘Cause it doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not
We’ve got each other and that’s a lot for love
We’ll give it a shot  ( from Livin’ On A Prayer, written by Jon Bon Jovi / Desmond Child / Richard S. Sambora)

 

Okay, now it’s getting late.

And I’m tired…and this meatball has got to go to bed.

And besides, tomorrow I have to get up early, its National Pack Your Lunch Day.

 

Meatballs!

 

 

Tubas and Saxophones, The Dave Clark Five, and I Love You

Tubas and Saxophones, The Dave Clark Five, and I Love You

My first saxophone, circa 1965, but it was already old when i got it.

It was The Dave Clark Five in the early sixties that caused a young “want to be” rock star at seven or eight years old to begin to fantasize about playing the saxophone one day in a band.

Our grandson Cameron,  age six, asked Santa for a tuba for Christmas.

A tuba.

We don’t know why he wanted a tuba for Christmas.  Not that there is anything wrong with that or the tuba,  I just can’t think of any cool current bands with a tuba player.

Our ritual for putting Cameron to sleep includes Kim and me each individually going in to visit him to say goodnight. The other night while I was in saying good night to Cameron, he asked me:

“Pop Pop, why didn’t Santa bring me a tuba?”

“I don’t know,” I said.  “Maybe he wants you to first learn to play your guitar, your drums, your harmonica, and your piano.  Then it will be easier for you to learn how to play the tuba.”

So because of the Dave Clark Five, when I turned nine years old and was able to start the music program in grammar school (sorry that is elementary school for those of you who aren’t from Jersey),  I got my first saxophone.    I was in the fourth grade and played it until I was in the seventh grade.

When I was twelve I got my first harmonica.

When I was sixteen or seventeen I put my first guitar on lay-away at Jack’s Music Shop in Red Bank New Jersey.

I now have six guitars, a number that equals the number of chords I know how to play on those guitars. I have two saxophones, and I have about twenty harmonicas.

Though I have a deep love of music I think my self-diagnosed attention deficit disorder never allowed me to master any one of those instruments beyond the point of just being able to have fun.

Last night, while listening to some music, I started thinking about Cameron and his tuba.

Then I started thinking about me and my musical instruments.

So naturally that led to the thought that I had to write something about all this.  Next, I remembered I had once written something that I thought at the time was really cool, that might fit somewhere in this developing concept.

So I started searching my spiral notebooks,  and then my computer files,  but I never did find those really cool words I once wrote that I thought would be so fitting.  Though it was definitely way cooler than this,  what I wrote back then had a similar theme to this:

I don’t know why I never learned to play harp like Delbert.

And I don’t know why I never played saxophone like Clarence.

Or learned to play the guitar like Bruce, or sing like Richie Furay, or write songs like Hiatt.

 

And I don’t know now what any of this has to do with anything…except maybe confirming my ADD tendencies.

But there was something else.

Because while I was searching for those really cool lyrics that were never found, I did find this:

My Mom Often tells me

By Donny

 

My mom often tells me, I love you.

When I am in the most miserable mood ever, and my mom is yelling I still know all of this yelling will later be followed by I love you. 

This saying reassures me that everything will always be alright.  It lets me know that somebody cares for you.  This saying makes you feel like everything I’m doing is fine and I should keep up the good work.  I don’t understand why when my mom says I love you, it means a lot more than when anybody else on earth says it, I love my mom.  She is my mentor, my friend, and someone I look up to.  I couldn’t ask for a better mom.  I thank God for blessing me with a gift like this

 

I don’t know why Santa didn’t bring Cameron a tuba.

And I will never know why God took Donny away from us either.

But I am happy that I found this essay of Donny’s since Monday is Donny’s birthday and sometimes we just need to get these messages.

A message that “reassures me that everything will always be alright.” 

So happy birthday Donny!

I can assure you that your mother still loves you.

And that everything will be alright.

Oh…and tell somebody that you love them, it means something.

Donny and cousin Josh

 

 

Bucket List

Bucket List

 

Blind Lemon Jello
Blind Lemon Jello
  1. Happy marriage…check
  2. Half Marathon….check
  3. Website and write…check
  4. Savannah’s Cod Fish and Hamburger Casserole…check
  5. Mission trip in Jamaica mountains…check

I mentioned a few week’s back that I played the harmonica.

I also mentioned in that same piece that I wasn’t particularly good at anything.

That particularly applies to playing the harmonica.

  1. Music video…check and check

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TVIiGLAcV8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWwxdxiyHUM

 

I had fun though.

Thanks Tom Fish and band

Crossing the Street

Crossing the Street

IMG_0655
See, not bad for 240 years. That’s my mother in the middle.

Again this week I heard a story on the radio about the deer herd posing a threat to our local society and the need to thin out the herd with sharpshooters. Also recently, Chris Core, a commentator on WTOP radio here in DC did a piece on the dangers of crossing the street making the point that we were too engrossed in our electronics and as a result, were getting hit by cars. Okay Curt so what is the connection you say?

I remembered a similar story and situation that occurred a few years ago with deer causing traffic accidents and pedestrians getting hit way too frequently, which at the time was also big news on WTOP radio. They decided to thin the deer herd then too. During this particular situation, the local service announcements were stressing that pedestrians in a crosswalk had the right of way and drivers beware. Of course we know that is true, but I thought maybe a little common sense might also be appropriate and at that time I wrote this:

Crossing the Street

I heard recently of a plan to thin out the deer herd in Rock Creek Park in Washington, DC by using sharp shooters. They were posing a danger to the community. The radio station was taking calls from listeners on how they felt about that.

I think the whole problem with the deer is really just that they don’t know how to cross the street. They keep jumping out in front of cars and causing accidents. This results in thousands of dollars’ worth of property damage to our motor vehicles, injury or death to humans who hit them, not to mention that it causes our car insurance rates to go up. Since it’s important that we build more strip malls and office parks, apartment complexes, and the roads to get to them, the deer have to learn to deal with that. Besides, there are more than enough wooded common areas, medians, cemeteries, and golf courses for deer to hang out in. Why do they need to be crossing the street anyway?

But the fact is we now have the same problem with humans. They don’t know how to cross the street either. And they keep getting hit too and causing property damage and emotional stress, injury and even death. But you don’t hear anyone proposing to thin out the human population with sharp shooters because they keep on jumping out in front of cars. No, unlike the deer, when a human steps out in front of a car, and by the way the local government encourages this as long as they are in a crosswalk, it’s the fault of the driver of the vehicle of course. Public service announcements have convinced humans they have the right of way and therefore it’s perfectly within their rights to step out in front of an oncoming car. And so they do.

I think the solution to the problem is education. We need to teach the deer and now humans how to cross the street. It’s that simple. And I know just the person to head this program……… my mother.

My mother successfully taught my two brothers, my sister, and I to cross the street without getting hit by a car. And collectively that is almost 240 man years without an incident of walking out in front of a car and being struck (and I won’t tell you who most of those man years are attributed to because she wouldn’t like it).

In addition to that, my mother has taught her Portuguese Water dog to sit down on the side of the road when she (the dog) hears a car coming. Think about it, now that is a solid resume’. Of course she is retired now and I don’t know if she would be willing to take on such a responsibility as this. But she is a conscientious woman, a patriot, and a lover of animals; plus she paid car insurance in New Jersey for years so I know she is sensitive to insurance rates.

Can you imagine if she was able to teach those humans that the local governments currently encourage stepping out into traffic, to actually stop at the side of the road and look both ways before crossing the street? What a gift this would be to society!

And how about if she was able to teach deer to sit down on the side of the road every time one of them heard a car coming? What a public service that would be!

I think some serious Economic Stimulation money needs to be set aside for this.

It’s just that simple.
All that is pretty silly right? But, I still have people stepping out in front of my truck without stopping or looking. And Chris Core had a good point too, we are distracted walkers as well as drivers.

As for the deer I don’t have a solution. At least they are feeding the homeless with the meat generated from the thinning of the herd.

Just be careful out there!