Sugar, Waffle, or Cake -- Hold the Bowl

It's self-discovery day at the Wise Dogs Blog! That is, for the human behind the blog.

I buy ice cream once in a while when the good stuff is on sale. Unlike the days of my deprived childhood, there are lots of great flavors available. My favorites are coffee and anything with caramel. But then the ice cream sits in the freezer until one of the guys eats it. I hardly ever eat ice cream, even if it's a flavor I've chosen. What's up with that? More in a moment.

There are a few television shows I can watch repeatedly, much to my family's dismay. I'm almost over my Red Green fixation, but Deadliest Catch is still going strong. The Learning Channel (great name for a network, eh?) has two series I especially enjoy because of how they reveal routine conflict within a family. Both Jon & Kate Plus Eight and Little People Big World happen to feature families who are Christian, but these parents have issues! Many episodes contain conversations of conflict, or narrated segments where the adults say what they really think about their spouse's traits. I'm fascinated by the vastly dissimilar personalities of these couples, and am always impressed by their acts of affection and devotion to one another. Despite their differences, they love each other. They say things out loud that I would never dream of saying, but the conflicts are rather momentary.

Occasionally, TLC has aired shows about exceptionally large families. They were interesting, but I don't recall seeing any conflict beyond getting the new house built before the clan had to vacate the old one. Important, urgent, but not curiosity-raising.

Here's where the ice cream comes into the picture. I finally realized that I am not interested in eating ice cream all by itself, in a bowl. But give me a sugar cone and I could go for a serving after every meal! It's all about the crunch and the softness -- the conflicting textures. Love isn't about unquestioning agreement, it's about commitment and different-ness. It's nice to see examples of love carried out in ways I can relate to, in situations that might be experienced in my home. Okay, not in my home, but one that I can imagine is a little like mine. Without the girls. Just the boys, ranged in age a bit. And handsome.

That calls for another ice cream cone. Pecan praline, on a sugar cone, because it's got caramel... and nuts. Because real life is crunchy and nutty.

About the Book, American Band

Blackie took me aside last night, very gently, and pointed out that yesterday's post contained next to nothing about the actual book that I had chosen to highlight. Dogs are alert to consistency and the keeping of promises, and she was sorry but had to reveal my error. Today, therefore, I will write a brief post about American Band.

Several years ago, my brother-in-law told me about a new book called Friday Night Lights. My small local library didn't have it yet, but they secured a copy for me through inter-library loan. What a great story! High school football in Texas, twenty thousand fans on a Friday night, personal drama, winning and losing -- it was all there. I loved that book. (Side note: I tried to listen to the book on CD a couple of years ago, in preparation for another football season, the foul language really put me off. I guess I can block it out when I'm reading, but not when I'm listening.)

American Band is the marching-band version of Friday Night Lights, but without the language and perhaps with even more depth of personal drama. There's even a Christian element in the plot, as students strive to discern how to blend servanthood and leadership and live out their spiritual priorities. It's a clean book, an intense story, and it makes me look forward to the two games we'll play this year against schools with marching bands extraordinaire. (The coaching staff should hope for dry weather on those nights if they want complete stats!)

Tis the Season -- Almost!

I found another wonderful book at the library. It's non-fiction, and it's what I would call "densely written." Not only is it rather lengthy, but I can't just fly through it at top speed. I don't want to miss ANYTHING, so no skimming. In fact, I haven't even finished reading it, but I couldn't wait to tell someone about it. The topic is so exciting that it has kept me awake several nights, unable to put the book down and turn off the light. It's that much fun!

The problem is, you may find this subject to be a total and complete snooze. For all I know, you'll be snoring in about eight seconds.
The topic? Marching bands.

When I was a kid, my parents took me to the Daffodil Parade every year. Sometimes we'd watch it in Tacoma, but usually avoid the biggest crowd and go to Puyallup. The floats were pretty, the clowns funny, the bagpipers interesting, but the best, BEST entries were the marching bands, and especially the drum sections. I loved feeling the bass drum reverberating in my own chest, wanting to dance to the cadences. Guess what my instrument of choice was, for eight years of school? Yep, percussion all the way! And guess which drum I chose to carry when it was my turn to march in parades? Yep, that big ol' bass drum.

Moving ahead a few years, my husband gradually taught me to enjoy watching football. Then he taught me how to keep a score book, starting with the eight-man team in our little farming community. Man, that was fun! We moved to a larger town, and the coach was pleased to have a reliable adult statistician. Then, we made another move to a metropolitan area where we didn't have any high school contacts. It was a few years before I was able to do stats again, and WOW what a step up! I've been privileged to be on the sideline of a 4A varsity (our state's biggest classification) program for twelve years, loving the up-close view of everything.

You may be wondering what football stats have to do with marching bands. As I said, I stand on the sideline to do the book -- it keeps my head in the game, both figuratively and literally. But if it's raining, I have to sit in the press box with the coaches or find a place in the stands so the book stays dry. During my first or second season with the 4A team, we played a game in the next town over. It rained cats, dogs, and pitchforks that night, so I found a seat above the 50 yard line and hunkered down. The area to my right was roped off for the band, and I figured it would be kind of fun to hear them, and no one else would sit close enough to all that noise to distract me from my job.

Little did I know...

This band happens to be one of the premiere marching bands in the region. When they walked into the stadium, I had never seen such a focused group of teens. Single file, flat-footed silent steps, eyes straight ahead, no goofing around. When they played, it was just about perfect and the music was much more complex than anything I had ever played. They had drum majors who put on quite an amazing show of their own. The director didn't have to do anything except watch. The score book for that game had several gaps where I missed entire plays as I stared at this incredible band. Although I can't recall their halftime show, what I do remember is that they had band dads in matching jackets who moved equipment for them. After the game, parents moved in behind the departing band members to remove the ropes and padded seat covers, and the dads loaded up all the big equipment onto big rolling carts. The kids did their silent walk, eyes straight ahead, and the dads pulled the carts across the street to the school.

Where did these people come from? Parents of teens don't make commitments like that, giving up their time and energy to haul drums and amps and xylophones for their kids every Friday night!

This town hosts one of the biggest Veterans' Day parades in the nation, and combines it with a marching band competition that incorporates parade marching and a field show. I've gone to the field show a few times, and once happened to walk past a parking lot full of school buses and a couple of charters. And... a couple of semi-trailers with the names of high school bands painted on the sides. The inside of the trailer was full of customized storage space for the band. Wow.

At one of the field competitions I watched, the crowd was so quiet that a trumpet soloist could be heard without amplification. Of course, we did have to strain a bit to hear the nuances of his piece over the sound of the raindrops on the roof. People were that attentive!

I could go on and on, and maybe I'll write more about this later, but if you've made it this far, here's the info about the book:

American Band, written by Kristen Laine. Here's a link to an NPR interview, too. Click on "listen now."

What's Your Comfort Food?

When I was young, I loved my mom's raw fries. Grated potatoes, lots of Crisco shortening, and a good amount of salt. Crispy and wonderful. Another favorite was pork chop breaded in crushed Wheaties, served with rice. Or good homemade bread, fresh from the oven. Real soup, not out of a can.

Lately I've been needing comfort food. Potatoes and pork chops and soup, all over again. Stress has a way of working around inside your gut, and you have to have food that'll fill the empty places.

I've got spiritual comfort food, too, and am I ever thankful for that. One of my favorite Scripture passages to lean back on is this one:

[Jesus said] "Come unto Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden,
and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My load is light.

Whatever causes your gut to rumble, there's a comfort that settles it back down again.