Dodgers and Cubs - My Blue Dilemma

I have a dilemma.

It will be totally resolved in a few days, but it burdens me now.

You see, when I am cut, I bleed Dodger Blue. The voice of Vin Scully is soothing, like the ocean waves or the wind blowing through a gently swaying palm. A grilled Dodger Dog tastes like fillet mignon, it's aroma alone puts other stadium vendors out of business. The sound of 56,000 cheering fans at Dodger Stadium raises and emotional excitement that never fully leaves your psyche. It is a wonderful noise.

But for we faithful, we haven't had much to cheer about for 20 years. It was exactly two decades ago that Kirk Gibson played Robert Redford. I still can't believe what I saw. In a year that was so improbable, the impossible happened.



Since then, there have been some good moments to cheer, but no champions. Wednesday night was only the 2nd playoff game the Dodgers have won since 1988.

I should take a moment here to address my San Diego Padre fan friends, who may have a difficult time understanding some of these things. After all, the Dodgers only retire uniform numbers of Hall of Famers who go into the Hall as Dodgers. The Padres retire numbers of former Dodgers who give the Padres a good highlight.



I am a Padre fan also. I love the Padres and root for them all year long. This is also difficult for my Padre fan friends to accept because Padre fans are supposed to hate the Dodgers. But the Padres/Dodgers "rivalry" is one way only. The Padres have invented a "rivalry" with the Dodgers because it helps sell tickets. That is understandable. Baseball is a business after all.

The Dodgers and Dodger fans have no beef with the Padres; there is no rivalry from a Dodger fan's perspective. This is why its easy for me to be a fan of the Dodgers AND the Padres at the same time. The closest thing to a Padres-Dodgers rivalry may have been back in the days of Padre Kurt Bevacqua, who once accused Tommy Lasorda of ordering Dodger pitchers to deliberately hit Padre batters. Lasorda responded that he has never in his career as a pitcher or as a manager deliberately thrown at a hitter, but that if he ever did, he certainly wouldn't waste time throwing at a batter like Bevacqua, who couldn't hit water if he fell out a boat. I can't put that in quotes because the actual quote included several colorful metaphors added between those words. But you get the idea.

Bottomline is, I am a Dodger fan, but also a Padre fan. The real Dodger rivalry is with the Giants, and it goes both ways and there is no love. Its a real rivalry, dangerous and passionate. The Padres are simply another team to play in order to get to the playoffs.

And Steve Garvey will always be a Dodger.

Back to the my dilemma.

The dilemma I have is that while I am a true blue Dodger fan, I am also a baseball fan. I love baseball. Baseball is poetry. Those that don't like baseball don't understand that most of the action is happening between pitches. They also don't understand how vitally important baseball has been to our country, from Babe Ruth's Yankees, to Jackie Robinson's Dodgers, to all of baseball after 9-11. From the sandlot to the neighborhood parks, baseball is timeless and distinctly American.

“In our sundown perambulations of late through the outer parts of Brooklyn, we have observed several parties of youngsters playing ‘base,’ a certain game of ball ... Let us go forth awhile, and get better air in our lungs. Let us leave our close rooms...the game of ball is glorious.” - Walt Whitman

It is a glorious game, poetry and all, which leads me to my point. The Chicago Cubs have not won the World Series for exactly 100 years this year. A century without a championship. The Red Sox have won 6 times since then. Would it not be poetic for the Cubs to win after 100 years, to end The Curse of the Billy Goat? One hundred years is a good round number, fitting of a Hollywood scripted feel good moment. It seems like it would be good for baseball for the Cubs to win the 2008 World Series. Maybe even good for America, as baseball is always timely in this way, reminding us that there is always hope, always time for a new beginning, always a chance for victory and renewal.

I think God loves baseball. I don't actually believe in these baseball superstitions, but as a baseball fan, the Red Sox ending the "Curse of the Bambino" by beating the Yankees in The House that Ruth Built after being down 0-3 in the ALCS seemed magical. That was the way it had to happen, as if it were ordained to be done so. Yankee Stadium is being torn down this year, and maybe that's okay now that the Curse is reversed.

Wrigley Field, Home of the Chicago Cubs, is now the oldest ballpark in the National League. It has only seen one World Series in 1945, and no championships. It should never be torn down, at least not until it has seen a World Series Champion.

So, can I root for the Cubs against the Dodgers this week in the National League Playoffs? I don't know. It is a dilemma, two teams with equal shades of blue, steeped in history and importance. I suppose I'll have to see how my heart reacts when its over.

Either way, I'm rooting for the winner of this series to win it all starting next week.

I love baseball.

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The Chinese Oikos and the Garage Door

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to speak at the Chinese Bible Church here in San Diego. I took French in high school and college, which, once again, was not valuable. But who takes Chinese anyway? Fortunately, I had an interpreter.

Whenever I am asked to speak somewhere, whether it be a church or other kind of community organization, it tends to be on one of just a couple of topics. Most often, I introduce audiences to the idea of their "oikos." I plan on writing more extensively about oikos in the next week or two. Most people reading this probably have some idea of the concept and how it works. But, in short, it goes like this:

Oikos is the Greek word meaning "household." In terms of ancient Greek society and in modern sociology, this "household" is not simply your spouse and 2.5 kids that live with you in your domicile. It refers to the people who surround you in your relational world, your circle of influence. One sociologist says your oikos is the group of people you spend an hour or more with or around every day. So for most people, their oikos consists of the people who do live in thier domicile, and also their family or roommates or strangers who move in to your house when you are away for Christmas (subject of another experience I should blog about.) It also consists of coworkers you were most closely with, classmates you see every day, the people who live next door to you. The average person has between 8-15 people in their oikos. For me, about 8 of them are Starbuck's baristas.

Oikos is vital to any society's survival. When people pay attention to their oikos, and work to meet each others needs, society works very well. When people ignore the needs of the people around them, society begins to crumble. Its all about the oikos.

So, to any audience, the concept is received well. Its basically a practical and tangible way to love your neighbor. I have now taught the concept in 3 languages and to people of all ages and backgrounds. It is a great equalizer. You don't get to choose your oikos (maybe your spouse, but that's it.) Therefore, everyone has an oikos and everyone is in someone else's oikos. Its unavoidable.

One person from the Chinese congregation shared with me afterward that he thought the oikos idea would work well in the Chinese community here. He said they basically practice this as a culture anyway and that to actually list our your 8-15 people will just make it even more practical. He was very appreciative.

But then he said something interesting. He asked me how the oikos philosophy is working in my church, since "westerners don't tend to do this very well." It is indeed harder for westerners in many respects because we love our walls.

How many of us really know the people who live next door or across the street or in the neighboring apartment? You may remember that in the terrorist manuals that were found after 9/11, the terrorists were advised to not be too concerned about their American neighbors since typically the neighbors aren't paying any attention and will hardly take the time to get to know you. They should expect to make their plans and build their bombs without much interference from the neighbors. It was a sad commentary.

I read one study that blamed automatic garage door openers for this phenomenon in American culture. It suggested that many years ago, people got to know their neighbors because they were often outside watering the grass with a hose and sitting on the porch to cool off becuase there was no air conditioning in the house. And when people got home from work, they had to get out of their car, and actually go open the garage door by hand. All of that out door time presented opportunity to say hello to neighbors, strike up conversations, invite them over for a bar-b-que etc.

Today, for most Americans, we get to our house, while staying in the car, we click the clicker, drive in the garage, then click the clicker again and get out of the car in our private garage with the door down and go into the house. Our built in sprinklers water the grass automatically, and the air is cleaner and more comfortable in our house. Safe. Away from pesky neighbors that we are suspicious of because they never talk to us.

Kristy and I have been making an effort to actually get to know our neighbors. They are in our oikos and we are committed to getting to know those people. Interestingly, the two families we are actually getting to know are the only two families who spend time outside their home.

Across the street, they water their yard with a hose and they sit in lawn chairs to get out of their hot house since they don't have A/C. The other family has a game room and bar in their garage and are often out there. For the most part, we have been unable to get to know our other neighbors simply because we never ever see them. We are planning to invite them over for dinner. They may call the cops on us, but we'll see.

More on oikos later. But its an interesting experience that has me thinking much more today about how important it is that we are concerned about our own oikos. As a Christ Follower, I think its not an option.

I encourage you this way - do you know who your oikos is?

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Random Thoughts On September 11

Some random thoughts about 9/11, seven years later:

I pay as much attention as I can to the memorials and events commemorating 9/11. Starting at 6:00 am this morning, I watched a rebroadcast of the news events as they happened. It's riveting. I remember exactly what I was doing around my house during each of the events on the timeline. Being on the west coast, it began from the moment I woke up. I clicked on the TV just after the 2nd plane hit the towers. "Something very bad is happening" I said to Kristy. "We're going to have a big war."

Some people today don't think we should show the more graphic events of that day. I know people have very different sensitivities to these things and I respect that. I for one think we should show it more often. Judging by the number of Britney Spears references in our current presidential campaign, I think we need as much reality as possible.

A young man in my ministry in September 2001 made an appointment with me to discuss his distress over the realization that evil actually does exist. Why is this even a question? Reason #2 to show the footage more often.

I spent time contemplating the notion of today being a "solemn day." Solemn. A strange word. Why is the "n" there? Maybe its because I watched all that this morning, but solemn it is indeed. I was emotional a few times today as I prayed for our country.

I spent the rest of this morning comforting a deal lady who is dying of cancer. We are making funeral plans and getting her affairs in order. All of us have such affairs. 9-11 did not increase death. One out of every one person dies.

It is shocking to me that we don't have terrorist attacks in our country on a regular basis. I think there are hundreds of heros we will never know or acknowledge.

I want to visit the new memorial at the Pentagon.

I think if I were a family member of someone lost at the World Trade Center, I would be frustrated that there is still no memorial.

The best part about this day is that I think we all go back and care more for each other. People seem to drive better, smile more. Perhaps I'm just more sensitive to it, but it seems like a day where people are more at peace with each other. History has shown that society works better when people take care of people. Everyone has an "oikos," a "household" that consists of the people in your sphere of influence, relational world. 9/11 made each person pay more attention to their oikos, even if for just a few days.

Today is a good day for a renewed perspective on citizenship and the world we live in.

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The Need for Urgent Care

So, my last post, the one where I promised to blog more, was in May.  This year, at least.

I've learned that its hard to keep a blog going when you are, let's say, a bit wordy.  I have several half written posts that never got posted because I was so verbose that I never got to the point I had in mind to begin with and I would have to stop because I had other work to do.

Other work.

I went to the doctor a few weeks ago as I had some kind of cold or flu or something like that going on. My wife went out of town to help her mom and dad with some things and I promised her I would see a doctor if I didn't get well in a couple of days.

I don't like going to doctors generally, but I especially don't like to go when I think I probably just have a cold.  Usually, you can't get an appointment with your regular doctor when you are sick all of a sudden, so you need to go to one of those clinics, often labeled "Urgent Care," where you get well acquainted with your wristwatch.  Be careful not to confuse "Urgent Care" with "Emergency Care," where the long wait is instead measured by a calendar.

The humiliation of going to Urgent Care with merely a cold begins upon arrival.  It starts with the smirk from the nurse receptionist, who considers you just one more in the line of hypochondriacs, and asks you for the reason for the visit.  This time, I responded with a lot of words to try to explain that while perhaps I am simply some kind of blockhead with a cold, there is the possibility that it may be a tumor or some kind of kidney disease, so I just want to do the smart thing and get it checked out.

After the long wait with the others in the post-nasal drip orchestra, extended by boredom due to the lack of up to date news magazines, they finally called my name.  I'm not sure why I have to weigh myself, but after that humiliation, they put me in the little room to wait again.  I always have a dilemma at that point as to whether or not to sit on that medical cushion top table thing with the butcher paper, or to just sit in the chair that is really there for your mom.  This time, I chose the chair.

As I waited for the doctor to come in, I read all the posters on the wall in the exam room.  Much to my shame, in this particular room, they all had a particular message for the patient.  I learned that there's nothing they can do about a cold, and once they determine that you have come to their office for nothing, they will educate you about why you won't be getting any antibiotics or pain killers and that everything you need is at the Rite-Aid right next to your house.  There is no urgency and there will be no care.  They will however make sure to thank you for bringing your germs into the waiting room and ask you for your full copay.

I also noticed this chart called Duration of Cold Symptoms:

I sat there on day 4.  Great.  I hope they don't have a pointer as they point that out to me on the chart.

Finally, the doctor, who is younger than I am, came in and instructed me to get out of the mom chair and up onto the butcher paper.   She took out her instruments and quickly looked in my ears, up my nose and down my throat. She quickly stood back and looked at me, but with a different smirk than the receptionist.

"So, what do you do for a living?" She said rather sternly.

"I'm a pastor" I said with a painful, scratchy throat.

She then took her pointer finger and pointed at my chest and said "You have a profession with no boundaries.  You need to go home and go to bed.  You have a sinus and an ear infection in both ears."

Initially, this was wonderful news!  I would not be the target of medical poster art; I am actually sick!

But what she said to me was truly profound and well, true. In 2007, I never took most of my vacation days.  I was already behind in 2008 and it had been a stressful year.  Its very hard for me to take real time off.  Thanks to my smart phone and wireless Internet, I'm never that far away from my responsibilities. And she was right.  I was sick because I wasn't doing what is right. Instead of treating my body like a temple, I could barely even say I was treating it like a relatively well managed presbyterian youth center.  A spiritual conviction came to me from a doctor who sees too many sick pastors.

I meant this blog to only be a couple of paragraphs, a re-entry into the blogosphere. All this wordiness is to say that this summer, I took some time off.  I had great times with my wife, my parents, and a nephew. I decided to not get around to blogging.

Thanks to the time off however, I'm more focused, with more clear priorities than before, and more ready to be productive. I started this blog as a new year's resolution to be a great ministry tool and personal outlet, along with a resolution to take regular  Sabbaths.  God used that doctor to give me the spiritual "urgent care" I needed to get back on track.

So, I've been back to sabbaths and now, back to blogging.  Looking forward to some much shorter and more regular posts.

And Lost begins in less than 5 months. Just thought I'd mention that...

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El Salvador Pictures and More Promises to Blog More

This year, I pledged to become a regular blogger. I have much to blog about, but making the time to get this done has still not become routine. But, along with some more silly observations, there are very important blogs to post.

I will spend more time on this, but I earlier pledged to give some more photos and info from my El Salvador trip. I have delayed posting them, thinking it was a time consuming project. But fortunately, I was able to upload them to my Facebook account in one shot, and now you can view them here. They don't give the philosophical story, but it will give you a visual context for the upcoming more detailed blog.

Don't hold your breath, but really, its on the way.

As far as the blogging goes, I've got a few coming soon, including some insights on Lost and especially its fascinating John Locke character. For those of you who can't wait until Thursday, or for those looking for a new cool You Tube video, here is an oldie but a goodie from an amazing computer artist.



Here's the link to my El Salvador pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=118203&l=33d90&id=559860710

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This Moron Got His Taxes Done Early This Year

I got my taxes done very early this year. About 22 hours early, in fact, about 2 a.m. this morning, the morning of April 15th. I can't remember the last time I had my taxes done so soon.


"Early" is a relative term in my house. To me, getting the taxes done early means that I didn't have to file an extension, and that my return was filed before midnight on April 15th. For example, a couple of years ago, I filed my taxes electronically and the time stamp on my filing was April 15th, 11:57 p.m. As I see it, my taxes were done 3 minutes early.

My wife doesn't see it that way. For her, "early" would mean filing the return on February 1, the same day that the last 1099 statement arrives in the mail. We have no agreement on either the meaning of this term "early," or on the appropriate level of urgency that ought to be sensed by the legal "head of household" when it comes to tax season. Tension mounts. Admittedly, my level of stress increases greatly as the Ides of April approaches; I know she's more right than I am.

The closer we get to April 15th, this stress I feel weighs heavily. By the 14th, my cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis happening in my personality. But this didn't happen this year, I got done early. One of my co-workers noted that he was surprised to see me in the office today, looking well. Not as surprised as I am. Or my wife for that matter.

However, I have to say that I am a bit sad that I will be missing one of the most enjoyable rituals and cultural phenomenons that happens between 11-12 p.m. each April 15th at a city's main post office. I've participated a few times before. This is an annual gathering of people with similar definitions of the word "early." This congregation of the pale and stressed-out arrives under pressure and strain, but leaves rejuvenated and hopeful. These are the people who know that the post office remains open until midnight, just for them, on this one special day.

You see, its not just a few people who are there to run in and drop off their returns in time for the April 15 postmark. Its thousands and thousands of people arriving all evening long. The post office in fact will take over an entire block just to handle the crowds. If you have your item stamped already, you don't even need to leave your car. Here in San Diego, for example, Postal employees have set up booths in every lane of Midway Blvd. going both ways to accommodate the streams of traffic. Its bigger than any sporting event. Some smart entrepreneurs are even selling bottled water, hot dogs, glow sticks, you name it. It's federally fun and festive!

This year, I am going to miss the camaraderie, the feeling of connectedness with my fellow early tax filers. If you've never seen this, you should go and just observe. Or sell pizza slices or something. It's truly and American experience.

Of course, the truth is, I know I should get my taxes done sooner. And I have far too much experience with just giving up and going down to the post office at midnight to mail off the Tax Extension form so that I can wait until midnight on October 15th to finish up.

These days, you can get an automatic six month extension for any reason, no questions asked (you still have to pay whatever you guess you might eventually owe on April 15th or suffer penalties and interest.) A few years ago, however, you would only get an automatic four month extension. If you wanted an additional two months, you had to send in another form by August 15th. On that form, you were required to give a good reason why you can't file your return. The IRS clearly stated that "I didn't get around to it" was not acceptable and would not qualify you for this extension, and your returns would be deemed officially "late."

One year, on August 15th, I didn't get around to it. What could I write in that blank?

Reason for requesting an additional two month extension:

"_________________________"

I had nothing legitimate to write. So I wrote:

Reason for requesting an additional two month extension:

"I am a moron, and have been unable to complete my return."

The IRS granted my request for the extension. No penalties.

I suppose this taxpayer is now legally considered to be a "moron." I also think some agent at the IRS has my Extension form on the wall of his cubicle just for fun.

Hope you get your taxes done early this year!

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Me and Chuck, George and Abraham

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to meet and introduce Charlton Heston to a crowd of political donors who paid to hear from him and have some fancy hors d'oeuvres. During that time of my life, I had the opportunity to meet many people of his cultural stature, but he was certainly one of the most interesting and the most genuine of those I met during that time. His death this weekend reminds me of something I thought about after that experience.

Chuck and me. I seem to look much older in this pre-contact lens picture.

After meeting him, I called my parents to let them know I had gotten to spend some time with one of their movie star heroes. They were quite tickled about this, being that Chuck Heston really was a huge star in their youth, and always remained a huge star. He was of course Moses, Ben Hur, and of course, who can forget his stirring portrayal of George Taylor.

How odd it must have been for them to consider that their kid would one day meet someone who was a big deal to them in their childhood. At least, this concept seemed interesting to me at the time. This idea, that generations can interact with the same historical figures at different times and with different meanings fascinates me. I picture my mom and dad as teenagers in theaters watching Ben Hur, not even considering that they would have a son who would later chat with the movie's actor about that chariot scene that must have been incredibly thrilling for them. Small world. I love connections like that. Be fascinated and keep reading.

It occurred to me that while sometimes history seems to be quite distant, it really isn't as far off as we think. For example, consider this interesting observation. It is possible that a person could have personally known Abraham Lincoln and later in that person's life, they could have personally known George W. Bush. Its true. Do the math. Perhaps even more profound, someone as a young boy could have personally known Thomas Jefferson, and as an old man, could have also personally known Ronald Reagan. I think that person might in fact be Bob Dole.

I wonder if I will have a kid who gets to meet Harrison Ford. I'm quite certain my kids will know who Han Solo and Indiana Jones are. I asked Heston about the Chariot race. He told me he was nervous about it until the race choreographer assured him that he would definitely win. I hope my kids ask Ford about being dragged from the back of a truck only holding on to that whip.

"I don't seem to have a 20th Century face." - Charlton Heston, 1924 - 2008.

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