States' Line-Drive, and a Grove Goes Holm, Pt.1

Friday, March 5

My parents and I met Peter at ACM aviation, where he works, and parked our cars there for the weekend. This has become traditional travel planning for members of our family; since Peter is the director of safety at ACM now and has been there in various capacities for the better part of the last ten years. We snagged a ride to the other side of SJC and eventually boarded our 8 AM Southwest flight to Portland, OR.

We arrived in Portland at about 10AM, picked up our Subaru rental car and headed east. Little did I know that by driving along the Hood River I was taking in views of both Oregon (on my right, including mountain goats) and Washington (on my left, over the river.) Little did I further know that in Oregon 65 MPH does not mean the same thing as it does in California. Before I had covered more than 50 miles of territory, I was stopped by a highway patrolman who promptly assessed me a fine in excess of $270. I had been traveling at about 75 MPH, but going downhill I had slowly edged my way up over 77, 78, and 79 till driving at about an 80 MPH clip. While I saw many vehicles traveling faster than this both before and after my ticket, I didn't see the cop waiting in the turnoff. Maybe that was all the difference. I was told by the locals, upon arriving in La Grande four or five hours later, that the Oregon authorities are quite strict about the speed limits. I was warned that even vehicles traveling as little as 68 MPH are often pulled-over and warned if not ticketed.

The first couple hours at Andrew's house in La Grande were spent building a stand for the wedding reception punch bowl, a huge, clear glass GE-brand steet-lamp cover. If you knew Andrew, you would know that this kind of industrial cleverness and sense of humor are just up his alley. Within minutes of my arrival I was in his impressive, industrially outfitted garage shop, using a belt-sander, drill-press and jigsaw to help him cut out the pieces. Dad correctly observed that it was a surprise to see me behind such equipment. But I felt surprisingly at home. Note to self: power tools = awesome.

After working for a while at Andrew's place, we cleaned up a little bit and went to the wedding rehearsal at the First Presbyterian Church (PCUSA) of La Grande. I am pretty sure Andrew would never go to a PCUSA church, but it was a nice old building and beautiful for a wedding. The hostess, Mary, was a delightful gal. The practice was also fun. Andrew had brought two lengths of rope, one for the groom, and one for the bride, which were to be tied together during the ceremony in a True Lovers' Knot. Andrew and Loree (Ms. Grove, his fiancé) each tied one half of the knot, then everyone in the wedding party was to pull on it to tighten it fast. The practice went well, and I enjoyed meeting the other members of the party, especially Loree's sisters Lisa and Karena. They were definitely fun.

After the rehearsal, while the rest of my family continued being good guests at our host-home, I went with Andrew and his best man (a cousin of his, and old friend of ours) John Herbert, to a dinner for the wedding party at someone's house whose name has become lost on me, but who was absolutely wonderful. Note to self: you really need to work on your problem with remembering people's names. It makes them feel they'r unimportant. The time spent with the Holmquists and Herberts and Groves was a real delight, hearing different stories of how the perfect couple had met and meshed.

That evening Peter and John, Joshua Herbert and I followed Lisa and Karena over to their house, which was quite quaint and had a linoleum floor decorated with 50's-style multicolored starbursts on a shimmery background. It was enough to do the Big Lebowski's bowling alley proud. We spent an hour or so chatting, while taking turns using a hammer and awl to punch holes in tin cans, then tying them onto yellow nylon rope.

Photo credit: Peter Kjell Ballard

Saturday, March 6

Saturday Morning I got up and had some quiet time before 8:30 AM, when Andrew was supposed to pick me up. I also had a little time for coffee and chatting with our enchanting host and hostess, Johnny and Rosie Spalione. Andrew was all ready to run when he arrived a bit late, and I saw John was already waiting on the bench of Andrew's ancient yellow Chevy pickup when we bustled out into the morning chill.

We proceeded to the church, where various concerns kept us busy, particularly dressing ourselves in the tuxes we hoped were the right size. They were ordered from a place in Visalia, CA, so if they didn't fit right, we were out of luck. As fate would have it, everything fit except the lengths of the trousers, which were a bit long for the other fellows and a bit short on mine. Still by the time the photographer was ready, so were we, yellow ties and waistcoats intact. The ladies looked pleasing in their green dresses with lemon sashes. I was told later that Andrew had chosen all of the colors and accoutrement, presumably having already consulted with the bride concerning her preferences. The photo shoot was good, though the photographer had a bad habit of getting us smiling then sitting and waiting for the smiles to stiffen before actually clicking the shutter. Still, he had a good way of getting us to keep smiling long after our smilers were tired, and that has to count for something

Then came the pre-wedding mischief. Andrew had a plan. I was to have a green piece of fabric pinned inside my tuxedo jacket, with various pocketwatches, rings, and other oddities pinned to it. I also needed sunglasses. Being that I was the third in line out of three groomsmen, I wasn't immediately sure what in the world he could have planned for me. But when he told me the plan I agreed it was a good one.

...to be continued...

Rainy Museum Trip & Prep for Temptation

Saturday, February 23, 2008

• Driving in the Rain - I was going to wake up at 9:30 and drive to Berkeley, maybe with Brian. Instead I couldn't sleep Friday night so I woke up at 11:30, got ready slowly, and headed out without Brian because it had become to late and he couldn't go. Still needed coffee, so I went by the most comfortable Starbucks, Snell & Santa Teresa, to get a bev. That was kindof a bummer because I was trying to call Tony Buccino to come with me to Berkeley, but he was working a shift at the bux. So I hung with him while I ate my lunch there instead of on the road. Then I went and bought black umbrella with a curved handle, and some Skittles (personal favorite) of all three flavors, to smuggle into the museum. I drove my Accord to Berkeley, taking 85 to 17/880 to 580 to University avenue. Julia was eating a sandwich and told me to call her later, and several other people did not answer their phones. Jed picked up and we talked about everything but what we'd been planning on talking about. He actually got on Google maps and navigated me through Berkeley to my destination, the Berkeley Art Museum.



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• The Museum - You can see what time I actually arrived (that is, the 3:11, not the 4:11).
  
  
  Upon entry, I found that they had special pricing. $8 general admission, free for Berkeley students, $50 for registered Republicans, and $5 if you're a total stud. You can see which one I was.
  
  


• The Exhibit - Even though the museum currently has a huge collection of Francisco de Goya's etchings downstairs from Los Caprichos, and I was most interested in that, the exhibition I needed to see was Enrique Chagoya's Borderlandia exhibit, which is primarily comprised of political and social parody pieces copied from other iconic works of historical painters. There had been a field trip with my college class, but I had to work, so I needed to make it up on my own time.
  
   
   
  
  His work is acclaimed for its use of familiar images of French art and particularly American pop art (such as Mickey Mouse and Superman) as symbols of an oppressive American or "white" culture that condescends to and injures Mexican cultural and economic interests. I found this to be a very effective form of art, and I consider him to be very talented. The emotional response was repulsive, however, because while he showed American cultural icons trampling Mexican or native central American cultural icons, his work also mocks the culture of my fond memories, essentially spitting on childhood favorites like Captain America and Superman. I found this to an ineffectual way to rally sympathy for his position, because I did not feel that my culture was trampling his, but rather felt that his high art was derisively trampling my childhood associations. This raises the question, whose culture should be allowed to trample someone else's culture? Should a white person be trampled upon simply because someone thinks white people ought to be?


• Driving in the Rain, Part Deux - Driving back home I had meant to call Jed, but I'd also said I'd call Julia back. She was done with her sandwich, so we talked about a lot of stuff, mostly God and how to witness to Muslims and Hindus. That actually lasted longer than I thought, and I was almost home by the time I called Jed, who didn't pick up.


• Lecture Preparation - I spent some time into the night working on my lecture for the following morning. My church's leadership recruited me to help teach through a Bible study written by the late great Jean Gibson called BCT, or Basic Christian Training, the second in a series after Survey in Basic Christianity (SBC). Mine was a topic based on chapter 7, "Overcoming Temptation." The following are my lecture notes. According to my thinking, the best ways to overcome temptation are to know the sources of that temptation then know what helps you make that decision (and keep making that decision) not to give in.