Turn It Up!

Turn it up!

Sharla and I hear that outburst from the backseat on nearly every ride in the car.
We don’t even consciously know the radio is on, as we routinely turn it way down instead of off. Carson’s hearing is very acute and recognizes songs from the first few notes. ( I wish “Name That Tune” was still on the air…maybe we could cash in!)

He has an ear for the "oldies" as that is the music Sharla listens to in the car. He also picks up songs from the movies he watches as they use the same songs. He instantly connects the song to the movie such as: "that song is from Shrek or that one is from Napoleon(Dynamite).

He amazed us last winter while in a coffee shop in Lexington. We were sipping a coffee and Carson was having a chocolate milk, when he said "springtime", I said"what"? He replied again"springtime". I was at a loss and Sharla had no idea what it was all about. Then it hit me! I caught the faint strains of music playing softly in the background....Vivaldi's Spring. I said "how do know that song? He answered "Little Einstein's"...a show he watches occasionally in the mornings. They introduce art and classical music to preschoolers. So...not many three year olds can pick out a piece of classical music, and that still boggles my mind.

While I consider myself am musically inept, I enjoy music however I’ve never been one to have to always have a soundtrack playing in the background of my daily life. I have always believed that having an “ear” for music is a gift and something that I’ll never comprehend. . I can recognize some tunes, even sing a few bars, but as far as remembering a whole song, apart from a few hymns and regularly sung worship songs, I definitely don’t have the gift and I stand amazed at anyone that can play an instrument or sing.

Since Carson was about one, he has moved to the beat! He loves the praise band at church and alternates between strumming the “air guitar’ and imaginary "drumset" all the while balancing on the back of the pew with my arm around his waist.

He still sings the songs from last years Vacation Bible School Arctic Edge along with his favorite contemporary worship song"Trading My Sorrows". As the psalmist David said in Psalm 98:4 Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise.

However tonight he was belting out "Evil Woman" and "Straight Up"as they played on the radio, not too much praise there, but he sure can carry a tune!

As for the dancing that goes with the music......he has the moves to go with it too... too bad Disney doesn't have Preschool Musical in the works!!....but I'll save that for a later post!

FROZEN DREAMS

Frozen Dreams

My ultimate fantasy trip of a life-time is not to lie on the beach on some tropical island while a warm breeze parts the palm fronds above as I sip a cool drink from a coconut.
I wanna go North!
Up where the breezes are cool and the beaches are rocky and ice-strewn. Where the caribou and the musk ox run free, and the mosquitoes swarm so thick that they can dim the everlasting summer sun. I dream to trek across the open expanses of the frozen tundra, living off the land. I want to partake of the hospitality of the Inuit, learning their ways of survival in the harshest of climes. I want to wear a robe and mittens of sealskin and mukluks made of the finest walrus hide. I will watch as clouds of migrating bird’s trouble the waters of a pristine glacial lake. I want to catch the grayling and the char and cook it over a fire of driftwood from a distant unforeseen boreal forest. I long to lie on my back and watch the Aurora Borealis paint the black sky with curtains of pastel brilliance. I want to feel the bite of -45 F on uncovered skin!
I want to watch polar bears (from a distance, of course) as they lumber across the whiteness, ever searching for their next meal. I dream to sail the open waters of the polar sea, up the west coast of Greenland, passing giant headlands and countless glaciers and unnamed mountain peaks. Sailing northward, going as far as the pack ice will allow me. Retracing the route of the ill-fated Franklin expedition and the later voyage of Amundsen through the Northwest Passage. I will trudge onward as a lemming, crossing each new barrier without a thought of turning back.
My infatuation of all things “arctic” began over two decades ago when I discovered the books of Farley Mowat. His stories and sociologic insights into the people that inhabit the vast expanses of the Great White North filled me with intrigue. He traveled extensively throughout the arctic, preserving the ways of life in his reports. He brought to light the hardships and travails facing the Inuit and the Siberians, along with the issues of habitat destruction, over-fishing, oil exploitation and introduced diseases. All of these things have a detrimental effect on the northern societies. His books, Sea of Slaughter, People of the Deer, The Siberians, Never Cry Wolf, The Desperate People and the Boat Who Wouldn’t Float, are must read’s for anyone looking for an insight in the nether reaches on the far north.
While I long to step foot on the frozen soil, I also know that dreams are dreams. Dreams are what you make of them. Some people have an uncanny knack for making their dreams come to fruition and others, me included, dream just to be dreaming. My head sometimes swims with countless thoughts, and I struggle trying to make sense of the mish-mash. Thoughts of a child. 1 Corinthians 13:11 tells us….I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
I guess I will always struggle with this one, and next year I’ll probably be reclining on a beach beneath an umbrella slathered in SPF 45, reading a book about the arctic, drinking frozen lemonade and watching Sharla bake in the sun while Carson splashes and builds sand castles.
Oh, the life of a dreamer…and forever a little boy!

POSTCARD FROM GEORGETOWN KENTUCKY

What a beautiful day!
70 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze. Such a relief from the heat and humidity of the past week.
The Bengals have deserted town, students are unloading cars and carrying boxes into brick buildings with countless windows, and another semester is beginning.
Carson and I have been kicking around a soccer ball on the campus of Georgetown College while we wait on Sharla to get out of her Town Meeting of Fall orientation.
We have now retired to the car to let Carson watch Open Season( for the umpteenth time) on the DVD player. I am writing in the car as the battery is slowly dying on my computer.
Carson said earlier in the morning that he will be going to school here when he gets bigger and that he will play soccer and go to class with the girls. ( I better start saving my money now!)
Our next visit will be in a couple of months and will coincide with the Homecoming game. As long as the “mascot” stays on the other side of the field, we should be all right. I am nominating Sharla for Homecoming Queen!! I'll post a picture of her with her roses and tiara later this Fall.
By the way…..just where is Shorter College?
We do this little trip on average of four times a year. We spend a “guy’s day” together waiting on Momma. We usually wile away the hours kicking the ball, hitting nerf golf balls, chasing squirrels, watching movies, eating snacks, checking out the Hispanic flea market(they have a great selection of Mexican League soccer gear), and more or less driving around and checking out the sights.
We still have a few hours to get all of this done after we take Sharla to lunch.
We then have to go to Lexington to eat at Johnny Carino’s and to let her shop at the Hamburg Pavillion before we hit the road back to C’burg.
Just a few more trips and she will be all finished up!!!!! To embark on her new mission in life empowered with her MA in Special Ed.
Just a day in the life of the traveling Johnson family.

"AND THEN....DISCOURAGEMENT SET IN"

To quote a line from one of my favorite movies, "and then... depression set in" it is from the movie Stripes. Bill Murray had just had his car repossessed, lost his job and his girlfriend in less than an hour. As she walked out the door, he slumped to the floor and uttered that memorable line. I think discouragement was not even a part of his vocabulary.

A very interesting lesson this morning in Sunday School The lesson was titled “When You’re Discouraged”.
The lesson in the quarterly was written by Tara Nye and she used the following parable to open the study....
Once upon a time it was announced that the devil was going out of business and would sell all his equipment to those who were willing to pay the price. On the big day of the sale, all his tools were attractively displayed. Amongst the tools were envy, jealousy, hatred, malice, deceit, sensuality, pride, idolatry, and other implements of evil. Each of these tools was marked with its own price tag.
In a corner by itself was a harmless looking, well-worn, wedge-shaped tool, but it bore a higher price than any other tool. Someone asked what it was. The devil answered “That is Discouragement .” the next question came quickly, “and why is it priced so high even though it is plain to see it is worn more than the others?”
“Because,” replied the devil, “it is more useful to me that all these others. I can pry open and get into a man’s heart with that when I cannot get near him with any other tool. Once I get inside, I can use him in whatever way suits me best. It is worn well because I use it on everybody I can, and few people even know it belongs to me.”
The tool was priced so high that no one can buy it, and to this day it is never been sold. It still belongs to the devil, and he still uses it on mankind.

This lesson really hit me hard....I know I sometimes feel that wedge whenever my best laid plans get pushed to the wayside. I know it is a feeling of pride that gets in the way of me doing the Lord’s will. We all feel discouraged in our daily life, discouraged in our jobs, discouraged when our children don’t do what we tell them to do, discouraged when someone else succeeds without paying their dues, or so we think.
We all need to evaluate the cause of our discouragement and ask God for a fresh vision of his purpose for our lives.
I just try to go with the flow, and not let discouragement turn into depression.
It is a hard battle to fight, that the rewards will be great when the battle is over.

Futbol?

Futbol?
I could put all my knowledge of the game into a few sentences and if it is double spaced it could possibly make an interesting, albeit short paragraph.
My experience of the game is relatively short. We never played it in school and the only name I remember from my school days is Kyle Rote jr. Is he still alive?
I really just got interested in the game about two years ago. I started following the Guatemalan National team in their quest to qualify for the World Cup. I still can’t recall any of the player’s names, but the nicknames are memorable. It seems all Latin players have a nickname..”el Conejo”(the rabbit), “el Pescadito”(little fish), and ‘el Mago”(the magician). I haven’t noticed that in the MSL as of yet, but I’m sure it’s coming.
Why the Guatemalan National team? Well… that is due to my connection with the up and coming “futbol” prodigy from Guatemala, my son Carson.
We became a “forever” family in 2004 and since he started to walk, he has kicked a ball around the house. This past Autumn he watched a game on TV and then saw the goals set up in Central Park. We had to buy a ball and go to the park to let him run. He was only three and could run circles around the old man. We then planned a trip to Columbus on Mother’s Day this Spring to watch the Crew play the Chivas. It was Hispanic heritage night and the stadium was abuzz with activity. After buying the twenty bucks worth of popcorn and cotton candy along with a stadium horn we settled in our seats to enjoy the game. Carson loved the game, the excitement and the sounds of somewhat familiar Spanish language in the background.
When we got home we signed him up to play in the Upward league this Summer. As his first taste of organized sports he is proving to be a good listener. I tried to teach him the two-handed overhead throw-in many times in our practices and he was too stubborn to even try. Then in his first game the coach handed him the ball and he instinctively performed the maneuver like he had done it a million times before. While he still runs around the field quite aimlessly and likes to pick grass and flowers on the field, run to Momma for a drink leaving the goal unattended and kicking toward the wrong goal, he loves the game.
I still have a lot to learn and with the help of “Soccer for Idiots” maybe someday I’ll figure it all out. I even bought myself some cleats. “Why a bald over-weight 44 year old needs cleats?” is kinda laughable, but he said I needed them for the park.
But right now all I care about is the big smile and the “game face” whenever he puts on the uniform and puts that # 3 ball under his arm, and the smiles of his very proud parents as that “soon to be four year old” little head of black hair bounces tirelessly up and down the field.