A Musical Tribute to Rain

"Rain, rain, go away

and come again another day."

It does not look good for a 53-year old man to be dancing in the rain and singing the old children's song, "Rain, rain, go away and come again another day!"  The neighbors kind of look at you funny, and besides--it doesn't work.  The stupid song doesn't work.  Never has, but I thought it was worth a try as we are in the third day of a deluge here in Montana.  The forecast through the next week does not give one much hope as rain is forecast for each day.  I hear that the best-selling book over in the big city is Building an Ark for Dummies.  Along with everyone else in Montana I am getting tired of rain . . . and more rain . . . and even more rain!

I decided that since I could not stop the rain by singing and dancing around the yard I would bite the bullet and concede.  Instead of fighting the rain I decided to celebrate the rain by offering a musical tribute.  What follows are a few of the many songs that sing about rain.  I hope that you enjoy this tribute--if you can't beat the rain you might as well join the rain.  Enjoy!

Last week we had a couple of days in which we received about three inches of rain--then we had two nice days before this deluge started.  We all knew it was coming, but that is not going to stop us from complaining.  We should have known.  Here is a song you might remember from a group called the Fortunes:

Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again

I guess putting a peppy tune to a depressing subject like rain might make one bear the weather a little better, but I doubt it.  Waiting for it to rain is no fun and maybe the Eurythmics have a better take it on with their song:

Here Comes the Rain Again

Well, the rain is already here, so we have to make the best of it I suppose.  The Judds found that by sitting in rocking chairs and rocking to its rhythm it wasn't so bad.  Yeah, but they don't have duck floating by with life jackets on either.  You decide if rocking in a rocking chair helps your mood when it rains:

Rockin' With the Rhythm of the Rain

The rocking chairs on our deck are floating right now, so I think rocking to the rhythm of the rain is out of the question.  Those southern girls just don't know when to come in out of the rain.  But, hey, Gene Kelly thinks we ought to sing and dance in the rain:

Singing in the Rain

Again, if I did a musical dance number out on the street of my neighborhood they would call the local cops.  First of all I cannot dance--at least not without a few beers; I cannot sing--except in my truck with the windows rolled up; and, I cannot do either one at the same time.  Neighbors would think I was either drunk or crazy!  Yet, if it keeps raining like this I just might go crazy running down the street laughing!  I don't think that is what Neil Sedaka had in mine when he sang this next song.  I think he was trying to be romantic--now you tell me who is crazy:

Laughter in the Rain

Another romantic take on rain came from a BJ Thomas song that was in the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  I loved the movie and still think that it is the best pre-VH1 and MTV video featuring Paul Newman.  I am not really sure what it has to do with rain but the video is fun:

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head 

The problem with this rain is that it has not really stopped--it keeps coming down--all day and all night.  We never get a break!  Maybe if it would just stop during the night, but no!  No it has to keep raining.  Eddie Rabbitt likes rainy nights--what would you expect from a guy with the last name of "Rabbitt":

I Love a Rainy Night

One of my favorite "rain" songs is from Bruce Hornsby.  I loved this song when it first came out years ago and I still like.  I wonder what ever happened to Bruce?  Probably floating down the Yellowstone River with all this rain.  Here is Mandolin Rain:

Mandolin Rain

Sorry about that, I guess I was getting sentimental there for a minute.  Must be my water-logged brain.  I am ready for the rain to stop.  But who will stop the rain?  Like Credence Clearwater Revival all this rain kind of gets a person confused.  First, they want to know if  anyone has seen the rain--duh!  And, then they want to know what we all want to know--who is going to stop it!  Enjoy both of CCR's contributions to the rain tribute:

Have You Seen the Rain

Who'll Stop the Rain

There were a whole lot more songs about rain out there.  Seems everyone who sings has had some sort of an encounter with rain and decided to sing about it.  But that is my musical tribute to rain.  The nice thing about rain is that it does eventually stop--even without singing the children's song.  When it does it will bring out its rainbow, which brings me to my last song as a tribute to rain--Somewhere Over the Rainbow.  For all of you purists out there, I apologize, but I have always loved Jewel's version the best:

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

So, what are some of your favorite "rain" songs?  Let me know and maybe the next time it rains I'll put them up.  In the meantime, keep dry!

The Furry Family

"I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive."
 (Gilda Radner)

Maddie and Dora

In the Keener household there are two exceptional privileged critters--our dogs, Maddie and Dora.  Maddie (full name Maddie Rose) is our nine year old Boxer; Dora (full name Dora Bell) is our six year old Dachshund.  Maddie was born in Grant, Nebraska, while Dora--well, I am not quite sure where she was born--but it was somewhere in Nebraska.  We adopted Dora when a friend's niece was given an ultimatum between keeping Dora or the boyfriend--she chose the boyfriend and lost out on both ends.  She should have kept Dora as the relationship would have lasted a lot longer.  It did not take Dora long to fit into the family--I mean, own the family.

  

Maddie is a pretty happy dog.  They say that often owners and their dogs begin to look and act a lot like one another--this is me after a couple of beers!  No, just kidding, but Maddie is definitely an introvert like me.  She does not like crowds or strangers and will bashfully hide whenever around either until she warms up to these invaders of her space.  For the most part though, she is a pretty contented dog who loves to play Frisbee, eat shrimp, and keep a pretty low profile.  She is quiet and rarely barks unless provoked--she goes days without even letting out a bark.  She has been my constant companion since she was a puppy and I got her to ride back and forth with me between our home and the community where my church was.  She is an excellent hiking partner who never complains unlike some of my human hiking partners.  And, the best thing about Maddie is when she greets you when you get home.  Boxers have this wonderful little "butt dance" that shows how much they missed you--nothing beats a "welcome" from a Boxer!

Dora, on the other hand, is actually the wife's dog.  Since Maddie was always going with me, the wife wanted her own dog.  Dora was that dog.  And like the wife, Dora is an extrovert.  Dora has never met a person she did not like or see as an opportunity for a handout.  Dora is a lover much like her owner and enjoys meeting new people and critters--even skunks.  In the first six months we lived in Montana Dora had a thing for the neighborhood skunk--she had two smelly, face-to-face encounters that resulted in her not being allowed in the bed for about a week.  It was sort of a Pepe Le Pew sort of affair with Dora being Pepe.  Where Maddie is always wanting to run and play, Dora is into the more leisurely life style.  At the same time, Dora suffers from small dog syndrome--she barks all of the time.  Because of this we have nicknamed her "Door Bell"--in fact, she is better than any doorbell we've ever had.  She also has developed into a fairly good alarm system for our number two son who has Epilepsy--she always starts barking whenever number two son has a seizure and that has been quite helpful for us.  She also views herself as the "alpha" dog--always putting Maddie into her place (even though Maddie knows she could whip Dora's butt at any time)--and loves to beg.  For a long time we viewed Dora as the "evil" dog and Maddie as the "good" dog.  Dora gets jealousy--especially around food.  She loves food and is the only dog who has ever had a place at our table.

  

Dora--the green-eyed monster!

As I wrote earlier, both are fairly privileged members of the family.  They are the only ones allowed to have their feet on the couch.  They get to eat before everyone else and are allowed to whine about the meal.  They get the choice spots in the bed and don't mind claiming it as theirs.  Nothing is worse than getting stared down by two dogs when you are sleeping in their space.  They get to beg, roll their eyes, and make a nuisance of themselves at the dinner table.  They get to stick their heads out the truck windows while on a ride--the wife always gives me the evil eye when I try sticking my head out the window on rides.  They can go to the bathroom outside, while the wife frowns on that from me.  They live a pretty darn good life--a dog's life!  But we love them as much as we love our children--at times, maybe more.

A new dog has moved into the neighborhood.  Our next door neighbors bought a Great Dane puppy a couple of months ago and he is about five months old now.  His name is Moose and he is a sweetheart.  Maddie is smitten--she has herself a boyfriend.  Every day she and Moose run up and down the fence--moaning, groaning,and barking in that doggie language only they can understand--swapping spit--and having a grand old time.  It is true love!  They have a blast together which, of course, drives Dora crazy.  She attacks Maddie so we have to distract her so that Maddie and Moose get their time together.  

Moose, the Great Dane

Puppy Love--Moose and Maddie frolicking

Swapping spit--true love

Still to come down the road--the rest of the furry family.  Eventually I will get around to introducing the grand-puppies (Blitz the German Shepherd and Lucy the mini-Dachshund) which belong to the daughter and her husband.  Plus there are all the cousins on Maddie's side of the family in Nebraska and Kansas.  We love our furry family!

Personal Record!!

Today was my 53rd birthday--a new personal record for longevity!  I have never been this far before!  That was cause for celebration and celebrate I did.  The family all gathered at my favorite steak house (Montana Rib and Chop House) to have a few beers and great steaks.  It was a great time had by all and I appreciate the family that came out--all the Keeners, Pattees (the daughter's in-laws), and Kelly who will a Pattee soon enough.  We had great beverages, food, and even better laughter around the table.  It was a great night to celebrate this milestone.  In fact, it was a pretty good day all in all.

I had lots of birthday greetings from many of my friends on Facebook--people who have spanned the last 30 years of my life.  I survived all of their greetings and teasing.  I received a lot of well wishes and a wonderful card from my fellow employees at the college where I work--the ladies we gracious while ribbing me on--it is nice to know that they care.  I got phone calls from my prodigal son in Fort Collins, Colorado--a call from my brother in Maryland even though he was in the hospital--and, I got to talk to my sister.  My younger brother called earlier this past weekend and sent his well wishes too.  I even got a nice write up on my daughter's blog--http://misscandacepk.blogspot.com/2011/05/big-53.html--it is nice to know that I did make an impression on her after all.  It was a pretty darn nice day!

I must admit that I am thankful that they did not drag out a cake with 53 candles blazing.  The cake would have melted.  People would have gathered around to roast marshmallows.  We could have had a pig pickin' party.  The fire marshal would have shut down the establishment.  My daughter doesn't think my heart could have taken it.  I would have had to use a fire extinguisher to put it out and that would have ruined the cake.  Yeah, I know, 53 candles is a heck of a lot of candles--we could have heated the house for a week with the heat thrown off them.  Instead I got a little cream de mint thingy with one candle and then got in trouble for blowing it out before they finished singing "Happy Birthday".  Oh well . . . it was my birthday!

I want to thank everyone who wished me a "Happy Birthday"--for the cards and gifts I received--and for the great time breaking bread and laughing around the table.  That was the greatest gift.  Thank you for making this a special day to celebrate this new personal record.

Just a quick side note: Can you imagine what it would be like for Jesus to have to blow out the candles on his birthday cake--someone said that it would be nearly impossible.  I think whoever said that did not understand who Jesus was, but still--over 2,000 candles!  I had a hard enough time blowing out the one this evening.  So, the question for the evening, can someone make a birthday cake so big that Jesus couldn't blow out the candles?  Oh, ye of little faith . . .

 

They never taught us about this in seminary!

Evil Computers

In both of my jobs--secular and religious--I use the computer a lot.  At times, in both, it is the cornerstone and foundation of everything I do.  For the most part I usually have no issues with the computers I work with at home or work . . . but there are those moments when I know that whatever evil lurks deep within those computers springs out to make my life a living hell.  I know that a computer is only as smart as the person who is running it, but I give my computers credit where credit is due--they are much smarter than me!

This afternoon I was working on an assignment in a "share point" program when disaster struck.  A "share point" program is one that allows various users to enter information into a central document and keep it safely stored for all to use.  That is the premise, but the "share point" program had never encountered a computer wreck like me before.  With one stroke on the keyboard I made over six months worth of hard work and documents disappear--POOF!

As I stared at the blank screen my heart dropped to the floor and fear streaked through my veins--this was not good.  There were going to be a lot of upset and angry co-workers.  The "flight or fight" gene kicked into overdrive and my first inclination was to boogie out before anyone found out.  I figured I would never come back.  But my conscience would not allow me to do that and I went forth to confess my careless sin.

To say the least my co-workers were fairly generous though concerned.  The IT person said that I didn't wipe out all the files, I just turned off the means to view it.  Within twenty minutes and lots of computer magic she had restored all the files.  There was great joy throughout the kingdom!  Especially for me.  Luckily I did this towards the end of the day and only had to put up with a little ribbing, but I will be reminded of this for a long, long time.

I hope that my computers have now gotten this out of their systems . . . that the evil has bedded itself for a while.  I will be a little leery of getting too confident around my computers as they seem to have a sense when I am getting too big for my britches.  I am just thankful for all those folks who work in IT--they are super heroes in my eyes as they have saved me more than once.  Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of computers--only IT knows, and if you give me enough time I will spring it loose!  Beware the evil of the computer!

Chasing the Clouds Away

And the Spirit shall lead us . . . as a follower of Jesus I have to put some stock into his words.  He told us that we--the followers--would be led by the Spirit.  On this Sunday evening I give credence to the Spirit and it reminded me of this song by the Moody Blues--The Afternoon: Forever Afternoon (Tuesday Afternoon).  Though the lyrics speak of Tuesday afternoon, it does not matter which day one plugs in there, they all work, and today the Spirit moves me.  It moves me as I contemplate the day that is ending and the week that is yet to come.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.

I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind,
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind,
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love,
If you'll just come with me and see the beauty of

Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.

Sunday evenings become a time of pausing, reflecting, and preparation as we take stock of the week that has just past and look towards the week that is to come.  Sundays have not always been the start of the week for me, but the culmination and end of the week.  Sundays have always been the climax for my week as it is the finale of what I do as a minister in the church.  Everything I do prior to Sunday builds towards that ending, that ending that is just the beginning for everyone else.  Thus it is that Sunday afternoons and evening become that contemplative, quiet time of reflection, discernment, and prayer--that time of listening to the Spirit.--that something that calls to me.

As the sun is setting I hear that something call to me--those voices speaking to me.  The work has been done, the message has been shared, and now the challenge is put forth for me--will I follow the Spirit or will I retreat?  

The Spirit played a significant role in my move to Montana.  I truly believe that I am here for a reason, but exactly what that reason is I am not sure.  There are times I wonder if I came to Montana on a lark, but in those moments of questioning and doubt the Spirit reminds me to be patient.  The Spirit works at the Spirit's pace and it is rarely at the pace any of us care for--we want it now!  Yet, the Spirit plods along often dragging us kicking and screaming.  I have had glimpses of why I think God wants me and the wife here in Montana.  The visions of what could be are quite exciting and exhilarating, but the path they point down look as if they have never been traveled down before.  It looks overgrown, dark, and scary--the path least traveled. Despite the fearsomeness of the path the Spirit seems to keep pushing and pushing in that unknown direction.  The visions always point to the end, but rarely allow me to see the journey between the start and the finish.  Thus it waits with a sigh.


In each of our lives there is something that calls to us--urging us to come.  There are gentle voices that we hear--urging us to come.  From where these come we are not certain for they are like the wind that blows--we know their presence but we know not where they come from.  We hear them and for a moment it causes us to pause and consider . . . 


. . . to consider chasing the clouds away.  Chasing the clouds away and finding that which makes us whole.  Yeah, Sunday evenings are kind of funny like that . . . to dream and hope.  There are worse ways to end one week and start another.  

Dandelions, Yard Work, and Lamenting

The rain finally stopped Wednesday afternoon.  Yesterday I finally got to mow the lawn for the first time since last autumn--it needed it.  So, yesterday and today was a day for yard work.  My favorite thing in the whole wide world--yeah, right!

As I was mowing the yard, I noticed that there sure were a lot of weeds and dandelions.  Which made me come to the conclusion that if it were not for the weeds and the dandelions I would have no yard to mow at all.  For that reason alone I need to be thankful for both.  Once you cut the heads off the dandelions no one can tell whether or not it is grass or weeds.  For that I am thankful.

A weed, which a dandelion is classified for most people, is just a plant that happens to be in the wrong place. I have a lot of plants that happen to be out of place.  It does not bother me as much as it seems to bother the rest of the neighborhood.  I think that the dandelion has a pretty flower and looks wonderful against the green grass.  My neighbors think otherwise, and because I want to be a good neighbor I have to take the attitude that dandelions are a nuisance and must be destroyed.

Thus it was that I started the yard work yesterday with a vengeance.  First, I mowed.  This takes a while to do--despite having a very small yard--because Maddie the Boxer wants to play Frisbee.  Every ten to fifteen steps I get to stop and throw the Frisbee.  Makes for a longer task, but it sure make her happy.  So, I mowed.  Then I got out the weed spray and began spraying.  Last year I took Round-up to the dandelions and made a major mess to my yard that I am still paying for this year.  My neighbors thought that I had some sort of blight in the yard, but it was just my stupidity.  My expectation was that today the weeds would be dead, but they just seem to laugh at my feeble attempt.  They thrive!  Damn weeds!

I actually enjoy yard work.  I enjoy mowing the yard--it is a sort of game for me.  I think of it as giving the earth a haircut--not a great one, but a haircut none the less.  I don't mind weeding once I get going, but I have found that Round-Up sure makes short work of weeding. The idea of yard work, especially since it involves two dogs, is not high on my list of objectives.  The scooping the poop alone makes me just cringe at having to do yard work.  Maybe if I could teach my two dogs how to clean up after themselves I would be more apt to get excited about yard work.  But . . . I do it.  I do it to keep my neighbors happy.

I appreciate dandelions for the beauty that they represent.  Who among you would disagree that the dandelion is not a beautiful plant--as long as it is not in your yard?  The problem with dandelions is that they like to seed and then spread themselves out to wherever they can go.  So far I think I have now infected most of the yards to the left and right of our house.  We are doing good!

So, here is what I think.  I think that if God had wanted grass to be two inches tall, God would have stopped it at two inches tall.  God wants it to grow.  It is we, humans, that seem to think that it should be two inches tall.  Me, well I kind of like the natural look.  Also, if God did not want us to appreciate the dandelions and weeds, God would not have put them in our yards.  That is not real popular in my neighborhood.  My deep down desire is to to either let my yard go, or to turn it under and pour green concrete,  At least with green concrete it gives the illusion that I care.

In the meantime I will do whatever it is that I have to do to keep the neighbors semi-happy. I will mow my grass.  I will spray my weeds.  But what I really want to do is to spread the "good news" of God's creation.  What better way of spreading the new than:

Evangelism at its simplest.  May you enjoy the beauty of this wonderful weather that we are experiencing in this Montana Spring or wherever you may be.

The Spitting Image

I have read the comic strip Luann for years and years, and I must admit that it is one of my favorites as it draws me into its comic strip soap opera.  I like the story lines and actually do want to know what is next--plus its humor is not bad at all.  But, if I am going to be honest with myself, I have admit that probably the real reason that I read the comic strip at all is because there is a deep seated connection--psychological, spiritual, or whatever.  Or, it could be that I have found the spitting image of myself in one of the characters.

Luann's dad is a cartoon caricature of me!  I look in the mirror and I see Luann's father--the hair line, the glasses, the body shape, even the attitude.  It's me!  What do you think:

 I guess it was an unfair question to ask--whether or not Luann's father looks like me, or vis-a-versa--especially since I have not posted a picture of myself with the blog.  But trust me--that's me.

I think that we all have some comic strip or cartoon character that reminds us of ourselves.  He or she is out there and deep down we identify with that character--we project onto that character.  I am curious to know who you think you look like when it comes to the comics.  I have found my spitting image--who is yours?