Too Bad

It's only Wednesday. Still, they're all over the soundtrack to Starter For Ten and I almost got Nathan to play it for the offertory on Sunday. So, sing along wherever you are...

I don't care if Monday's blue
Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too
Thursday i don't care about you
It's Friday I'm in love

Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday Wednesday break my heart
Thursday doesn't even start
It's Friday I'm in love

Saturday, wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate...

I don't care if Monday's black
Tuesday Wednesday heart attack
Thursday never looking back
It's Friday I'm in love

Monday you can hold your head
Tuesday Wednesday stay in bed
Or Thursday watch the walls instead
It's Friday I'm in love

Saturday, wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate...

Our Father

I've been thinking lately about God as our Father. I'm teaching at one of our church groups next week, and this has been on my mind, so that's what I'll talk about.

But you get a sneak preview while I find my way through.

The first thing I think of is that it's such a deep, rich analogy.

The second is, what if it's not an analogy?

Something C.S. Lewis talks about a lot (and Aristotle before him, but with different conclusions) is the way that the temporal often reflects the eternal... not because what we can't see right now is a shadow of what we can, but because what we have now is a shadow of what is to be.

I guess a good example of this is our desire to belong - to be part of an ethnic group, a nationality, a political party, a club, a church, or even a family. We want to be known, to be loved, to belong, and those are all good and natural longings. But we don't find their fulfillment in the here and now - to be deeply entrenched in the republican/demorcatic/green/whatever-Nader-is party will never begin to approach the kind of complete acceptance and "home" of being known and loved by our Creator. The means we have at our disposal now are temporary and inadequate, but the desire itself is much deeper, more permenant, and truer.

So here's the thing: becoming a father has changed me. What I know of love, of faith, of patience and care and hope are all worlds apart from what I knew before. And my understanding of how God relates to me and I to him has changed in very deep and dramatic ways, too.

But what if what I'm experiencing is not the final reality of what fatherhood is. What if this is the shadow - the analogy - and what my Father is to me is the reality.

What if?

Humo(u)r

I've realized that I've become afraid to use the "humor" label on my posts. Part of it may be that, in retrospect, I'm ashamed of using the American spelling (no offense, Americans). But I think that most of is that I'm a little concerned someone will get onto my blog and do a search on it.

Then they'll sit back, cross their arms, and read.

Unimpressed.

"I don't see what's so funny about that," they'll say, reaching for some more lemon rind. "Hurrumph."

On the other hand, if they're not expecting anything to be really very clever, even just a little bit of wit can be rather impressive.

So, if you've searched and just found this, I'm sorry. But if you keep digging, you never know what you may find.

Please Wait

I take a lot of relatively small aircraft - my usual commute to Lugano is on one that seats just over 50 people. As a rule, they let you put larger carry-on stuff outside the plane as you get on.. .then they load it up and unload it for you at the other end.

It's a pretty good deal. You don't have to carry it (or find space) on board, but you also don't have to wait for it at the baggage belt at the other end. But every time we land, they say the same thing, usually in three languages:

"We kindly ask you to wait patiently while your hand-luggage is being unloaded."

Now, I'm glad that they're willing to unload it. Really, I am. And from what I've seen, they do a pretty good job. I haven't heard of them missing any.

But why the announcement? I mean, if the stewardess would just stand there for a minute before opening the door, would people spontaneously rush forward? Would the guys at the front push her into the cockpit so we could figure out how to get that door open and the stairs down, to tear wildly across the tarmac? Or maybe people who had given stuff to the luggage guy at the other end would just not remember, "hey, it felt... heavier, before. Nah, I must have been imagining it..."

I like to talk - any of my friends will tell you. I even like listening. And, with people who are special to me, I can even talk about/listen to a whole lot of more or less nothing, and still be quite happy just to have the time and the contact, especially if snack are involved. But my relationship with the Darwin stewardess is (perhaps regrettably) not exactly in that category.


I wonder if I should say something?

British Nathan

He's back, and it's cool. For never considering myself much of a room-mate kind of guy, I sure like it when Nathan's in town. I drink more tea. I have more good conversations. I get an appreciative audience to show my progressing mix-downs to. The little chick likes to get him to read stories to her. And every once in a while I get to hear him play.

Very nice.

And I can't wait for the weekend. I know it's only Thursday, but I'm ready. I was ready yesterday, in fact.

In other news, I've installed a tea station at our "office" (in the client offices) in Lugano. There is a coffee machine on our floor, but it's one of those ones with terrible instant coffee - absolutely brutal. A kettle, a few cups, the hotel is kind enough to leave tea in the rooms that we can bring with and - voila - instant team spirit. It's cool.

Ummmmm.....

You know when you get to that point in a phone conversation where you don't really want to hang up, but you also don't have anything else to say? That's kind of where I'm at, now.



So, I guess, talk to you later?

The Wedding

Well, it was a busy weekend - insanely busy, actually. The little chick and I slept through most of a friend's birthday party on Sunday, even. But I have a full report on the wedding:

The ceremony was 90 minutes. That would seem like a long time, and since it was happening in three languages (not all in three, but it does add up). Here were the highlights:

1. The Bride (Priska) wore a red dress, and it was just stunning. At first, I couldn't believe it, but it really suited her... very dramatic, and with the flower-girls' orange dresses the color was really rich and deep. I loved it.

2. The music - we had a full band, a mix of French and English players, all of whom I have had the pleasure of playing with before, so it was a lot of fun. The acoustic drums were okay in the end. There were two things that made it just wonderful for me. First, Fred, the groom, told me that he loved it, and that he was really moved by the music. Second, I could hear this beautiful little voice from the back of the room after the songs were done... "Daddy?". *sigh*

3. The cortege - or something like that... it's a procession, where everybody drives slow and honks. You guessed it: two of my favorite things. Between having to tear down and pack up my drums, and wanting to get to the reception site early to be ready to shoot, I decided to skip it. Don't worry, everyone said, it's really easy to get to, and really simple to skip around the cortege route and take the highway directly. Yeah, right. John decided to join me, and we made a quick stop for a couple of burgers (music makes you hungry, in case you were wondering), took a good close look at the map, and decided that odds were pretty much certain we were going to get lost if we attempted it. So we turned around, headed back to the church, and found a family still there who was going to be heading up after stopping off at home to get their passports (welcome to Geneva... ceremony in one country, reception in another!). They let us follow them, which was good, because we would have been really, really lost.

4. The great part of the Swedish-style reception. Richard and Dorothy had kind of prepared me for this, but I was not ready for the full extent of it. There were some really fantastic speeches: my old friend Harald did his usual bang-up creative job, as did Mo (but it barely counts, since all Irish people are funny), and Fred's sister who is very much like he is... very tall, very thin, very smart, and very, very dry in the humor department - just brilliant.

5. The other part of the Swedish-style reception. It turns out that, at a Swedish wedding reception, everyone has to participate. Richard figures it's because they're very sentimental (so they usually end up talking about visits to great-aunt Clauthilde's house when they were 6, and other stuff that the rest of us had always wondered about but never thought to really ask about). I figure it's because of all the pickled fish. I mean, it has to take its toll somehow, right? Case in point: one of the couples that came up to "present" was made up of a woman who sang two Abba songs - one because the bride sings, and one because she just likes it. Then the man said that since the groom's sister is a doctor, he would do a skit about the Swedish medical system. He proceeded to mime (yes, mime) a kind of sloppy operation, apparently a parody of how good Swedish doctors - like the aforementioned groom's sister, sitting 8 feet away from him - are at their profession. Has nothing to do with the bride or groom, their marriage, or even weddings in general, and manages to offend the immediate family of the groom. How could that possibly go wrong? Thanks to this, the dance didn't even start until after 1. And that, kids, is past my bedtime, especially after spending the whole day playing, moving drums, taking pictures (see below) and pondering getting woefully, wonderfully lost in the French countryside.

6. The pictures. I took quite a few, and after editing out the dogs, I still have more than 400 usable shots. Here are a few I like...

Sound Check

So we had the sound check tonight for the wedding tomorrow. I carted my drums up out of the basement (for those who haven't experienced it, drums + stairs = bad combination), loaded everything into the car, got it over to the church, and unloaded and started setting up.

The sound guy came over and looked at me. "Do you have electronic drums?" he asked.

"Uhhh, yeah..."

He looked at my kit. A rather solid, maple, decidedly acoustic drum set. I decided to elaborate:

"These aren't them."

He looked really, really unimpressed. "I was told you had electronic drums. I don't have mics for these."

"Well," I said, "I do have electronic drums. But nobody asked me to bring them. So I'm playing these. Besides, the room isn't that large, I doubt we're going to need mics on the drums."

He continued to look unimpressed. "How long would it take you to get them?" he asked.

"You mean, on top of the hour and a half it's already taken me to get these? I guess about an hour and a half more if traffic cooperates. More like two and a half after I get these all back and put away."

I could see him calculating: bedtime - sound he wanted / what he had been told was going to happen (this is Switzerland, after all) * how much he actually really cared = "okay, don't bother then"

So I didn't. I'm going to go tomorrow and play my acoustic drums. And I will have a good attitude. And I'll enjoy the wedding. And I'll be nice to the sound guy, cause he was probably just feeling stressed out.

But, for now, I'm going to bed. Happy weekend, all.

I Should Have Known

As I was taking off yesterday with a colleague, we both noticed the plan dip a bit on take-off... a bit more than usual. We looked at each other. "I didn't feel any wind..." I said. And as we continued to climb, it got worse - sudden-ish turns, overcorrections.... some of it felt like wind, but some of what felt like the result of a rookie pilot.

When we landed and walked down onto the tarmac after saying good-bye to the stewardess and pilot, she started to laugh. I didn't get it, but I hadn't really engaged my brain to get from my seat out of the plane... it was just business as usual.

"Didn't you see?" she said.

"Uhhhh......"

"The pilot. It was a woman... now it all makes sense!"


Well... she said it. But I didn't argue.

It Doesn't Mean I'm Fussy

I cleaned out my bag this morning - the one I carry my PC in and (when I'm traveling for work) more or less everything else, too. It wasn't that messy... I had a couple old chocolates in the bottom, a few pieces of paper I don't need any more, and some stuff to put into different pockets, but it felt good to get it organized. Really good, actually. And I realized that the amount of pleasure I derive from organizing something insignificant like that is completely disproportionate to either the amount of effort required or the real-life impact of the activity.

That's pretty cool. It's like some kind of vending machine where you put in a buck and it spits out three.

Plus, now I know how to plan my weekend.

I'm Still Here, Wearing A Suit

Sorry for the big gap. I've been pretty busy, had guests, been a little sick, and looking after a little chick who has been more sick. I've been thinking about you, but haven't been writing.


I was in a meeting all day today with clients from the bank I'm working at, people from our project, and people from our R&D department. Our people - who usually dress casually for work at our own offices but dress up to go to the clients - brought the dress code up a few notches for the meeting.

The bank people, who are always in suits at their own office, dressed casually to come see us.

And yeah, I know: I talk a lot about clothes for a straight man. I've learned to accept it. But I think that next time, somebody really should coordinate this. I mean, is this the kind of meeting that requires a tie or isn't it? And how is it that we can't even agree on the "when I'm at my office I'll wear jeans and when I come to yours I'll dress up" thing? Aren't there rules about this somewhere?


And here's the other thing I think about suits in general: unless there are some of us who don't feel competent in choosing a non-uniform set of clothing in the morning, no one is going to feel more comfortable working in one than out of one. Yet we all wear them. Why? We wear them to impress them. They wear them to impress us. In the end, no one is really that impressed. Except my dry-cleaner.

I think suits should be saved for nice dinners; wearing them should be a special occasion. Work is everyday. It's normal. Why not go ahead and dress like it is? Otherwise, we men have nowhere to look to take it up a step other than a tuxedo.

And that's a pretty big step.

Blades Of Glory

Some say it sucks. I say it has Will Farrell.



Hector: "Hey, Jimmy"

Jimmy: "Hector? What are you doing here? You know I have a restraining order against you..."

Hector [laughing nervously]: "Oh that thing? [pauses]... You look great, Jimmy. You look amazing, and your hair rocks..."

Jimmy: "Thanks"

Hector: "You look so good... oh my gosh. Do you look at yourself? I totally want to cut off your skin and wear it to my birthday... it's coming up"

Jimmy: "Yeah, listen, it's good to see you Hector, but I'm really busy right now"

Hector: "I'm sorry, I'll cut to the chase. You've got to start skating again, Jimmy."

Jimmy: "What?"

Hector: "It's embarrassing stalking a has-been, you know what I mean? Look, I almost gave up on you. I started stalking that Ukrainian skater, you know, the one that looks like Elvis? I moved to the Ukraine. It was cold, and everyone had guns and smelled like soup."

Jimmy: "I sympathize with you Hector, I really do, but there's nothing I can do. I'm banned for life...."


You should see it. Preferably with me.

Ciao, Bello

I had a guy I work with in the bank pass me in the hall today. He winked and gave me the thumbs-up.


I love Italians.

The Jura

Here are some pics I got on the weekend. It was beautiful.

You can see the others here.

What A Great Weekend

The little chick and I went to a retreat with about 130 other people from our church this weekend, and it was fantastic. Amazing weather... eating comfortably in a short-sleeved shirt on a terrace in the mountains is pretty good for Switzerland in October. I got some good pictures, I think, but they are of the amazing fall colors, and so I'm pretty sure that none of them are going to really approach what it was that was forcing me to pull into every single lay-by to pull out my camera. Still, I'll get them up soon and you can take them for what they are.

Mostly, though, it was amazing just to know, once again, what a wonderful "family" I have here - so many people with nothing but love for me. It's amazing, and I hope I never forget.

The Set List

For Troy.

Set 1

1. Kiss Me (Sixpence None The Richer) - good tune, maybe a bit slow for a starter in retrospect
2. Somewhere Only We Know (Keane) - it rocks
3. Everybody's Gone To War (some Australian chick) - it really, really rocks. Love this song
4. Who Knew (Pink) - solid tune, maybe not the best fit for us, but fun to play
5. King of Pain (Alanis Morrisette acoustic version) - nice backup part for me to sing in this
6. Shiver (Natalie Imbrouglia) - kind of mellow, but it's a nice one
7. Life For Rent (Dido) - not my favorite tune, but I do get to sing in it
8. Torn (Natalie Imbrouglia) - nice, and people know it
9. What Took You So Long (Emma Bunton) - yes, former Spice Girl. But it's a hauling song
10. Radio (The Corrs) - nice guitar in this one

Set 2

1. I Don't Want A Lover (Texas) - good, straight-ahead rocker
2. Since You've Been Gone (Kelly Clarkson) - decent tune, I LOVE singing the "yeah, yeah" in the chorus
3. Sk8r Boi (Avril Lavine) - moves along pretty good, but makes my arms tired
4. Bend and Break (Keane) - another fun one to play, even if there aren't any BGV's
5. Starting Today (Natalie Immbrouglia) - why is it that I want to describe all of hers as "nice"?
6. Sand In My Shoes (Dido) - rocks pretty good, for Dido
7. Ironic (Alanis Morrisette) - people seemed to like this one - easy to sing along, I guess
8. Hunter (Dido) - not my favorite, but it has a nice grooving drum part
9. She Will Be Loved (Maroon 5) - love this tune, plus there's lot's of singing for me
10. Satellite (Natalie Imbouglia) - well... yeah, it's nice, too
11. So Young (The Corrs) - love the ending... nice harmonies on "yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"
12. Leave Me Alone (P!ink) - another rocker

Set 3

1. Behind These Hazel Eyes (Kelly Clarkson) - pretty fun to play, the drums are all over the place
2. Breathless (The Corrs) - hard not to love this tune
3. Wishing I Was There (Natalie Imbrouglia) - very groovy, with a fun gang backup in the chorus
4. Adia (Sarah Maclaughlin) - great drums in this one, plus lots of singing. Hooray!
5. White Flag (Dido) - okay tune, but I get to sing in the chorus
6. Counting Down The Days (Natalie Imbrouglia) - fun, but feels like I'm trying to hold back a team of wild horses to keep the tempo steady
7. Thank You (Dido) - not bad, but I think my BGV needs a bit of polishing in this one
8. Only When I Sleep (The Corrs) - slow, but it rocks. We skipped it, I think to move on to something quicker
9. Black-Eyed Boy (Texas) - motown-ish rocking kind of tune, not bad...
10. Steve McQueen (Sheryl Crow) - love this one... the drums haul, and I get to sing my heart out in the chorus... it's just right for my range - low enough that I can hit all the notes without having to worry about it, but high enough to make it feel like I'm working for it. I could play this all night...

So there you have it. There were a bunch of people taking pictures and video, so I'll see if I can get some of that up for your viewing pleasure...

Tonight's The Night

The Cover Story (you may know them as the MNB) debut. It's going to be good, I hope. And fun. Fun to play, fun to listen to. The songs will start at the right tempo; the backup vocals will be so on pitch you will find yourself wondering where the CD is hidden; the guitar will be neither too loud nor too quiet, with an aggressive yet pleasant tone. It will all go well.

And I will not - NOT - drop my sticks.

Thanks to all of you who have decided to come and cheer us on. I'd love to buy you each a drink, but I'm afraid we're not getting paid quite that much. And thanks, also, to those of you who weren't able to get flights lined up (yes, I'll try to give you more warning next time) and so have been encouraging me from a distance. I appreciate it, and promise good seats to all when the world tour rolls around...

They Make Me Proud

To be Swiss.

I Want (Part IV)

To run.

To sing like I don't have neighbours.

A great cigar.

The best shave ever.

To love with nothing held back.

To hit my snare so hard you blink.

To be pure.

To laugh with you.

To wear fun shoes more often.

To hear my little chick say "more?" in that beautiful, we've-been-playing-so-hard-I-can-barely-breathe voice.

Wisdom.