Really, Really Good-Looking

The keyboard guy at church this morning was wearing a piano-key necktie. I don't know if it really was invented by the guy from Frankie Goes To Hollywood, but it was pretty great, I thought. My only regret was that he was playing a traditional keyboard, rather than a keytar.

And if these references (or the title) confuse you, ask someone who's seen Zoolander.

The other interesting thing this morning was that the pastor was talking about how rare it is to find a friend who really cares for you, who is faithful and honest and open and caring and interested in your real well-being, how you are doing spiritually. He was talking about people who are really there for you when things go wrong, people who care enough to stick with you, who really, really love you. People you can depend on, people you can trust, people you can live your life with, no matter what comes.

At first I was a bit confused, because I don't think those people are rare at all... I have a lot of those kinds of friends. And then I realized... I am just very blessed. So for those of you who fit that description in my life: thank you.

Happy Birthday...

... Little Chick. I love you.

Sammy Or David?

Yes, I'm a child of the 80's. But walking around in the sunshine listening to Panama followed up by Why Can't This Be Love is just a beautiful thing, no matter who you prefer.

Slowing

...to a crawl, in terms of posting. I've been busy - time with friends, time with family, and even managed to get in some hockey and wings. But have a good Christmas, everybody. Consider this a big hug from me.

The Highest Compliment

... in the little chick's arsenal is, "nice". It may not sound like much, but when she says "Awwww, nice Daddy..." it melts my heart. It's not a descriptor I would particularly welcome from the world at large, but from her... it's different.

We had a couple wonderful daddy-daughter-days this weekend. A lot of playing and singing, a lot of laughing, but my favorite part was a lot of cuddling.

One of the things I'm enjoying about this age is that she rarely stalls when I'm putting her to bed, and when she does, it's pretty transparent. "Go out there? Play with toys?". She hasn't yet decided to use the "I'm thirsty" weapon, and I'm glad.

So last night, when she told me she was still hungry, I was happy to get her a granola bar just to fill in any cracks left by dinner. And, while she seemed to enjoy the granola bar, I don't think it's what she really wanted. She cuddled in on my lap, and, as she ate, turned her head right into my shoulder and put her arm - granola bar still in tow - around me. And she just stayed there. And I don't know how it may impact her sleeping habits, long-term, but making my daughter feel beyond any doubt that she is loved and treasured is a whole lot more important to me than getting her to bed 15 minutes sooner. So I cuddled her, and it was good for both of us.

It made me wonder - what is it in that physical proximity that is so powerful, that she seeks it out and longs for it and that I want so deeply to give it to her? And how is it that, in the love I have for her, and she has for me, holding and being held can be so similar and yet so different from how it is in romantic love? I don't understand it... but I know it's important. And so does she - I can tell, that's part of what "nice Daddy" means.

The Wedding, Part II

Well, I had a chance to show the wedding pictures I took to the bride and groom this week.

They liked them. That makes me happy.

I was reflecting over the last couple of days about the joy I feel in creating, but how it is amplified so much when I can share it. It's funny - I used to think I was in introvert; I used to feel pretty content living a very internal life. But I've discovered that even a very solitary kind of experience - taking pictures of wildflowers at dawn in a deserted park - is not truly solitary for me.

I love the sight that inspires me to try and capture that beauty in the first place, even when my eyes are the only ones that see it. I love the activity of waiting for the light, finding the angle, getting the focus, and making the shot. I love the feeling that comes when I look at it and know that, somehow, what I have is more than a reproduction of what touched me, but that the beauty is truly there, and that, sometimes, it's even magnified in the act of being captured.

But what I love the most is sharing it. I love it when a picture or song or piece of writing moves someone... I want to be a creator, but not just a creator. I want to be a participant in people's lives, and whether it is through a talk, a meal, or a piece of art, that's what I'm really longing for.

And sometimes I'm lucky enough to get it.

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...

Thanks For Playing

Hey, thanks for reading along, as my friend's dad used to say. And I want to say this without being facetious at all: I really appreciate the comments. When I started, I used to lie awake at night, wondering (like a DJ on the 2-5 AM shift) if there was anybody actually out there. Well, not really, but still - it means a lot to me that you not only take the time to check in and see what I have to say, but that you say something, too.

So, thanks.

Oh, and I can tell a few of the "Anonymous"-es apart by what they say and how they write. But if I get you mixed up with someone else on occasion or fail to recognize that you're new, I'm sorry. No hard feelings?

Happy Birthday To Me

I have the best friends and family in the world. Yesterday was my birthday, and I got together with a few people last night to celebrate. Honestly, I wanted to write some today about it, but I am feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the calls, the emails, the SMS's,the thoughtful gifts and wishes with them, and being able to spend some time in the evening with some of you. This doesn't happen to me often, but I can't begin to put it into words.

I am blessed beyond what any reasonable person could hope for, and while this has been a good occasion to mark the passing of another year and looking forward to what's ahead, it has turned much more into an occasion to really think about and appreciate the people in my life who love me in so many different ways.

So, thanks.

Ode To A Beer Glass

I broke my favorite beer glass. It was beautiful: so thin you could barely feel it, with a short stem, and just the right size to hold a half-liter (if I poured it properly). I only had one like this, too. So, I guess it's time to go glass shopping. And I like shopping for glassware - believe me - but this will be kind of like getting a new puppy. Sure, we all like visiting the puppy farm, but the new one just never seems to quite replace the one we loved and lost.

So, tonight I raise a toast:

Oh, beer glass, oh beer glass,
How I shall miss your gentle presence.
The way you held my beer for me,
Singing your song of subtle resonance.

You never once have failed me,
Holding stout, wheat beer, or bitter,
Though many cans have come and gone,
In summer, fall, and winter.

You captured scents and gave me hints,
Of the brewer's secret art.
You cast the light of amber grace,
Capturing my joyful heart.

And so I shall remember you,
With eyes so slightly teary.
May you rest forever, friend,
Chilled and foamed and beery.

*sniff*

I Feel Like A Spring

It's a gorgeous day and I'm tired and I'm sick but I feel so alive and happy that I'm almost about to burst. So, since you can't hear me sing from where you are, in celebration of spring (which is here in my little world, if not the world-at-large) here are some pictures I took in the mountains of very, very tiny flowers.