1133rd

I had the tremendous honor last night of saying the invocation and benediction at the community sendoff of the 1133rd National Guard transportation unit, who are heading toward their second tour of duty in Iraq.



I sat on the dais with a selection of dignitaries, including the Lieutenant Governor of our fair state, and the Adjutant General for the National Guard in this region. And after my closing prayer (read directly from the brand new Pastoral Care book, which arrived yesterday) I looked up and saw the eyes and cheeks, shiny with tears, of these uniformed men and women who had stood so correctly at attention during all the boring speeches.

They were so young, and so brave. And something in me broke open a little bit.

Breakfast this morning was cereal: generic raisin bran and generic grape nuts, with milk. Also, mango light yogurt and coffee.

horse racing

This morning, once again, the conversation on my NPR call-in show was on the topic "Can John McCain win?"

This is a useful conversation to have in small doses. And it is very useful to insiders and campaign workers. They need to have this conversation.

But the general public should only rarely be involved in this conversation. (Arguably it is useful during the primary season.) The question that most people should be concerned about is not "CAN win?" but "SHOULD win?"

Then (God-willing) we would talk about issues, leadership styles, relevant personal information, and such, rather than polling, leads, margins, and all the "objective" data that is only useful for self-fulfilling prophesies.

We are talking about meta-campaign stuff that is not actual democracy, but horse racing. And I am frustrated with it. Humbug.

I recognize that it is harder for media to maintain an image of objectivity when they report on qualifications and issues rather than horse-racing. But I wish we were talking about meaty things instead of fluff.

Anyway, back to the campaign for a few more weeks.

Breakfast today was yummy bread from a Wisconsin monastery: Sinsinawa Mound's Honey Wheat, toasted with butter, and their Large Cinnamon Loaf, toasted with butter. Also, a bit of generic egg substitute, scrambled with milk and microwaved in a Pyrex dish.

Bindi the tragic girl

I'm writing an especially ignorant blog tonight, O true believers. I've never even seen the show I'm going to talk about. But I have seen the commercials, and in today's drive-by culture that's enough, right?

Is anybody else bothered by this "Bindi the Jungle Girl" show? It's apparently an award-winning nature show on Discovery Kids starring Bindi Irwin. She's a cute little kid with pigtails and total innocence in the video I've seen.

Yet I can't watch a moment of the commercial without thinking of her father's tragic death. For Bindi is the daughter of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, who spent his life putting himself in alarming proximity to dangerous animals for the sake of entertaining video. And while filming a show he suffered a fatal stingray barb to the heart. Classic illustration of Pride, Fragility of Man Before Nature, Thinning the Herd, and all that sort of thing.

And I think about the fact that the guy had kids, and I get sad. And then I see that this show exists, and I wonder about the thought process involved:

Producer #1: Crikey! Bummer, right?
Producer #2: Eh, and a pity about the little girl.
Producer #1: I wish there was something that we could do for her.
Producer #2: Well, we don't know how to do anything but produce tragically hazardous Nature Gone Wild television programs.
Producer #1: Let's give her her own show, then! That'll make her feel better.
Producer #2: Sure, let's build the whole show around her, so that she is absolutely indispensible. And if she ever throws a tantrum on the set, or has feelings about the show that she doesn't know how to deal with, we can just threaten to film a stingray episode!
Producer #1: That's a good one! How do you think she'd look with a boa constricter around her neck?



For lunch I had deli ham and deli balogna on Wonder Bread with mustard, butter, and mayo. Also, leftover cornbread. And a Diet Coke.

p.s. Slightly less ignorant: I looked it up, and apparently Bindi began filming the show before her father's tragic death. Which makes it a bit less creepy, but how could she go on with the thing? And how can all these people make their profit by a show where all the economic incentive is to put this girl closer and closer to the tragedy of her father, while on camera? And if she lets her pain get to her, and quits the show, then she is supposed to feel like a washed-up celebrity? What else can she do with her life at this point?

I'm also reminded of the creepy video of Steve Irwin feeding a crocodile while holding his infant son with one arm. Allegedly the child was in no danger.