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disabled-queen-hc-blog · 5 years ago

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A vent piece about a not so talked about side of Autism and something I’m struggling with lately. Angsty.

John awoke to the lovely sound of his alarm clock softly singing the Adventures of Winnie the Pooh theme song. He couldn’t help but to smile and hum along as the lull of sleep faded away from his eyes.

He let it play it’s tune as he stretched out his limbs, an array of cracks and creaks echoing through the empty room. With a big yawn, he sat up and pressed a button on the alarm, shaped like the silly old bear’s head. John let out a content sigh, looking around his bed at all his stuffed animals strewn about chaotically. He wondered if they all slept well as he did.

With a bit of effort, he got out of bed and wobbled over to his bathroom, rubbing eyes and yawning some more. After a quick trip to the loo, he set out on washing his mouth. His toothbrush was bright pink with hello kitty on the handle. It wasn’t his first choice, but he was quite fond of the cat too. With a strawberry flavored toothpaste, mint tasting way too strong, he brushed his teeth, a task he didn’t like to do.

Spitting into the sink, he rinsed his mouth, his head bobbing back up into place. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Wrinkles on his forehead. Grey growing well past his temples. John quickly exited the bathroom, his stomach grumbling, hopefully from hunger and not embarrassment.

He put on his house slippers, Mickey Mouse of course, and hurried over to the kitchen, ready to prepare himself the same breakfast he’s had for nearly 40 years. Cheese on toast with a cup of milk. Even after decades, the staple food never grew old.

John sung Part of Your World quietly to himself as he slapped on a slice of cheddar onto the toast simmering in the pan, a smile tweaking at his lips. He found breakfast to be one of the high points of his day. It was the few parts of a regular day he had all to himself. No one to bother him. No expectations. Just him and his toys to keep him company until the afternoon. He laughed when his voice cracked at the climax of the song.

With a plate of warm toast and a cold cup of milk in hand, John went to the living room, setting everything down on the floor before turning on his telly. Saturday morning cartoons were on. He heavily preferred his Disney VHS’s to whatever the BBC was playing, but the cartoons weren’t half bad. Munching on his toast, he happily rocked as he watched.

It was 11am when the phone rang. John frowned, not wanting to set down his Legos. He was very much enjoying lining them up for the 4th time in a row. He was working with just the animal Legos this morning, something he didn’t do often.

Pouting, John got up to grab the phone, mumbling a somewhat pleasant “Hello?”

“Deacy!” an excited Roger screeched on the other end of the phone. John cringed at how loud the blond was.

“Oh, hi, Roger.”

“Mornin’ John! Hey, me and Brian were getting together this evening. There’s this new restaurant that just opened up. Imported wines. A live band. Sophisticated as all hell. You want to come?”

John’s nose crinkled up the more Roger talked. Nasty wine? Weird unpredictable food? Music he didn’t care for? And a suit and tie requirement? No thanks.

“That sounds stuffy,” John said honestly.

“You could use some stuffy in your life, mate. Come on. You can bring some of your fluffy friends if you’d like,” Roger said, a pleading lilt in his voice.

John shrugged to himself, a hand going into his hair to pull out a few strands, a nervous habit of his. “I don’t know. It sounds um…” Adult-y. “Like a lot for me, you know. Maybe we can do brunch or something soon.”

“Ah, alright, Deaks. Don’t say I didn’t invite you!” Roger said, disappointment in his tone, not that John would catch it. It wasn’t obvious enough because Roger expected that answer. John was never fond of refined things. Roger still tried after all these years.

“Yeah. Sorry. Bye bye, Rog.”

“Bye, John.”

John hung up, an anxious hand rubbing his chest. He tried to stop the bad thoughts that started to bubble in his head by throwing himself back into lining up his Legos, but it didn’t work.

He tried lining up his plushies on his bed, but the thoughts started to drip like cement into his chest.

He tried watching Snow White, but the thoughts began to feel like spider webs and char in his lungs.

He broke down, running into his bathroom, the quietest and darkest place in his house, slamming the door shut behind him.

Curled up on the cold tiles, as the tears began to pour down his face, his brain assaulted him with words.

Delayed.

Spaz.

Man-child.

Retard.

Delayed.

Stupid.

Lagging.

Delayed.

John sobbed, his hands flying to either side of his head, hitting himself to make his thoughts go back to normal.

You’ve got the brain of a 10-year-old stuck in a 39-year old’s body. It’s pathetic.

The people around you only pity you.

You’re not a failure to launch. You’re a failure to thrive.

It was cute when you were 19. Now you just look pitiful.

Have you even tried to act your age?

Your mother likes your sister better. She’s a proper adult. Married with kids. Working.

You need a babysitter to make sure you don’t starve or die.

It’s sad.

You’re an embarrassment.

You’re not a man. You’re a child.

John pressed his forehead to the floor, his chest aching with how hard he was crying. As more and more painful truths vomited themselves into his mind, he could only sink under their weight.

He tried to ignore it. And for a long time, it was easy to ignore. The words the therapist said to him.

“You’re developmentally delayed, John. You might not ever catch up. You might be stuck at a certain developmental age.”

At 15, it’s not too noticeable. 20, people just think you’re not one to take yourself too seriously. At 30, there must be something wrong with you. At 40, you’re a lost cause. A burden. On society, your friends and family and more importantly, yourself.

And despite what anyone said, it was true. John looked like an adult, but he didn’t have much going on upstairs. He couldn’t talk taxes or even pay his own. Doing laundry was always meltdown worthy. Wine tasted gross. The word sex made him giggle and the act was unimaginable. McDonald happy meals were a real treat and toys were rewards.

No matter how much the people around him said otherwise, he was a child. And it killed him. It hurt. The lack of maturity was blinding. The delay unable to be hidden. He was a walking freakshow and despite his best efforts, he was thoroughly stunted.

He wanted to be like his friends. So badly. Go to clubs with Freddie and not feel scared. Drink with Roger and not gag at the first sip and order a soda instead. Hell, he’d take sleazing around like Brian if it meant he’d be a real man.

But he was just a little boy. Trapped in a perpetual childhood that not even humiliation could wake him up from.

He liked the kid’s menus. And he liked watching Sesame Street. And he liked when his aides and carers came over and took over. He was a kid, through and through. It was only a shock because his body dare betray him by growing up, leaving his brain behind.

It wasn’t just embarrassing. It was isolating. He didn’t get along with adults. They didn’t understand him, and he didn’t understand them. It was a miracle the rest of Queen even tolerated him. He preferred children but one could see how bad of a look that was. So, who else did he have beside his Lego figures and his teddy bears?

His own mother coddled him, which felt both wonderful and shameful. He wasn’t a child. But he was. But he wasn’t.

John raked his fingers through his hair, tugging painfully at his scalp, his knees pulling up under him, a subconscious need to be small.

No therapist really understood the plight he went through. They all told him that it was okay. He was fine. Nothing to be ashamed about. But how easy was that to say when you weren’t a middle-aged man who needed a night light to sleep? Or a grown man afraid to cross the road without a real adult’s hand to hold?

Nobody understood. Their reassuring words fell flat when it came to the reality around him. John was delayed and the world looked down on him for that.

He was like Peter Pan without a safe place to run to, surrounded by other people who too could not grow up.

It hurt.

It hurt all the time.

Every time he colored a coloring book, he knew he should be drinking a beer besides a wife who was expecting another kid. He knew he should be ordering filet mignon rather than chicken nuggets. He knew he should be so much more and so much better than he was.

John laid flat on the floor; his eyes physically unable to produce more tears. With all those thoughts jabbing at his skull, all he could do was throw himself to the floor and cry like a child. Even knowing he wanted more for himself, he couldn’t get up and do it.

He sniffled and hiccupped, his head pounding from how deeply he had been wailing.

All of these thoughts were too much for a child. Too big and scary. Complex and refined.

He sat up and slowly got up, his knees cracking as he did so. Without another whimper he went back to his room, crawling underneath his blankets, into the embrace of many furry friends. He closed his eyes, hugging a purple elephant to himself and prayed he’d be finally big tomorrow. An adult. All caught up. A prayer he’d been reciting for years.

He brought the elephant to his face, nuzzling the soft fabric. He wondered if the elephant would take a nap with him too.

#r slur #ableist slurs #john #autistic!john #developmentally delayed!john

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thatfairyfangirl · 6 years ago

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True Colors Chapter 17

You sat in the corner of the Starbucks with half a smile on your face as you watched Ali make crass jokes, you enjoyed the fact that your friendship with her had been growing ever since her and Warren got together...You couldn’t believe when she told you that she was actually envious of you. She’d been at the game for a long time now and there you were making all these waves just being yourself. You loved her for saying that, for being so supportive ever since the dark hell you went through.

“How much you want to bet that by tomorrow we’re both going to be on TMZ rumored as dating?” She suggested she winked at you, pulling the first genuine laugh out of you since you got home.

“Hey there’s that smile!” Bucky beamed down to you as he came to sit by your side with a fresh cinnamon dolce latte for you to sip on. His metal wrapped around your shoulder as he tugged you in to kiss your forehead lightly. “And you better not start any rumors like that. Poor girl’s been through enough.”

“You starting trouble again?” Warren’s firm hands came to rest on the punk rocker’s shoulders, his wings tucked tightly behind his back but still far from hidden. The two looked so different, an angel and a rock star.

“Always babe.” She teased as she leaned her head back looking for a kiss.

“Wouldn’t do much anyway. I’m going on Good Morning America this weekend to promote the album,” you paused turning to Bucky, “if it's alright with you I’d like to at least mention us?”

You watched as Bucky’s smile brightened, his oceanic eyes sparkling as he dove in to kiss you deeply. “Of course its alright Doll.”

“What the hell? How come I never get invited to those fucking shows?” Ali asked with a playful smirk.

“Because you can’t watch your language. Obviously.” You teased back with a chuckle, feeling more and more like your old self as you surround yourself with friends and the one you loved so very much.

“So what are you two going to do for Valentine's day?” Warren asked, looking to shift the subject to something much lighter.

“What’s Valentine's day?” Bucky asked looking lost as his eyes scanned the shocked looks the small group gave him. The lost puppy dog look in his eyes broke as he looked onto your sad face, giving you a reassuring smile he pulled you in close. “Oh Doll I’m kidding! I’ve got something special planned, don’t worry.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m sorry Sergeant Barnes but it would seem the wait list for Sushi Zo hasn’t cleared up yet.” Your eyes gently pried open as you rolled over to find Bucky pacing back and forth in his room, arguing with the disembodied robotic voice of FRIDAY, door still wide open. It hasn’t become uncommon for the two of you to just pick one of the two of your rooms and just share for the night...honestly you couldn't think of the last time either of you slept alone...well before the kidnapping, definitely. You COULDN’T sleep without him after that.

“Well can you see if any other sushi places have any openings? Tonight has to be perfect.” You smiled as you ran your fingers through your hair, watching him fret over tonight, loving that he remembered that sushi was your favorite.

“Going to be asking any big questions tonight Sargent?” He froze at the AI’s question. Eager to hear the answer you leaned over the bed, waiting impatiently for his answer...right up until you ran out of bed to lean over and you tumbled to the ground.

“Oh Doll you weren’t supposed to wake up yet!” He chuckled as his attention drew over to you.

“Answer the robot Barnes.” You teased flipping your rainbow hair back as he came to help you up.

“Not tonight Doll.” Okay so you may have known the answer to that one a mile away...You two hadn’t even gotten to the fun part about sharing a bet together yet...Besides, you were still sure he’d get bored with a mutant eventually.

With a smile you reached up to give him a soft sweet loving kiss, letting your tongues dance together as you felt his metallic hand sneaking its way under the back of your shirt to rake up and down your bare back in that way that drove you wild. “Don’t worry about the fancy reservations sweetheart.” You offered with a smile, looking to make this day as easy as possible for him. “As much as I like sushi I think you forget that I didn’t grow up with all this fame and fortune nonsense...or the free access to Stark funds like I have now.”

“Oh god Doll please don’t say you’re going to try cooking again.” He teased as you both drew in closer to each other with playful hits and tickles. “I’m pretty sure you were about two steps away from us having to call that Doctor Strange guy.” He laughed as he found just the right spot to tickle to get you to squirm.

“And what is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you summon demons when you cook.” He scooped you up as you attempted to swat away his hands. “You gave Vision food poisoning and his stomach isn’t even real.” He added flinging you over his shoulder to take you to get some breakfast as you yelped playfully. “FRIDAY is there anywhere with reservations open I don’t care if I have to take the quinjet to get her there this girl deserves a nice dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

“What’s wrong with just going to McDonalds? No reservation required, there won’t be a hoard of cameras…” You suggested as you rested your arms on his back, your head in your hands, accepting your fate of being carried like a sack of potatoes...at least it was a great view from the back.

“I said GOOD meal.” He put extra emphasis on the word good.

“You know I’m going to pester you all day about this. It’s Valentine's day….aren’t you supposed to give me what I want?”

Bucky craned his neck to look at you draped behind him, arching a brow with a smirk. “Oh I know what you want,” his bionic arm swatted at your prominently displayed rear, “don’t worry Doll.” The tone he used told you that he wasn’t talking about the food. Your hair swirled shades of pink as your mind raced at what he was insinuating.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Oh look! We’re the happy meal toys!” Bucky chuckled as he pointed to the display of what toys were featured in the happy meals this month, blissfully unaware of the girls watching him with a more wanting eye than he was used to...You, of course noticed as you wrapped your fingers around his, displaying for all to see that he was yours.

“Oh I’m so getting one!” You giggled excitedly as you bounded over to the counter to order. “I want a cheeseburger happy meal with a large strawberry shake and an extra fry please.” You shot Bucky a triumphant smile as he ordered his number 1 with a coke and paid for the food. “I told you I’d get what I want.” You added as you prodded at his muscled shoulder.

“Yeah you’re a punk.” He hooked the arm around you, pulling you into a deep loving kiss. “But I-” He paused looking down into your eyes, losing the nerve to say what he wanted. “I’m with you to the end of the line Doll. Now come on, night’s not over yet.” With food firmly in hand he lead you through the lights of the city, letting them comfort you in the way only light could, leading you to a hotel overlooking Times Square.

~~~~

Bucky smiled triumphantly as he watched your eyes sparkle with wonder as you opened the door, nearly dropping the little paper bag of food. “How did...When did you have time to set all this up? We’ve been together all day.” You felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in close to kiss your neck, nuzzling into it lovingly.

“Don’t worry about it Doll.” He whispered with a kiss to the back of your ear as he lead you inside, realizing he hadn’t planned passed this point once the door was closed.

You rushed over to the window, throwing back the curtains to take in the view of the city twinkling in the dark like stars. Not too far off you could see the bright glowing A of your home, only a short walk away but you couldn’t feel any further from it than you did now. “No FRIDAY, no Steve, no Tony.” as you spoke you set your dinner on the small table provided, pulling out the greasy food, “...goddamnit.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he sat next to you, wrapping his metallic arm around you, knowing how much it comforts you. “What’s wrong Doll? Did they get your order wro-” You pulled out of the bag a small plastic Ironman toy as you held back laughter at the irony of it all. “Oh!” He tried his best not to laugh as well as he plucked the small toy from your hands. “Well Doll, you’ll have to eat before you can play with the toy.” He teased as he began to snack on his fries, not entirely sure if he really wanted the burger, but knew he should probably eat something.

Once the food was gone you picked up the cheap plastic toy, removing it from it’s wrapper with a sigh. “Why couldn’t they have given me the Bucky one? I’d love a little Bucky.”

“I can’t believe we were even in that little Avengers toy display!”

“Face it, ever since Detroit you’re down right popular! You should have seen the girls swooning over you while we were in line.” He raised a brow unable to believe anyone would swoon over him, not like this. Hell, he felt lucky you were even with him. “Those boys back at the tower aren’t the big dogs in the yard anymore.” He smiled, amazed that after all this time you were still able to make him blush. “I’m Tony Stark” You said, giving a bad Tony impression as you hopped the toy over to Bucky, moving it up his arm imitating the static plastic figurine walking, “and girls have crushes on you bigger than my ego.” You could feel the muscles of his arm twitch under his shirt as the toy moved over the inside of his elbow, a snort of a laugh being stifled telling you that it tickled….so he was ticklish!

“Let me see that.” He chuckled as he grabbed for the toy.

“Ahh! No!” You cried out playfully as you snatched it away from him. “I can’t be away from him! Who knows what kind of trouble he’d get into! Little Tony needs me!” You joked as Bucky’s fingers tickled at all the spots he’s found over the past few months to make you laugh and squirm. Turning to retaliate, tickling him in return, though he was less apt to squirm...something you blamed whole-heartedly on the serum that made him the super-soldier he was.

You both smiled brightly as you wrestled for the toy, giggling like kids until Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close for a long passionate and wonderfully distracting kiss that allowed him to pluck the toy from your fingers. “I think little Tony will be just fine without us for a while.” He whispered before tossing the plastic onto the table before lifting you up into another kiss, passion growing every passing moment as you lead each other to the bed for a night of slow soft loving passion without interruption from the rest of the team...for once.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #Avengers #avengers x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #Winter Soldier #winter solider x reader

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gracewithducks · 5 years ago

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Wonder (Luke 2:1-7) - Sunday School Stories #13, preached 12/1/2019

Almost a year ago, one of my husband’s friends told Mike about the great deals his family had found at Niagara Falls in Canada over American Thanksgiving. Because it’s out of tourist season, and because Canadian children and workers don’t get a break for an American holiday, the prices and the crowds are both pretty low. Mike said, “Why don’t we go to Niagara Falls for Thanksgiving next year?”

I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes. I may have laughed in his face. Because Niagara Falls – in November – with children… all I could imagine were all the ways things could go wrong. It could be frigidly cold. It could rain the whole trip. We could get snowed in and not be able to go at all. Our kids might look at the waterfalls, shrug their shoulders, and say, “Meh. What else you got?” - - and we might not have a good answer.

But Mike was persistent. Our girls were, at that moment, fascinated with waterfalls; they’re growing quickly, to the point where we no longer have to travel with strollers or plan around naptimes. We looked at prices. We discovered all kinds of indoor back-up options. And we booked a hotel we would never, ever, ever have been able to justify splurging on without the off-season deals – a hotel overlooking the Falls. We made a countdown calendar, and our kids have been crossing off the days until our trip ever since before Labor Day.

Finally, finally, it was time to go. Our girls were nervous about crossing over into another country, only to find that Ontario, Canada looks an awful lot like Michigan. We drove past farms and forests, and lots of wind turbines, and strange foreign restaurants and shops with names like “Home Depot” and “McDonalds.” Our ten-year-old was pretty excited when we saw our first sign for Shoppers, the store mentioned in the musical Come From Away, and our five-year-old was excited with every Canadian flag we saw.

And finally we started seeing signs for Niagara Falls. We could see the towers of hotels rising on the skyline. We could see the mist rising from the Falls, and the girls rolled down their windows to see if they could hear the water’s roar. We checked into our hotel, rode the elevator to the tenth floor, walked into our room, and the girls immediately ran to the window.

Their jaws dropped. There really is no way to prepare yourself for the Falls: they are just so big; there is so much water, rushing, pouring, constantly, unendingly, more and more and more. And the mist gives a sense of magic and wonder to it all.

Our oldest looked. And looked. And looked. She excitedly pointed out to her sister the Horseshoe Falls, and the American Falls, and the little Bridal Veil Falls in between; she pointed to the Rainbow Bridge, and the wrecked ship which has hovered above the falls for over a century. And she said, with a contented sigh, “I don’t think I could ever get tired of that view.”

And then she said, “Can I watch something on the iPad?”

And we all started laughing. It became a joke this week; every time we returned to our room, one of us would look out the window, and say, “I’ll never get tired of that view… I wonder what’s on TV?”

There we were, on the brink of one of the wonders of the world – there we were, with all the people we loved most in the world – there we were, in a place people travelled from the world over to see – in a place where explorers would fall down and pray in terror – in a place where kings and queens have walked, where daredevils dreamed the impossible – there we were, and it was amazing… but it was also amazing how quickly we just got used to that beautiful site.

“I don’t think I could ever tired of that view… I wonder what’s on TV?”

How quickly we lose our sense of awe; how quickly we take even the most incredible wonders for granted. I remember the first time I ever heard of electronic mail; I was amazed by the idea that I could send a message to someone and they could see it immediately. But now many of us use email daily without a second thought. I remember when our family got our first remote control for the television, and I was intimidated by the idea that you could change the channel without even standing up. And I remember our first VCR, the novelty of being able to record a program and watch it later. These days, my husband can set the football game to record on our DVR from his touchscreen pocket telephone; we don’t have to be in the house or even in the country at the time. And speaking of phones, when I was a kid, video phones were science fiction right out of the Jetsons or Star Trek – and now it stuns me to realize that my children will never remember a world where video phone calls weren’t a thing.

And we just take it all for granted. We don’t think twice about the once unimaginable wonders around us. Machines that wash our dishes and dry our clothes. Groceries delivered right to your door. Flying machines and even a car that could travel hundreds of miles in a day were once inconceivable.

I don’t think I could ever get used to those wonders, we say… and then we turn around and ask, what’s next?

And nowhere do we see it more than every year at Christmastime. And I’m not even talking about the kids who count down the days until Christmas morning only to be bored with their new toys after five minutes and forget them entirely after five days… no, I’m not just talking about stuff. I’m talking about the story of Christmas itself.

We hear the story every year; we know it so well that we take it for granted:

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken… and everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David… He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn child, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

We know the story: a Caesar, and a census; a little town, a man, a woman, and a baby in a manger. We wait for weeks every year to hear the story again; to sing the carols, to light the candles, to bask in the glow – and then we walk away, asking, “What’s next?”

We know the story; we know it so well, maybe too well – so much so that we can shrug our shoulders, and say, “I’ve been there, and seen that; I wonder what’s on TV?”

We can become numb to even the most amazing wonders – and this story is one. This is no ordinary story. This is the story of God entering into the world. This is the story of a God who so loved the world that God just could not stay away. This is the story of God entering into the world – not with fireworks and fanfare, but so quietly that, if you blink, you might miss it. This is the story of a God who surprises us, the story of a God who shows up in the lives of people who are being buffeted and shaped by kingdoms and powers out of their control.

While everyone is looking at Caesar, God is looking to the ordinary people. While everyone is bustling to arrive first, God is looking towards the latecomers, the ones who show up when there seems to be no more room.

There is a lot on our to-do lists for the month to come: shopping, wrapping, decorating, baking, travelling, taking pictures, sending cards, making calls… But my hope and my prayer is that we will take some time to enjoy the view, to remember what it is that brought us here in the first place. The story of Christmas isn’t about the presents or the decorations: it’s about a God who surprises us, who shows up in the times and the places we least expect it. Where is it, that God would surprise us today? Where are the mangers, where children have no bed? Who are our neighbors, whose lives are thrown into disarray by governments and laws beyond their control? Who are the strangers, looking for shelter, looking for a friendly face? Who are the people outside, longing for a place to belong?

Do we see them? Do we look? And do we believe that Christ is still being born, that God is still showing up, in humble and surprising ways today? We tend to associate this story with Christmas Eve candlelight services, but the story of Christmas is about as far away from stained glass and organ music and new clothes by candlelight as you can get. The story of Christmas is about a God who shows up in real life, in the messy and difficult stuff of our every day.

I want to encourage us to make a different kind of to-do list this year. And put on your list things like: smile at your cashier; over-tip your server on purpose, even if they’re having a bad day; donate to the giving tree; give non-traditional presents;

volunteer in the community; bake a pie for your neighbor; buy coffee for the person behind you in line; make it a point to compliment someone every day; donate pet food or old towels or blankets to the animal shelter; offer to babysit for some exhausted parents; visit a nursing home; donate new socks and underwear to those in need; volunteer to serve meals to those who are hungry; bring new coloring books and crayons to the children’s hospital; shovel your neighbor’s walk, or if you hire somebody to plow you out, ask them to do the rest of the street while they’re there; write another letter or make another call telling our leaders to stop separating families and get kids out of detention camps this Christmas; ask a family with a loved one in the service how you can help make their season brighter; pay for someone else’s groceries; invite your neighbor to share a meal with you – do whatever you can each day to find a way to show God’s love and bring hope into the world.

The good news is, just like the waterfalls which never stop, which keep flowing and flowing, noticed or unnoticed, appreciated or not, night and day, season after season, year after year – God’s love keeps flowing and flowing, and God keeps showing up; hope keeps being born into the world. The good news of Christmas isn’t just about a story that happened long ago; it’s the good news that God is still being born into the world in unexpected and surprising ways.

My hope and my prayer is that we won’t grow numb, that we won’t grow weary, that we won’t look away. May we have eyes to see Christ in the world this holiday season, and may we have hearts that never tire of seeking God’s presence and sharing God’s love.

O God, let your love roll over us like thundering waters; let your justice pour out around us, and your grace flow through us. Teach our hearts to be still this holiday season, to bask in your presence, to gaze on your grace. And help us to remember that being present is so much more important than buying presents;

help us to follow your lead, and to show up in the most humble and unexpected places. May we show your love to struggling families, to immigrants and refugees, to neighbors and strangers, to the hungry and the homeless – to all those looking for a place to find rest. In your peace, by your peace, for your peace we pray; amen.

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mastcomm · 5 years ago

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Bob Shane, Last of the Original Kingston Trio, Dies at 85

Bob Shane, the last surviving original member of the Kingston Trio, whose smooth close harmonies helped transform folk music from a dusty niche genre into a dominant brand of pop music in the 1950s and ’60s, died on Sunday in Phoenix. He was 85.

Craig Hankenson, his longtime agent, confirmed the death, in a hospice facility.

Mr. Shane, whose whiskey baritone was the group’s most identifiable voice on hits like “Tom Dooley” and “Scotch and Soda,” sang lead on more than 80 percent of Kingston Trio songs.

He didn’t just outlast the other original members: Dave Guard, who died in 1991, and Nick Reynolds, who died in 2008; he also eventually took ownership of the group’s name and devoted his life to various incarnations of the trio, from its founding in 1957 to 2004, when a heart attack forced him to stop touring.

Along the way, the trio spearheaded a reinvention of folk as a youthful, mass media phenomenon; at its peak, in 1959, the group put four albums in the Top 10 at the same time. Touring into the 21st century, the group remained a nostalgic presence for its fans, drawing many to its annual Trio Fantasy Camp in Scottsdale, Ariz.

Mr. Shane was born Robert Castle Schoen on Feb. 1, 1934, in Hilo, Hawaii, to Arthur Castle Schoen and Margaret (Schaufelberger) Schoen. His father, whose German ancestors had settled in Hawaii in the 1890s, was a successful wholesale distributor of toys and sporting goods. His mother, from Salt Lake City, met her future husband when both were students at Stanford University in the 1920s.

In Hilo, Mr. Shane’s father had planned for Bob to take over the family business. But at the private Punahou School in Honolulu, Bob learned the ukulele and songs of the Polynesian Islands and met Mr. Guard, with whom he formed a duet. After high school, Mr. Shane, Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Guard occasionally played together while attending college in Northern California — Mr. Shane and Mr. Reynolds at Menlo College, and Mr. Guard nearby at Stanford.

After graduating in 1956, Mr. Shane returned to Hawaii to learn the family business, but he found himself more drawn to music. As he told it, he performed as “the first-ever Elvis impersonator” and counted Hawaiian music, Hank Williams, Harry Belafonte and the Weavers as among his influences.

A year later, when Mr. Guard and Mr. Reynolds decided to make a go of a professional music career, Mr. Shane joined them and returned to California, where the Kingston Trio was born, in 1957. The name, a reference to Kingston, Jamaica, was meant to evoke Calypso music, which was popular then. The members exuded a youthful, clean-cut collegiate style, exemplified by their signature look: colorful, vertically striped Oxford shirts.

A year later, its first album on Capitol Records included a jaunty version of a ballad based on the 1866 murder of a North Carolina woman and the hanging of a poor former Confederate soldier for the crime. The song, “Tom Dooley,” rose to No. 1 on the singles charts, selling three million copies and earning the trio a Grammy for best country and western performance. (There was no Grammy category for folk at the time.)

From its founding to 1965, the group had 14 albums in Billboard’s Top 10, five of which reached No. 1. The trio inspired scores of imitators and, for a time, was probably the most popular music group in the world. John Stewart replaced Mr. Guard in 1961. (Mr. Stewart died in 2008.)

The Kingston Trio’s critical reception did not match its popular success. To many folk purists, the trio was selling a watered-down mix of folk and pop that commercialized the authentic folk music of countless unknown Appalachian pickers. And mindful of the way that folk musicians like Pete Seeger had been blacklisted during the McCarthy era, others complained that the trio’s upbeat, anodyne brand of folk betrayed the leftist, populist music of pioneers like Woody Guthrie and Cisco Houston.

Members of the trio said they had consciously steered clear of political material as a way to maintain mainstream acceptance. Besides, Mr. Shane said, the folk purists were using the wrong yardstick.

“To call the Kingston Trio folk singers was kind of stupid in the first place,” he said. “We never called ourselves folk singers.” He added, “We did folk-oriented material, but we did it amid all kinds of other stuff.”

Indeed, some of Mr. Shane’s finest moments, like the smoky cocktail-hour ballad “Scotch and Soda,” had nothing to do with folk. In 1961, Ervin Drake wrote “It Was a Very Good Year” for Mr. Shane. He sang it with the trio long before Frank Sinatra made it one of his classic recordings.

Still, more than any group of its time, the Kingston Trio captured the youthful optimism of the Kennedy years. The title song of a 1962 album was “The New Frontier,” echoing President John F. Kennedy’s own phrase and alluding to his inaugural address with the lyrics “Let the word go forth from this day on/ A new generation has been born.”

About the same time, the trio had an unlikely hit with the kind of material it had avoided: Mr. Seeger’s antiwar song “Where Have All the Flowers Gone.”

But by then the trio was on the verge of being supplanted as the face of folk by a new generation of harder-edged singers like Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs and Joan Baez, and by hipper ones like Peter Paul and Mary. Then the coming of the British invasion and the rise of rock utterly marginalized the group.

Over time, others, including Mr. Dylan and Ms. Baez, have given the group more credit for popularizing folk music and for serving as a bridge to the more adventurous folk, folk rock and rock of the 1960s.

As Ms. Baez wrote in her memoir “And a Voice to Sing With”: “Before I turned into a snob and learned to look down upon all commercial folk music as bastardized and unholy, I loved the Kingston Trio. When I became one of the leading practitioners of ‘pure folk,’ I still loved them.”

Mr. Shane’s admirers said his talents were never fully recognized.

“Bob Shane was, in my opinion, one of the most underrated singers in American musical history,” George Grove, a trio member since 1976, said in an email in 2015. “His voice was the voice, not only of The Kingston Trio but of an era of musical story telling.”

The group disbanded in 1967, but after a brief stint as a solo artist, a year later, Mr. Shane was back, first with what was billed as the New Kingston Trio, then with various Kingston Trio lineups.

Mr. Shane, even by the group’s wholesome standards, stood out and was billed, half seriously, as the trio’s sex symbol. Over the years his hair went from frat boy neat to a snowy mane, but he remained congenitally upbeat, like a gambler accustomed to drawing winning hands.

After retiring, Mr. Shane lived in Phoenix in a home full of gold records and Kingston Trio memorabilia. Fond of cars and dirt bikes, he also collected Martin guitars and art. His survivors include his wife, Bobbi (Childress) Shane. He had two children from an earlier marriage, to Louise Brandon. A complete list of survivors was not immediately available.

“The thing I’m most proud of next to my kids is that I have played live to over 10,000,000 people,” he said on the group’s website.

Even after his retirement, he still found ways to perform.

“Occasionally someone will call me and ask me to go onstage, and I pack a couple of oxygen tanks and go,” he said in a 2011 interview. “I always tell people I intend to live forever. So far, so good.”

William McDonald contributed reporting.

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happygreenpanda · 6 years ago

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What is the gratitude list of our Europe 2018 trip?

In the beautiful autumn 2018, we endured long hours of multi-leg flights after I spent some $ for the airfare of Little Prince for us to have a memorable Europe 2018 trip.

Herein is our gratitude list:

The first autumn experience of Little Prince!

Just few minutes after we boarded bus X9 from the Tegel Airport, while I struggled with 3 luggage and 1 backpack, he was in awe appreciating the autumn colors along the X9 route! At that moment, I knew that my efforts to realize this Europe 2019 trip was worth it!

He asked me what my favorite seasons are. I replied him in descending order of preference: autumn, spring, winter, summer.

What’s next? After a spring in Barcelona, summers in Abu Dhabi, and an autumn in Germany, we hope that he could experience a snowy winter.

Deustches Technikmuseum

Little Prince and I were joyful to see so many airplanes, ships, and trains.

Little Prince enjoyed his first walk on the railway track and most importantly it’s done in a safe environment as we didn’t have to worry about any train coming.

He insisted that I walked with him, holding hands. Hopefully, he would grow up into a charming and loving gentleman.

The walk under the warming late afternoon sun of a beautiful autumn did neutralize my negative impression on the train track left by the movie The Photograph (2007).

Madhouse at Spektrum.

Berlin Zoo

It’s the first time for both Little Prince and I to visit a zoo in an autumn. The animals were surrounded by the glorious autumn colors!

Berlin Zoo appeared to me to be smaller than Singapore Zoo but I like it as we didn’t have to walk for too long a distance.

Little Prince’s first horse cart ride.

Little Prince’s first tram ride in Postdam and Berlin, respectively.

Little Prince’s happy boat ride.

His first and sorrowful boat ride was to send the ashes of his maternal grandfather back to the nature in Jakarta, so this happy Berlin boat ride neutralized the colors of his childhood memory on boats.

We almost didn’t make it for a boat ride after 3 attempts:

20181016: Instead of arriving at the Spree River side, the direction given by the hotel reception led us to Tiergarten Park! However, it was a pleasant late afternoon walk there (near Hiroshimastraße) for us.

20181017: After we woke up very early for an admission to the Bundestag and visiting it, we walked to the . At the bank, we saw how the boat just left. However, the unfriendly staff deterred me from returning there an hour later. I decided to bring Little Prince to Deustches Tecnimuseum (he referred it as his most favorite place in Berlin) and later went to my meting that started at 4 pm.

20181019: I didn’t realize that the batteries of my watch had to be replaced, I thought we were on time but we again saw the boat left as we ran down staircases shouting “Wait! Wait!” At that time, Little Prince cried. However, through asking (the right question), I found the next door MS Franziska by Reederei D. Hadynski that was departing in 15 minutes and the boat fare is cheaper than other companies! With Berlin Welcome card, it costed me only EUR 10 (other companies quoted EUR 12 or more).

*Otherwise, we had to give the boat ride in Berlin a miss as I had to return to my meeting place and my meeting schedule for the next day was from 8am until 11pm!

I really appreciated the kind guide for her funny and caring personality.

She offered help in taking photos for rows of guests

She asked if Little Prince was cold.

She is an inspiration for me to deliver better customer service.

From the boat, we appreciated …

the visit to and the view from Bundestag.

I made a total of 3 bookings after my first booking for 20181016 was cancelled.

I didn’t manage to visit the dome in the Summer 2015 while walking with a lovely Iranian American lady.

We succeeded to visit Bundestag after waking up very early on 20181017 after landing on 20181016.

Postdam

Since we put so much resources ($, attention) to visit a far away destination, I would always love visiting a place where I’ve never been before and if possible, where I could find UNESCO site(s)!

Our main destination was the Schloss Sanssouci, which was the summer palace of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia.

It’s also the first palace that Little Prince visited.

I pray that he would have chances to visit more palaces given that he has only lived 5 years plus on our mother earth.

After trip, at the night of 20181023, when he saw the page on the Palace of Versailles in the Encyclopedia entitled A Child’s First Library of Learning: Famous Places, he would exclaimed Sanssouci!

I like the name Sans Souci, meaning “without worries” or “carefree”.

With grit and the kind helps of people in Postdam, we managed to visit Schloss Cecilienhof.

When Little Prince saw a video of the English Tudor design of the Cecilienhof Palace before trip, he told me that he wanted to visit it!

We visited the hall where the Postdam Conference 1945 was held between the heads of government of the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom and the United States.

Now, I could add Postdam to my map.

opportunities to thank the pilots who flew us safely and visit them at the cockpit.

An air stewardess of Brussels Airlines kindly invited us to visit the cockpit without us asking. Normally, I have to ask with a thick face.

chocolates

We got to sample a Godiva chocolate at Brussels Airport. Of course, we bought some chocolates and almond biscuits too, before reluctantly leaving the shop in a rush to grab our breakfast at the lounge before departure.

I like the pain au chocolat that was served at the Brussels Airlines lounge.

gifts & toys

On 20181020, I suggested Little Prince to give parts (as he used the panda bag) of his Etihad toys to a new colleague who left her 2.5 years old child in South Africa to come to the meeting.

Due to a sense of ownership, he was initially not very keen but agreed to the idea after I told him that he would get the same one on his return flight on 20181021.

On 20181021, he got an Etihad bag and asked for another one for his sisters. The kind air stewardess, with spectacles, from Milan gave us not only 2 but 4 bags + 2 pencil cases! Little Prince immediately thought of his 2 cousins in Melbourne, whom he wanted to give the 2 extra bags to. 小王子, 你是一个好大哥!

This experience also reminds us that when we cheerfully give, we will get more.

The Smurfs coloring books + 2×5 color pencils from Brussels Airlines. I like how the Smurfs are collaborative and believe that one has something he or she is good at.

a story book about polar bears (in German) from McDonald’s Happy Meal; it has the salad and apple wedges options which are lacking in Abu Dhabi

movies

Leave No Trace

This is a story about a father (Will) and his daughter (Tom).

Due to post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), Will feels oppressed by others’ presence.

Will taught Tom how to read well, in spite of living in the forest, away from social interactions with others.

“The same thing that’s wrong with you isn’t wrong with me,” Tom’s farewell to her father as he walked to the wood for a life of total isolation.

Like Tom does, let’s keep a journal, a positive one, by writing & drawing our experience.

I feel pretty

I watched this partially as I found it as not as interesting as I expected it to be.

The Leakers

I watched this partially as the entertainment was shut down > 45 minutes before landing.

robot

…

***

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mastcomm · 5 years ago

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Bob Shane, Last of the Original Kingston Trio, Dies at 85

Craig Hankenson, his longtime agent, confirmed the death, in a hospice facility.

Mr. Shane, whose whiskey baritone was the group’s most identifiable voice on hits like “Tom Dooley” and “Scotch and Soda,” sang lead on more than 80 percent of Kingston Trio songs.

Members of the trio said they had consciously steered clear of political material as a way to maintain mainstream acceptance. Besides, Mr. Shane said, the folk purists were using the wrong yardstick.

About the same time, the trio had an unlikely hit with the kind of material it had avoided: Mr. Seeger’s antiwar song “Where Have All the Flowers Gone.”

Mr. Shane’s admirers said his talents were never fully recognized.

The group disbanded in 1967, but after a brief stint as a solo artist, a year later, Mr. Shane was back, first with what was billed as the New Kingston Trio, then with various Kingston Trio lineups.

“The thing I’m most proud of next to my kids is that I have played live to over 10,000,000 people,” he said on the group’s website.

Even after his retirement, he still found ways to perform.

William McDonald contributed reporting.

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/bob-shane-last-of-the-original-kingston-trio-dies-at-85/

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