Yesterday I spent several hours making up a test for my students to take tomorrow. Then I went home and watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I was going to pop some popcorn to eat while I watched, but then I noticed I had a week-old bag of spinach I hadn’t even opened. I was too lazy to actually make a salad out of it, so I sat down in front of the movie with a bag of spinach and a bag of croutons.

Monty Python is funnier when you’re eating spinach.

Friday was “Amazon Day.” That is, when my order from Amazon.com came in. I got a neat little book called Twisty Little Passages, the first book-length academic study of interactive fiction (aka computer “text adventure games,” like Zork, that people played in the 80’s) from a literary perspective. I played Zork and its ilk for many years, and I have fond memories of reading the text over the phone to my best friend Dann in junior high, and we would puzzle out together what to do next. Sometimes at 2 am. (I confess, we had to use hints for Zork I, but we beat Zork II fair and square.)

Anyway, the book was printed on acid-free paper, with a full-cloth hardcover binding (not just a strip of cloth down the spine). When you take the dust jacket off, the cover is deep navy blue, with silver lettering on the binding. It’s beautiful. I get so tired of the garish colors on paperbacks these days – bright reds and yellows, hot pinks, and day-glo orange. The colors clash when they’re placed next to each other on the shelf, and I absolutely refuse to organize my books by color scheme. The garish paperbacks are “dog books.” They run up to you and scream, “Look at me! Look at me! Pay attention and shower love on me!” Books like Twisty Little Passages are “cat books.” They sit on the shelf, looking quiet and mysterious, and seem to say, “Whenever you think you’re ready to read something worthwhile, come find me. I’ll be over here, doing my own thing.”

I need to buy more “cat books.”

Well, it looks like the coffee shop is just about the place to meet people here in town. I was sitting out front there Tuesday afternoon, when who should walk by but my old high school geometry teacher, Mr. Payne! I asked about him when I went back to the school for a visit a couple of weeks ago, but they told me he had long since gone on to greener pastures in computers, etc. I enjoyed him; his geometry class was a memorable experience for me. (I was the only freshman in the class; until I went into that classroom, I hadn’t realized that upperclassmen and freshmen were sometimes in the same classes together!) I was glad to see he was doing well.

This morning, I went to have coffee with the pastors at the church I’ve just started attending. We met in the coffee shop and started discussing things. As we were talking, who should come up to the table but Clint Sanders! Clint was a friend of mine in high school – well, really, we were in school together from preschool on up. He was salutatorian when he graduated and lettered in something like 11 sports. On top of that, he was a really nice guy who helped out with FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes). He’s working here in town at Jerry White’s pharmacy (which I was glad to hear; when he left high school his goal was to become a pharmacist). His wife, Rachel (his high-school sweetheart), is working as a CPA.

Anyway, I was talking to the pastor and the assistant pastor of Grace Covenant Fellowship, the only non-denominational church I know of around here. I got to talk with them and hear their vision for the church and the community, and what things they felt called to as a church, and ask any questions I might have. They told me lots of funny stuff – like, when they started the church, a local Assembly of God pastor prophesied over them that small groups wouldn’t work because of the culture around here. They told him, “Well, we feel called to start a Biblical culture!” and proceeded to reorganize their church around a small-group structure! They now have a vibrant small-group ministry that is the heart of the church’s life.

I went to my first small group last night, and it was great. They uniformly seemed intelligent, sincere, and enthusiastic about going deeper with God, even though there were some (significant) differences of opinion. It was also good to hang around with people post-college but pre-middle-age, since that’s not a large demographic in this area. At any rate, when the pastors talked about their small-group ministry, I had just experienced one of the said small groups the night before.

The pastors also told me something that startled and excited me. They have a weekly prayer meeting with the pastors of Grace Baptist, Ebenezer Baptist, Glad Tidings Assembly of God, and First Alliance – which are all pretty major churches in this area. I mean, this isn’t a bunch of double-digit member churches getting together to encourage each other on their low membership. This is something significant that I can’t remember happening previously in this town – church splits tend to cause deep rifts in the community, and, while individual members may be friends, churches seldom join for longer than it takes to bring in an outside evangelist for a revival meeting.

“They say Aslan is on the move – perhaps has already landed!”

I saw an old friend at church yesterday. I went to high school with Zach; he and Dann and I would eat lunch together every day. We’d sing oldies songs at the top of our lungs, which meant that, in the school lunchroom, you couldn’t hear us from three feet away.

We were three conservatives in a sea of democrats. We sat around the table discussing Rush Limbaugh, Ayn Rand, and John Stuart Mill. We encouraged each other when Bush lost to Clinton – the first Democratic president any of us could remember.

Zach went on to join the Marines, and now he writes a column for the local newspaper. As befitting our past, he’s also involved in local politics.

Zach was at church with his whole clan – all his brothers and parents and in-laws and everyone else – to dedicate his new son. His FIFTH child. In keeping with family tradition, Zach named him Isaiah. (Zach’s brothers are named Jeremiah and Nehemiah.)

Congratulations, Zach. And may Isaiah grow up, like his namesake, to boldly proclaim the word of truth.

Magnolia

“I have a lot of love, I just don’t know where to put it!”

Magnolia is a movie about some very unhappy people. Very unhappy. Various characters are dying of cancer, abusing drugs, in adultery and homosexuality, in poverty, controlled by their parents, rejected by their children, and just messed up in general. The movie follows nine (!!) main characters through a couple of days as their lives touch each other and they attempt to grapple with their problems.

“You may be through with the past, but the past isn’t through with you.”

The moral center of the movie is the Christian cop. Bad things happen to him, but he does the right thing and manages to rise above his circumstances. When he encounters the other characters, he extends grace to them, breaking their downward spiral of failure and self-destruction.

“The question is, What do we forgive?”

I found the movie difficult to watch. First, it is over three hourse long. Second, it lingers over the agony of the characters with little relief. (There is some comic relief in just how totally messed up some of the characters are.) Finally, it has more profanity and language than I’ve heard since . . . well, since I left my last job in Atlanta.

Nevertheless, it is a powerful movie. I found that I identified in some major way with at least four of the nine characters. It squarely faces the destructive consequences of sin, as well as the way our sin affects the people around us. At the same time, though, it isn’t a hopeless movie, but shows the effects of forgiveness and grace, as well.

I’m glad I watched it. It’ll probably be some time before I subject myself to it again (if ever).

Today we had the inauguration for our new college president. An hour before we were supposed to line up for the processional, I got out my robe, hood, and mortarboard to get everything figured out. I didn’t attend my graduation ceremony for my Masters degree (after the thesis was completed, I was too wiped out to care), so this was the first time to try on this type of regalia.

I put the robe on and realized something was very, very wrong. My sleeves were about a foot and a half too long and were sewn together at the ends. Oh, no! I thought. I am in serious trouble! I briefly had wild thoughts of hacking off the ends with my pocket knife, then I calmed down enough to do a thorough examination of the robe. About two feet up from the ends, I found the holes for my hands.

This was my introduction to “tippet sleeves.”

Tippet sleeves are like regular sleeves, only they have a long, pouch-like extension hanging down under the wrist. When I hold my arms out, they look like wings. They’re really quite cool, actually. I’m sure if I ever went trick-or-treating in this regalia, I could use it to hold all my candy. And if anyone ever tried to take the candy from me, I could just gather up the pouch and swing it like a sap to whack someone upside the head.

This was my first time wearing a hood, as well. My first thought, of course, was, “Why don’t we wear the hood over the head? It is a hood, after all." So I took off the mortarboard and threw my hood over my head. It actually looked pretty cool. Except that there’s this funny thing that looks like a tippet sleeve coming out from the back of the head. Still, though, it looks a lot more impressive than the mortarboard. I mean, really, what were those guys at the University thinking a thousand years ago? “Hey, mortar is cool. We like stonework. Let’s wear mortarboards on our heads!”

At any rate, the hood is pretty cool. I’m wearing it now. When I get up and spread my arms out, I look like a freakin’ warlock. Or Andre the Giant as the Dread Pirate Roberts. “You shall not escape!”

The other professors could wear the robe while they taught today. I didn’t have any classes today, so I didn’t get to. Even though the robe is rented, the college rented them for us for the rest of the semester, so we can wear it at December graduation. I think I’ll wear it to teach in a few times. Then, I can look down on my colleagues, and sneer at the mere jacket-and-tie they wear. I wear the full, tradional academic regalia. Obviously, I must be holier than they are.

The inauguration was long and a lot of people spoke. The best one was the president of the student government association, a senior. He didn’t make any dumb jokes, he was poised, he was warm and personal and made some good points, and then he sat down. I wish the older speakers would have taken their cue from him.

After the inauguration was the reception. I ate breakfast late, so I hadn’t had lunch by the time the inauguration started. About halfway through, all I could think about was how hungry I was. Fortunately, there was a pretty good spread of food at the reception afterwards, so I wolfed a lot of stuff down while I talked to my students.

Okay, movie review time. I rented five movies last Wednesday, and only returned them tonight.

Castle in the Sky: Children’s anime from Miyazaki, the famous director of Princess Mononoke. Originally titled “Laputa: Castle in the Sky” in Japanese, Disney dropped the word “Laputa” for American distribution. The rumor is that “laputa” (unbeknownst to Miyazaki) is an obscene slang word in Spanish, but I don’t know enough Spanish to put the rumor to rest. At any rate, the movie is a good kids’ film – with the caveat that the Japanese don’t have the same stigma about guns in kids’ films, and there’s a potentially scary scene where the bad guy puts the little girl up against a wall and shoots off her pigtails.

Shaolin Soccer: Kung-fu brothers apply skills to soccer. Hilarity, as they say, ensues.

Supersize Me: This is an eye-opening documentary about the obesity epidemic in America, and its roots in fast-food franchises. As a sort of framework, the documentary producer goes on a 30-day diet of nothing but McDonald’s food. The predictions his doctors make about what will happen, compared to what actually happens, are fascinating.

The Last Samurai: This film was well-acted, but fundamentally flawed conceptually. An American cavalry officer (played by Tom Cruise), haunted by the atrocities he witnessed in his battles against the Indians, is hired to help modernize the Japanese military during the Meiji restoration. During a fight with the samurai rebels, he is captured. During his winter as a captive, he learns to appreciate the samurai values of discipline, honor, and loyalty. Eventually he is released. He goes back and joins the samurai rebels, and fights alongside them as a samurai, even though they know they cannot win against the modern military with medieval weapons and armor.

The flaw is this: the samurai are not fighting for their land, their families, or anything else that tangible. They are fighting for their way of life. What do they mean by this? Well, the movie gives some mumbo-jumbo about Bushido, the Warrior’s Code, discipline, and honor. The obvious question (that is never asked) is, “Can’t you teach the modern military about discipline and honor, and, heck, even Zen Buddhism?” Well, they could, but it just wouldn’t be the same . . . you see, the samurai have been the military for 900 years, etc., and it just wouldn’t be the same, passing it on to these peasants. And there it is: the way of life the samurai are fighting to preserve is the medieval caste system, in which the samurai were pretty much the Big Bullies on the Block, with legal license to kill any peasant that doesn’t bow and scrape to them.

To preserve this way of life, they are willing to leave their wives husbandless and their children fatherless. Even though they know they will lose, they will throw it all away just to have one last slaughter of the Japanese peasants who have enlisted in the “new” military. It is especially troublesome that Tom Cruise would join them in this, since he was so messed up with the atrocities committed against the Indians, but now he’s made peace and is ready to slaughter the Japanese.

The last movie was Magnolia. I’ll save it for tomorrow, since it was so. . . magnolia-like.

I just got back from visiting my sister this weekend and helping her work on the cabin. She’s still trying to think up a good name for it. I thought “Stormhold” would be great, but she wasn’t convinced. (Hey, Mom! You know our house down here in town? If you ever let me move back there, I’m going to christen it “Stormhold!” And then I’m gonna build a tower on top. With turrets and gunports. ;-)

My sister put up insulation inside the cabin while I dragged off broken slabs of pressboard and the tin sheets that had been rusting on the previous roof for 15 years. Stuff was accomplished. Fun was had.

Saturday night, my sister and I watched an episode of “The Dukes of Hazzard” on tape. We used to watch it when we were kids. I’d forgotten how cheesy the show was. It was still fun to watch, though.

Sunday afternoon we went by the mall on our way back from church. In the mall, I saw a store called “Big Daddy’s NASCAR and Knives.” Now, my question is, “What in the world do NASCAR and knives have to do with each other?” But I guess, for a certain type of person, it’s sort of like chocolate and peanut butter – two great tastes that go well together. Ah, Alabama.

It was good to see the rest of the family – Uncle Wallace & Aunt Martha, Uncle Ken & Aunt Sarah, and, of course, Grandmother. Now I’m back in Georgia, with a day and a half left in Fall Break.

I was disappointed last night.

I’ve been looking around to find a church I like. Since I went to college, I’ve discovered I like non-denominational churches with progressive, modern worship styles. (I don’t use the word “contemporary” – churches that advertise “contemporary” worship usually mean they think it’s “radical” and “edgy” to have an acoustic guitar and drums.) Also, I’m trying to find a church with a strong post-college singles demographic. Frankly, I don’t think the second exists in this town – there simply aren’t many jobs in this county that require a college degree. However, last Sunday I found a nice non-denominational church with the style of worship I like. The preaching was . . . worthwhile.

Anyway, they have a cell-group structure, and they told me this one certain group had a couple of people in it who were my age. So, I was really looking forward to going to it for the first time on Wednesday night. Then I found out it was cancelled. I was bummed. I needed something to do.

There weren’t any good movies playing (see yesterday’s post), so I went to the video store to rent some movies. They had changed their name AGAIN. I think they’ve had four different names since they first opened up about 15 years ago. I thought I’d have to sign up for a new card, but it turns out I was still in their computer system from five years ago. I gave them my new phone number, and I was good to go! There are some advantages to small-town life.

I rented a bunch of movies, but I went to sleep before I could watch any of them. I went to sleep at 8:30, slept until 2:30, read for a couple of hours, then went back to sleep until morning. I had lost some sleep the night before, staying up late to grade research proposals, so I guess this was just making up for it. Still, it was pretty disappointing to be denied both fellowship and movies.

My last class is done. My Fall Break begins now.

*waits a little bit*

Well, somehow I thought it would be more exciting. I’ve got very little to do over the next week, besides visiting my sister in Alabama (hello, sis!) and helping her work on the cabin she’s building. I’d go see a movie at the local movie theater, but nothing good is playing. Maybe I’ll rent some movies or something.

The local movie theater is terrible. I went to see Hero there last month, and was aghast at how run-down the place was. It’s been nearly a decade since I last watched a movie there. Water damage, bare cinder blocks, no carpet – it’s really a dollar theater that charges $5.50.

They just opened a new theater ten minutes north of the college. It’s got Dolby DTS surround sound, nice carpeting, six screens (the old one only has three), comfy seats, and cupholders on the armrests. I saw Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow a couple of weeks ago, and it was great. Best of all, during matinees, it costs the same as the old theater! I’m never going back to the old one again.

I went back to my high school today to see my old teachers. I’ve been kind of nervous that I would meet one of them in the grocery store, and s/he would say, “Why haven’t you come back to say hi?” and I’d have to say, “Well . . . I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

I got to see several of them. All of them are a little older, with a little more grey hair, but otherwise just like I remember. Mr. Fried, my English teacher, is still teaching in his trailer outside the main school building, just like he was nine years ago. He’s moved up to teaching 10^th grade gifted and 11^th grade college prep – an improvement over teaching three sections of 9^th grade English. I was happy to find that his family’s doing well and his daughter is about to get married.

I also saw Mrs. Frady, my trig teacher. I never took to well to math, but she made it as fun and interesting as the subject matter allowed, and I have good memories of her class.

Finally, I saw Mrs. Stephenson, my Algebra II teacher. Her son David is my age, and we grew up in school together. He just got married (she showed me pictures), and I’m very happy for him.

It was strange going back to the school. I hadn’t been there since I went for a visit my freshman year of college. Everything looked like it used to; there hadn’t really been any noticeable improvements. (Except the gazebos in the courtyard.) The teachers basically told me it was because they just built a new, luxurious middle school, and they only had so much funding. They encouraged me to see the new middle school. (“The hallways are big enough to drive a semi through,” Mr. Fried said.) Maybe I’ll have to do that sometime soon.

Quote of the Day: “We’ve secretly replaced Matt’s regular laundry detergent with corn starch. Let’s see if he notices a difference.”

It’s about midterm. I love my job. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my job. And my students. My students! My wonderful, immature, intelligent, excited students! I got the first batch of papers back – they did a little better than I was expecting. I got the first batch of tests back, too, and they were rather good.

My students comment sometimes about how happy and bubbly I am. I’m not always that way -- it’s just that I LOVE TEACHING CLASS. Sometimes I just sit in my office and laugh and laugh at the thought that they’re actually paying me to do this! I mean, look at the facts: I teach four classes a week, averaging around 20-25 students per class. These are all on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Tuesdays and Thursdays I do – nothing! Not one blessed thing! And next week I get Fall Break – a week off to do as I please! And then we have Christmas Break – virtually an entire month to sip cider and read books! And then Spring Break, and then – and then – it’s like they say, “Oh, here you go, little English teacher! You obviously need more time to read books and watch the rain. TAKE THE NEXT THREE MONTHS OFF. We’ll even keep sending you a paycheck. If you really need money, you can teach summer school, but then we’d have to pay you over and above your normal salary.”

And what is it I teach? Well, pretty much, I just get to talk about Flannery O’Connor, T. S. Eliot, Emily Dickinson, and other luminaries for fifty minutes. This is broken up by the occasional forays into grammar, word usage, and punctuation (plug for the hilarious book: Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss. Best book on punctuation EVAR!1!! No, really. I’m not joking. Read it.) Okay, so grading papers is sort of a drag. But only sort of. Compared to my previous jobs, even grading papers is an improvement. And like I said above, the papers weren’t quite as bad as I was expecting. (Teaching Freshman Comp at UGA cured me of any fantasies I had about good freshman writers.)

But it’s not just the classes. I love all the extracurricular activities, too. Last week, I went with a group of students (about half of them were in one of my classes) to the Shakespeare Tavern in Atlanta to watch Macbeth. It was great. Afterwards, we stopped at Krispy Kreme to eat fresh, hot donuts during our (2-hour) ride back to our Small College Town in Northeast Georgia. I spent about an hour talking about literature to my students, who had all sorts of questions about Tolkien, Shakespeare, and other stuff that I talk my head off about if anyone gives me half an opportunity.

A couple of weeks ago, I went whitewater rafting on the Chatooga river with the college’s Outdoor Club. We got to go over a Class V rapids! I got dumped in the drink a couple of times, but that’s part of the fun. The Outdoor Club is supposed to be doing a caving trip sometime soon – I can’t wait to do that!