Why Me? Why Write? Why Now? Why Not?

The Me is Doug Curran…Douglas M Curran…Douglas Metcalf Curran. Douglas is Celtic for “dweller by the dark stream”. Curran in Gaelic means “little spear”. And Metcalf? Scottish for “I met a calf”? Hey I don’t know! I don't have all the answers. I'm still trying to get the questions right. At least I seem to be a spear fisher by some dirty water. Or maybe I'm a Druid. And that Curran thing may not even be as Irish as my Irish American wife, Colleen Fitzsimmons, hoped it was when she married me. Ok, I might be a Viking. It's like this. I was reading this book, The Lion Of Ireland, see, and the author, Morgan Llewellyn, recounts a last battle between Brian Boru and the Viking invader king, to regain Irish dominance again throughout the island and kick the fureners out. The Viking king's name? Olaf Cuaran? Cuaran? Curran? I'm a Viking now, so I am? And a descendent of one of those marauding and murderous pillagers and plunderers? I've never pillaged a thing in my life...well, maybe a book or two from somebody. I'm really just a gentle giant who loves books and music. Ok, I bought a sword recently, but only as a wall decoration to enhance my Irish family history coat of arms! Honest! Viking, Schmiking, so rest my Irish soul! Or my wife will have my old bald Irish head!

April 11, 2010

Ye Gods And Little Fishes! And Isagenix! Say What?

Yes, that first line is what my mom used to say to express her preposterousness at something. And her mother before her...and who knows how far back that colorful but antiquated phrase goes. So that's what I have to say as I watched a little of the PGA Master's Tournament today and watch how far this idolatry goes. Honestly folks, why do we let ourselves be fooled into thinking these guys are gods because they can wield a few iron sticks with skill and concentration to get a very little ball into a very little hole? And people actually go and watch this stuff with reverent awe, applaud with adoring emotion and grovel at the feet of their feet! It's a self-perpetuating media and money driven exercise in modern day idol worship.

It's the same with so many athletic contests and the well-developed bodies and amazing physical prowess displayed, often again having to do with mastery of some kind of ball. But as we've seen, a lot of those who do it are no models of morality or lives well-lived in service and kindness and love. The entertainment industry is the same, providing us with larger than life, big screen idols to worship and adore and try to emulate and hang on their every word about beauty and fashion and polititics, though many of their lives are skewed and flawed and over indulgent. Ah the hubris!

We saw little Michael Buble on stage a week or so ago, and I emphasize little, because although I like his voice ok and do appreciate that he's revived a lot of the good old vocal standards, I honestly gagged at the ear-crushing din of screaming and applause at his diminutive appearance. He had a big stage of musicians and special effects to back up his tiny body, otherwise he would have had little impact. And yet, we accept all these amplifications in sound and visuals as real, because we love spectacle, love things that are loud and flashy and big!

I was there once, singing with The Letterment in 1969-70, enjoying but more being baffled at the adulation I received for merely walking out on a stage and singing some already recorded top 40 hits, as a stand-in who could fake the real guy for awhile while he recuperated from a psychosomatic voice loss. Yes, I was idolized by screaming and mindless fans, but never felt comfortable with it, got bored with it after the first weeks of show, and found I could live without it when it was over in a year or so. Not that I didn't enjoy it of course - but I wasn't obsessed by it.

And then there's the real God, one of a trinity of Gods, the man whose victory over physical and spiritual death on the cross, in the garden, gave us eternal gifts, supernal gifts, love and forgiveness, a real model of life and courage and patience and compassion and charity. I tried to quietly celebrate His life last weekend, Easter weekend, with contemplations and supplications and rededications to keep His commandments, so I can live a full life here and with Him someday in the kingdom of His Father.

To me, more and more, that's what my live should be about, especially when every day's a countdown in my late 60s. Sure I love to watch a good athletic contest and attend a great concert. But deify the participants and honor them above the Savior of the world? I don't think so, in case that's what going on by what I see in these fawning and ingratiating celebrations of man-made celebrities who we too often substitute for the real thing.

And by the way, I'm on the seventh day of trying Isagenix, doing my deep cleanse today, trying to shed the burden of weight I've accumulated by lackadaisical living and forgetfulness and non-attention to my body and health. I have obviously used food as a comfort and neglected healthy activity, gradually growing larger and larger till I have come to my breaking point and need to change. So by replacing two meals a day with two nutritious and good tasting shakes, I am taking the guesswork out of choosing those meals everyday, am saving money I spend on them, and am not allowing myself to choose otherwise whatever suits my fancy in a fit of hunger pang. I hope it works and will report my progress as I go.

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