I believe I may have set my personal record for sleep last night. Went to bed on Friday at around 5:30 pm and woke up around 8:00 am this morning. I must have been more tired then I thought.

It’s always hard to say goodbye and when you’re a musician letting an instrument go can be melancholy. But its a fact of life; times change, people change, music changes, and your need for an particular axe flows with it all. The darling of your life fresh from the music store finds a way to the back of your rack and then its off to the store as a trade in.

I wanted to simplify, to move from six basses to just what I need. I wanted to add a guitar to increase my range for songwriting. So I traded in my six string, my fretless, my four string, and an electric mandolin in for a single four string (Fender Precision) and an acoustic (Dean Exotica). And despite the brand new instruments at home, each wood grain with great tone and function, I still miss the old ones.

That’s natural. An instrument channels your thoughts, your faith, your emotions, and some of your deepest passions to the world. Yes, it’s a thing but it’s a thing that becomes part of you and sometimes part of your identity. I will miss the late at night moments with each of them, that quiet time when I could think about the day and life and let the music carry things through. Yet there was also a hunger to let the clutter go, to focus, to find the “one” in the many and to expand in a new direction. Eventually that won out.

Things change and perhaps some day the new instruments in my attic studio will take that ride in the back seat to a music store. But right now I’m in between, missing the old, enjoying the new, and only the music remains the same.

An article on a stone tablet dated before Jesus and speaking of a Messiah who would die and rise again in three days.Here’s Get Religion’s take on it. Interesting?

I still have that sweet kind of tired feeling from a night at the concerts.

In this case it was a double bill free concert at the Taste of Minnesota festival featuring The Zombies and Eddie Money. My sister was my accomplice, we came early and sat close drinking Sprite to combat the heat and eating popcorn well, because it was cheap.

Eddie Money was loud and in your face, doing his best to generate energy from the crowd and catch a bit of the groove that made him famous in the 80’s. The mix blurred out his vocals and sometimes the distinctions between the instruments but at its best it produced that jumpin’ up and down live concert feel where lights and sound and moment blend together.

The opening act, though, was actually the best. 60’s British group, The Zombies, back and touring again after who knows how long, took the stage for their third concert of an American swing and it was hippie time in St. Paul at least for an hour. Now it wasn’t actually the entire Zombies of those days gone by, but it was the lead singer and keyboardist, in effect the core, that came to play with a quality group of support musicians. And yes, while there were a whole bunch of folks with grey hair and tie dyed shirts in the crowd, The Zombies also played a great show for a new audience of people, like myself, who were children when they first toured.

Most folks, if they know of The Zombies at all remember a couple of songs including “Time of the Season” and “She’s Not There” but their set included other popular but lesser known songs, a few from their current CD, and the hit “Hold Your Head Up” from the group Argent which emerged from the remnants of the Zombies in the 70’s. But there was something else happening at the show.

I think the popularity of some of these “dinosaur’ acts lies partly in their ability, by just being present, to recall what many perceive to be better times, some long ago youthful past. But for newer people the appeal seems to be bands that actually play their instruments. Its kind of a shock for kids raised on rap and shredding to see music featuring changes of tempo, musicianship, and varying volume levels. There’s mood there, not just tons of faux cynical anger and posing, and vocal quality as well; words that mean things without profanity. There’s a world of difference between Eminem’s nasal rantings and The Zombies “A Rose for Emily’s” tale of lost love and heartache. And some of the folks seemed to be getting it.

Anyway, now its Monday morning and I’m tired and making the best of my day off with a bit of the music still swirling around in my head. To whoever called me from LaCrosse during the concert I’m sorry you couldn’t hear me because I had great seats by the stage but I left a message between concerts and I’ll call back today.

It’s the 4th of July and everything is fairly quiet around St. Paul. Most folks are just laying low, hanging around with family and friends. I’ll be at a Twins baseball game tonight and then get ready to head to LaCrosse in the morning.

I’ve been thinking about the shape of things lately, the way of the world and the future of this land. We’re in a crazy time now, possessed of a politics of selfishness and a culture grown tired. It looks like another election where we’ll have to choose which person hurts us less and a year when most of us will watch with open mouths as forces larger than us play the game with our lives as pieces.

Yet I know that some of this is real, some of this is hype, some of this is our foolishness, and some of this is just a generation coddled by materialism coming to terms with limits. And as bad as it can get sometimes I still am glad that over a century ago my great grandparents made the trip from what was then Prussia and came to this land. Things were hard for them, too, in their own way and they made it and I’d like to think that some of that spirit remains.

I’ve traveled to other countries. I respect other countries. But this one, the United States, is home and always will be.

We’re #16! We’re #16!

Perhaps the most annoying commercials on television are those pathetic gatherings of men singing “Viva Viagra…” to the tune of the Elvis song “Viva Las Vegas”. The King is most certainly turning in his grave and every one of the actors should have their ear flicked just for showing up for the gig.

What is your most annoying commercial?

Back from a mid week run to Grand Rapids, Michigan, and the Midwest Diocesan Parish Life Conference. I’ve seen enough of cars for a while but learned a few things along the way…

Don’t use Hotwire or Priceline to make reservations. When they lock in that “special” rate for you the contract is non negotiable and they will penalize you for any change in schedule no matter how trivial. Think a hundred times before pressing their buttons.

A Chevrolet Aveo has great gas mileage and plenty of room, but the seats have no support for a long drive. If you want to rent one make sure to get out and stretch every hour or so to avoid, so to speak, a cramping of the buns.

That Orthodox Bishops don’t go insane within a year of their consecration proves the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. Bishops are seldom left alone, always overworked, and our Bishop MARK went to his father’s funeral on Monday and then was present for the Diocesan convention, and all of us, on Wednesday. I can’t imagine the life of a Bishop and every one of them should make at least a hundred grand a year with one month off.

The old saying that everything can change in an instant is true. On our way north into Michigan, in the vicinity of Benton Harbor, there was an accident. Apparently a few minutes ahead of us a car and a truck collided and two lanes were closed. As we passed the scene the fire crew was rolling out a body bag.

I’m not as alone as I thought. When Priests gather together they talk and I was reminded that others are working full time jobs and trying to help missions and small churches get on their feet. I wish it wasn’t so. I wish mission parishes had all the financial support they needed and small church pastors would get the tools they need to give new life to their charges. But until then knowing that my lot is shared makes it easier and helps me focus my prayers for my brothers in arms fighting this good fight.

After the service a young couple talked to a church member about joining the church. He hadn’t met the husband before, and he asked what church he was transferring from. After a short hesitation, he replied,“I ‘m transferring from the Municipal Golf Course.”