randomosity, v. 2

• Like virtually all Americans, I believe abortion is wrong. Where Americans are divided is on the issue of whether they should be able to tell another person what's "wrong" based on their own morals. It occured to me on the drive home yesterday that I believe theft is also wrong, but I am willing to impose that belief on others if need be. Then, it occured to me that making theft a crime is partly for my own personal safety, whereas making abortion a crime doesn't keep me safe. But, yet it does keep others safe -- people who cannot yet speak out. So, the Republicans won that mental debate. (But, again, a pro-life democrat would through American politics all out of whack.)
• Are twenty-somethings somewhat useless to the evangelical church today? They don't have children, can't really lead Bible studies (except for other twenty-somethings), don't have money, don't have the experience to be deacons and deaconesses and elders. And, chances are they won't be around when they're thirty-somethings.
• Conversation is an art which I have not studied well.
• This morning an agile senior-citizen couple was walking ahead of me on the recreational trail, holding hands and bundled in sweatshirts and jackets and bifocals and John Deere caps. The few leaves left on the trees began showering over them, and I wanted my camera so badly. It occured to me that they were going to die (maybe not for decades yet), but this was surely a golden moment.
• The American female's love-hate, self-destructive relationship with the chick flick deserves further reflection.
• Found out a girl I know (unmarried) had a baby. If asked to choose from all the people I knew and guess who might be in this position someday, she would be in the last three percent I would ever suspect. I heard it and my heart just sank for her, to know what a blow it could mean for her very promising future. She was the Bible study leader type, the one to counsel people in her position. It will mean a huge challenge to her, yet she's the kind of managing person who could juggle raising a steady child and do her job better than required of her. Still, the thought comes: it could just as easily have happened to anyone else on the planet.
• It if wasn't clear from last night's ranting, I went up to O.C. last night. Had dinner and a drink with a friend, (learned the difference between chick drinks and not chick drinks)
• then went to a concert for a band I used to be part of. Watching such a concert is fun, for seeing 3/4 of an ensemble that I used to play with. Then, it's difficult to see that unfamiliar 1/4 who are the "replacements." The part of me that will always love freshmen simply for their freshmenness wanted to meet them all. The terribly irritating part of me was bitter. It's also fun to watch them from the audience -- see all the eyes constantly checking in with one man, to know his reaction to their action, to synchronize their own actions with his -- for he is always right, even if he is wrong. Or, it's fun to watch the players who have tuned out, who have stopped watching their music, but are shaken awake by hearing that passage right before their entrance. It's also fun to know privately how thankful all the players are at that exact moment that this man is leading them, as opposed to absolutely any other member of the music faculty.
• It's funny to note the reactions when people recognize you. That girl from Steggy who you always thought looked so nice but hesitated to give you the time of day gives you a kind of shocked little "what are you doing here?" smile. That makes you want to walk back out the door. Others actually scream, they're so excited.
• It's also funny to watch who is excited and who says "hi" and walks on. Those I actually had conversations almost exclusively included those I established relationships with when they were freshmen: one tutee, two clarinets, one Urban Plunger, one chickadee, and a bassoonist I still can't recall how I ever got to know, and a roommate's sister. Then there was a clarinetist from the catharsis group, but she's my age.