America's Most Overrated Product: the Bachelor's Degree
Except at Princeton Theological Seminary, where it was apparently the D.Min.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Bishops Get the Best Vestments
Above is an ensemble recently modeled by our Presiding Bishop. Priests never get to wear goods like these. Not only is it wonderfully post-modern, but it reminds me of one of my favorite Batman stories.
Bishops Get the Best Vestments, Again
Again, that same model, as joined by an episcopal supermodel from Idaho, gives us a glimpse of what's new for fall. It's kind of making me hungry for lobster. I don't know why.
I hope I can get a knock-off at Gimbel's.
[This is written out of jealousy as those of us who are mere presbyters, and part-time at that, have to wear off-the-rack stuff from catalogues.]
Quote of the Week
“When your memories become more vivid than your dreams, you’ve begun to die.” - Howard Hendricks, Dallas Theological Seminary
The Ghost of Birthdays Past
A long time ago, when I was single and living in the Chelsea neighborhood in Manhattan, one of my acquaintances, David, was to celebrate a birthday. Of the things that David, a pastry chef, abhorred were ice cream cakes from Carvel. I don't know why, but there you go. Especially since, for those New Yorkers old enough to remember, Carvel had the loopiest and, for that reason, most enjoyable commercials on local television.
Anyway, for reasons that should be obvious, we decided to get David a Carvel ice cream cake. I recall it was "Fudgie the Whale". My friend Ben, who is now a reporter in Atlanta, was in charge of seeing that the cake carried the prosaic message, "Happy Birthday, David."
Now, I'm not sure from what nation the Carvel employee originally hailed from, but clearly it was from a culture where "David" was not a common name. Ben pronounced it for him, spelled it verbally, wrote it out on a piece of paper, re-pronounced it and, fifteen minutes later, the Carvel fellow exclaimed, "Oh, you mean Da-veed." We did indeed.
Two days later we picked up the cake, opened the box, and it read "Happy Birthday, Dadiv."
Now, I hadn't thought of this for about 26 years. That is, until I came home from work today and found this waiting for me:
My wife has both a great sense of humor and a long memory.
Anyway, for reasons that should be obvious, we decided to get David a Carvel ice cream cake. I recall it was "Fudgie the Whale". My friend Ben, who is now a reporter in Atlanta, was in charge of seeing that the cake carried the prosaic message, "Happy Birthday, David."
Now, I'm not sure from what nation the Carvel employee originally hailed from, but clearly it was from a culture where "David" was not a common name. Ben pronounced it for him, spelled it verbally, wrote it out on a piece of paper, re-pronounced it and, fifteen minutes later, the Carvel fellow exclaimed, "Oh, you mean Da-veed." We did indeed.
Two days later we picked up the cake, opened the box, and it read "Happy Birthday, Dadiv."
Now, I hadn't thought of this for about 26 years. That is, until I came home from work today and found this waiting for me:
My wife has both a great sense of humor and a long memory.
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