The Melheimian Sabbatiblog

The Pop Star on TV (to "The Farmer In The Dell")

The pop star on tv
The pop star on tv
Higher than a satellite
The pop star on tv

MyVoice Research of the United Kingdom surveyed parents of small children and discovered:

• 44% said they were singing pop songs and TV theme tunes instead of nursery rhymes
• 40% cannot recite a single nursery rhyme all the way through

For those lamenting the lack of Biblical literacy, one might wonder about the effects of a general cultural  illiteracy.

What do we lose when the old stories, the old rhymes, the old songs that had been part of the common life experience for the masses are replaced by the pop version of everything?

(And, to be fair, one might ask "What might we gain?")

Just for the fun of it, I'd like to add my own new rhyme today to become part of the bedtime stories of future generations of kids. Let's do it to the tune of "The Farmer in the Dell."

The Pop Star on TV

The pop star on tv
The pop star on tv
Higher than a satellite
The pop star on tv

The pop star takes a wife
Some Qualudes, crack, a knife
Higher than a satellite
The pop star takes a wife

The wife takes lawyer
A stalker, thief and voyeur
Higher than a satellite
The wife takes al lawyer

The lawyer takes his time
And steals their every dime
Higher than a satellite
The lawyer takes his time

The time takes its toll
The Network cuts his role
Higher than a satellite
The time takes its toll

The toll stands alone
His agent won't pick up the phone
Higher than a satellite
The toll stands alone

h/t: churchrelevance.com

Get Paid Four Times

In the "Life is too short to waste" department, when I give talks to high school seniors I tell usually them they shouldn't consider taking any job that doesn't pay them at least four times.

Payment 1    You get to do what you love
Payment 2    You get to work with people you really enjoy
Payment 3    You can make some money... Enough to take care of those you love and to give away to others in need
Payment 4    The work does something good for the world... And hopefully something that will outlast you so you will keep on giving long after you are gone

You can always make more money. You will never make more time.

So, you gotta ask yourself today: Are you working at a job that only pays you once?

My advice? Take that job and shove it. The quicker the better.

It's time you made a much better return for your only non-renewable resource.

And Speaking of Death

I've had quite an interesting two weeks: Monty Python's "Holy Grail" in NYC with my family, an art show and party for my friend Dr. He Qi at the Museum of Biblical Art on Broadway, "Wicked" in Chicago with my family, a wedding of a favorite "kid" from one of my old youth groups at a 120 year old farm in Indiana, plus a little visit to the other side of eternity sandwiched in the middle when my heart stopped during an angioplasty and they had to pound on me a while.

I highly recommend doing all of the above... and coming back to tell about it.

Speaking of death...

It occurs to me that I don't care to waste a moment of (whatever happens to be) the rest of my life on:

1. A single negative thought, action or statement that doesn't build the world up

2. A single regret because of my own inaction, laziness, fear or unwillingness to take a risk

3. Anthing that doesn't usher the amazing love of God and the wonderful Word of God into the world with grace, flair, joy, fun and maximum effectiveness

How about you?

Up to the Minute

After the events of the week, it occurs to me:

I don't want to be sharing my faith and living my mission up to the day I die.

I'd like to do it up to the minute.

Before And After Coronary Stent

Here's one of my blocked arteries before and after the stent was put in place on Friday.

I Died on Friday... Well, sort of

The last thing my daughter said to me on the day I died was, "Have fun!"

It was 5:15 AM. I was on my way out the door to an angiogram that turned into an angioplasty that turned into something more.

I leaned over her bed and kissed her on the forehead as I had done a thousand times before. This one seemed just a little more emotional, although I didn't know exactly why.

The procedure went fine. They found three arteries blocked, one 80%, one 60%, one 20%. They placed a metal wire stent in the worst one, and decided to moniter and medicate the rest.

I came to in the recovery room and everything was fine. I told my wife to go home rather than sitting there all day. She left, and within a few minutes I developed an embolism on my femoral artery where the incision had been made.

I was telling the nurse who was applying pressure on my artery how to do nightly "highs and lows" with her 13 year old son when, without warning, my heart decided to stop. Then my breathing stopped. And then for about a half a minute I guess I was sort of... er...

Dead.

Yes, if flat-lining with no heartbeat and not breathing technically qualifies you for being dead, I suppose I can say I was dead.

Just a little dead.

A dozen people rushed in the room (so I am told... I wasn't exactly there) and pounded on me, stuck a needle the size of a light saber in my heart and basically did all those heroic measures they are trained to do on me for a while before I came back.

No, I didn't see Jesus... but I guess he saw me.

Anyway, it's good to be on this side, but I'll be happy to be on that side, too.

Kathryn told me, "Have fun."

I think I did.

(PS They say nothing bad can ever happen to a preacher or a writer. It's all good material.)