Where are you? You should be home. It’s sunny.
Oh wait, is that a bird. Hmmm. Hey, there’s a rabbit. Well, who cares where you are.. I can soak up the sun, and watch birds eat your new grass seed, and the neighbors wander around… and the rabbit hop. Oh.. there’s that dog. I don’t like dogs. I could scratch him.. yes, yes, scratch him.
Oh wait is it nap time? *yawn*. I should sleep.
An early rise.
Breakfast with a mentee, doing that mentor thing.
A large cuppa joe.
Early AM work on the tablet PC.
Sunny Skies.
Ahhh, Fridays.
I’m not Catholic. I was raised Methodist and go through my days today mostly agnostic, but I do have my moments.
Last year for Christmas, some family gave me a book called Conclave, by John Allen, the Vatican Bureau Chief for the National Catholic Reporter. John is probably one of the best writers on the subject of the Catholic Church and the Vatican I’ve ever read. His book, Conclave, is a fascinating read on the events that we just watched unfold in Rome.
He writes, in his column The Word from Rome, of his own response to the death of Pope John Paul II:
Oddly enough, having prepared for these experiences night and day for more than five years, having run through endless scenarios on both logistical and journalistic fronts, the one thing that I never accounted for is that I would also have a personal, emotional response. After all, a man died, and not just any man — John Paul loomed incredibly large in my life. I met him eight times, traveled with him to 21 nations, and probably wrote millions of words about him all told. While I realize there are perfectly reasonable criticisms to be made of various aspects of his papacy, what seems to me beyond question is that he was a man of deep faith and integrity, a genuinely good person striving by his lights to serve God, the church, and all of humanity. His final days taught me, and taught all of us, how to face impending death with both grit and grace, and it’s a lesson I will never forget.
All that came to a crescendo during the funeral Mass, as I was sitting next to Christiane Amanpour and my colleague Delia Gallagher on the CNN set, watching the papal gentlemen pick up the pope’s casket and turn it around for one final farewell to the crowd in St. Peter’s Square. At that moment I had to choke back tears, realizing in an instant that I would never write another sentence about John Paul II in the present tense.
You don’t say goodbye to someone like John Paul without a sense of loss.
I have more thoughts on Allen’s writings and on my own emotional and spiritual response to the death of the Pope to say in the coming days…
On the left, the Apple Powerbook G4 (2003 version), an iPod 20GB, some business cards, a glass of water.
On the right, a Motion 1400VA TabletPC (Sitting on the portable keyboard as my stand is in Minneapolis), connected to the fullsize USB keyboard.
In the middle, an empty coffee mug, an old presentation, a Nextel i730 cell phone.
Somewhere.. a Motorola 5.8ghz phone connected to Vonage’s VOIP service.. with a Minneapolis number even (I live near Boston presently, but work in Minneapolis)..
Strewn about – alot of chicken scratch that I’m trying hard to turn into something meaningful on the Tablet using Microsoft Visio. It eventually turned out well!
Over at Instapundit is this little ditty about the Assault Weapons ban:
PERHAPS THIS IS BECAUSE IT WAS ALWAYS A CROCK, but The New York Times notices that ending the assault weapons ban didn’t matter: Despite dire predictions that the streets would be awash in military-style guns, the expiration of the decade-long assault weapons ban last September has not set off a…
It’s always been a crock. As a criminal justice major in college, I knew it to be a crock then. It’s a crock now.
Ever read the Second Amendment? Gun control is not the way to go. NYC had major drops in crime without needing additional gun control.
It can be done.
Massachusetts, among other odd provisions, celebrates April 19th each year as Patriot’s Day.
Many recognize this as the day that the Boston Marathon is run from Hopkinton down to downtown Boston – others recognize it as the day that the Red Sox play a morning game at storied Fenway Park… but the reality is far different.
April 19th, 1775 is the day that the British marched on Concord and Lexington, two small towns west of Boston, in an effort to seize the powder and ammunition stored there.
They failed, of course, because the minutemen stood their ground. And from there on, the War was on. The War that made us free.
A bit belated, but Happy Patriot’s Day!
“Contemplate the mangled bodies of your countrymen, and then say,
‘What should be the reward of such sacrifices?’ Bid us and our
posterity bow the knee, supplicate the friendship, and plough,
and sow, and reap, to glut the avarice of the men who have let
loose on us the dogs of war to riot in our blood and hunt us from
the face of the earth? If ye love wealth better than liberty, the
tranquility of servitude than the animating contest of freedom,
go from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or arms. Crouch
down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains sit
lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our
countrymen!”
– Samuel Adams
12.48 miles, 53.36 minutes, 531.27 calories (62.44 fat grams)