Embarrassing Myself for Your Entertainment

I talk so much about the travel I’ve done and the travel I plan to do that I think there’s an assumption I’m travel-savvy at all times. Not true! I make plenty of travel blunders, and sometimes even repeat the same mistakes I’ve vowed to learn from.

at least I got the station right

Take a couple weeks ago, for example: it was the week before Christmas and I was going down to the south side of Chicago for dinner with my aunts and uncles. My dad was in town and would pick me up from the commuter train station, and we’d meet up with everyone else for dinner. The next day, Dad and I would drive up to Michigan together for holiday festivities. A simple plan. Hard to get it wrong. And yet…

It was a combination of factors. I had the day off of work, so I simultaneously over- and under-planned. I planned to fit too much stuff into the day–see my out-of-town friend! pack! run errands! all after a generous lie-in!–and then under-planned the time each one of those would take. So by the time my friend and I hugged goodbye, I had nothing packed and was supposed to leave my apartment ten minutes prior. I rushed around my house, tossing into a suitcase more clothes than I’d need and jewelry I knew I’d never wear. (Poor planning leads to poor packing, y’all.)

Then out the door, dash to the el, get off at La Salle, up the escalator, to the ticket booth, turn around and face the several trains awaiting passengers. Dearest fellow travelers, here is where I made the fatal mistake. Each train berth is headed up by an electronic sign detailing the time the train would depart and the stations it would call at. I glanced at the signs, found the soonest departure time, and walked confidently to that train. I seated myself, tucked my suitcase on the floor next to me, and turned the music up on my headphones. Note that at no point did I check the sign to see where I was going.

Next thing I knew, the train was in motion and the conductor came around to collect tickets. I handed him mine and he said, “Where are you going?” “99th Street,” I replied. “We’re not!” he said cheerily. Wait, what?

Not exactly a train to nowhere, just not to where I wanted to go

Yup, I’d got on an express train. It skipped right past 99th Street, past all the stops I recognized, and went on to a town I’d never heard of–Midlothian. Sounded like a villain from the Bible. I could get off at Midlothian to turn back, but the next train back to Chicago wouldn’t be for another 45 minutes and it was pretty cold out. Not only that, I’d got on a quiet car, where cell phones are forbidden, so I couldn’t even call my dad without stumbling over my suitcase and walking to the vestibule between cars. I stayed in my seat and texted madly, my face hot with embarrassment and my eyes prickling with tears (which only frustrated me more–this wasn’t so bad that I needed to cry about it! good grief).

It all worked out, of course. Dad kindly offered to pick me up in this mythical Midlothian, and we weren’t even late for dinner. Everyone ragged on me a little, which is only fair, after which the whole affair faded as we dug into our food.

But you’d better believe I was a little shaken; if I can’t even navigate a train system I’m familiar with, in my hometown, how on earth am I going to make it in cities with schedules written in non-Roman script and train staff not speaking English? With a lot more planning and a lot less rushing about, that’s how.

So take heart. If you’re an inexperienced traveler, know that no one has it perfect, so there’s no reason for the possibility of making mistakes to hold you back from heading out the door. And if you’re a more experienced traveler and never make such elementary mistakes, well, you sound about as mythical as Midlothian.

Photo 1. Photo 2.

Rockin’ Around the (Locally Grown, Hand-Sawed) Christmas Tree

I realize that not everyone celebrates Christmas. I have no trouble putting my head around the idea that most of the world’s population doesn’t believe in the immaculate birth of Jesus or even in the sacred maxing out of credit cards for plastic toys and cheap rum in late December. Those who do celebrate live all around the world, so there are plenty of Christmas revelers rockin’ around a palm tree or building sandcastles instead of snowmen. Despite the movies and songs about the season, it’s clear to any logical person that Christmas is not just a season expressed in gently falling snow and presents ’round a pine tree. But! If you are from a northern clime, celebrate Christmas, and have the space and money for it, I don’t see how you can go through your whole life without once cutting down your own tree.

I recently learned that one of my friends, who is from Michigan, has never cut down her own tree. Not only that, she’s only ever had artificial trees. Her family was worried about fire hazards, and I get that, but if you’re vigilant about keeping the tree watered and turning off the tree lights when you leave the house, a real tree is safe. And if you’re from Michigan, there are hundreds of places to go where you can select your own tree from a planted forest of them, which is a whole level of fun and adventure you can’t get from going to a lot.

I was in my hometown this past weekend for a couple of events, and while I was there, my parents and I got a tree. After an early setback (the first place we drove to was “closed for the season” — before Christmas?), we went on to Peacock Tree Farm in Laingsburg. Snow really was gently falling, so softly and slowly that I could inspect the individual flakes on my coat and see how different they were from one another. Not too many people were there, since a week before Christmas is too late for most folks (which is probably why the other place was closed), but we liked it that way. Just some fresh-faced workers, several red-nosed families, and a few eager dogs. I took some video of the afternoon so we can all take a look at what it’s like to cut down your own tree and get it back home for decorating. Don’t forget the egg nog.

I’ll be back in 2012 with more photos, essays, travel guides, guest posts, and interviews. Just nine months til I take off on my world trip–glad to have you readers along for the ride. Have a safe and restful holiday and see you in the new year!

A Stowaway From the Past: A Real Family Christmas

Hello dearest fellow travelers! I posted this musing on the original reason for the season last year, but since I feel pretty much the same about it now and am about to begin my time off of work, I’m re-posting it today. Also, stay tuned Thursday for a brand-new post, with video!

I went to church with my family every week for eighteen years, so even though I don’t practice anymore, I’m very interested in the theories and workings of Christianity and people who believe. Don’t get all upset that I’m going to proselytize at you just because I say “Jesus” a lot in this post. Oh and in case any clarification is needed, Pastor Kit graciously allowed me to read the written version of her sermon and quote from it, but don’t take that to mean she endorses any of the rest of this post. That religious right rant is all me, so don’t hold it against her.

Two years ago, I was sitting in my parents’ church on Christmas Eve when the priest, Pastor Kit Carlson, blew my mind. In her sermon, she suggested the idea that Jesus was not born in a lonely stable, but rather in a house full of extended family. Apparently, when Luke writes in his Gospel that “there was no room at the inn,” the word he used for “inn” was actually kataluma, which is more accurately translated as the guest room, or the upper room. And he’d used a totally different word for “inn” later on, when talking about the Good Samaritan, indicating that he wasn’t talking about an inn when he said Mary and Joseph couldn’t stay in the kataluma. The couple was returning to Joseph’s ancestral home for the census, after all; it is more likely than not that he had many relatives in town. Surely those relatives were ready to squeeze in and make room for Joseph and his very pregnant wife, and since there was no space available in the guest room, Mary and Joseph settled down in the main room on the first floor of the house. The homes of the time and region had a split-level first floor, with one side reserved for the humans and the lower side reserved for the animals. There was a gap in the wall between the two, and straw was placed here for the animals to eat. So Mary goes into labor, the women of the house gather ’round to help with the birth, and when Jesus arrives, he is indeed “wrapped in swaddling cloths and laid in a manger” — it’s just that the manger happens to be in the family home, rather than in a cold outdoor cave or stable.

JUMP BACK. What?

the traditional nativity sceneThis family picture was photoshopped

This could really change how we think about Jesus not just as the son of God (however you may feel about that), but also as a human, someone who was part of a larger family from his very first breath. As Pastor Kit said, “Jesus was not born into a simple nuclear family. Jesus was born into a clan… And this was how God chose to come into the world.” Obviously the Christmas story is one chock-full of symbolism, whether that symbolism indicates to you a larger truth or not. What does the symbolism of the traditional story say to us as opposed to this new view?

The usual way of looking at the story has Mary and Joseph as social outcasts, their only visitors people driven to the stable by supernatural forces. Only a few special people noticed how special Jesus was, and everyone else was cruelly indifferent or outright hostile to him and his parents. He had a hard and lonely road laid out for him, and that was clear from the start.

But if we look at the story from this new perspective, everything changes. Sure, the family still flees the country because King Herod is after them, but other than that, his parents are not rejected or treated badly. Jesus isn’t born into an uncaring world, but rather one full to bursting with extended family (all of them likely sharing conflicting advice with Mary the moment he pops out). His life path is still a difficult one, but the man who preaches love and peace for all humankind might have believed in these concepts more deeply based on a childhood full of both.

Perhaps Jesus’ extended family bickered a lot, or perhaps they got on well with one another. Maybe they blamed Mary for becoming pregnant before her wedding to Joseph or maybe they accepted the story that Jesus was a premie. The family might have been close or only seen each other once in a blue moon. Regardless of the exact make-up of the family, if they were there at Jesus’ birth and the days that followed, they were an important part of his early life. No matter what kind of family we’re born into, there’s no denying that they shape us, and now we can see how this might have been true for Jesus too.

the delightful family from "While You Were Sleeping"
Welcome to the world, kiddo! Here’s your family

A final note: Not to get too political (not that that’s a surprise on this blog, eh?), but I also think Jesus born into a large family can have implications for Americans in particular. Christians throughout history have clung to the idea of their persecution in the early days of the faith, and there are varying degrees of accuracy to that. However, the religious right in America is steadfast in the belief that this applies to contemporary America and themselves all the time. They seem to truly believe that they are being persecuted for their beliefs, despite the fact that Christianity is overwhelmingly the dominant religion in this country, and God is mentioned in our Pledge of Allegiance, our presidential oath, etc., not to mention you can’t get elected in this country without swearing up, down, and sideways that there has never been a more devoted follower of Jesus than yourself. Despite the fact that it’s non-Christians who continue to bear the brunt of intolerance, the religious right remains convinced.

I’m not saying there’s a direct line between the nativity and this false belief, but think about it: In the traditional story, Jesus and his family are turned away from inn after inn, ignored by their neighbors, and chased out of the country by a ruthless leader intent on their destruction. Jesus is all the more special because only a few recognize his specialness. Too much time focused on how special you are as compared to everyone else, and you can start to treat everyone else badly, which let’s face it, the religious right is really good at doing.

Okay, I know I’ve lost some of you here, and granted, it’s not the most well-thought-out theory, but man, they get so angry and exclusive, despite all Jesus’ actual teachings. They talk about a human family, but they make that family smaller and smaller — no gays, no non-Christians, no powerful women, no one too different from a narrowly defined category.

What if they thought of Jesus being born into a large, loving family instead? What if many people witnessed the birth and celebrated it? What if instead of being a misunderstood prophet from the start, Jesus was an appreciated addition to the family, despite the odd signs and portents surrounding his conception and birth? What if Jesus’ problems with fitting in only came later, and in the beginning his family accepted him for who he was and what he meant to them? What an inclusive way to view the virgin birth. What a wonderful way to start a story.

American Christians, instead of feeling put-upon and misunderstood, can look at this story and see a new way to view their current situation: just like all of us, they are born into this large, loud, extended family of humanity, and just like all of us, they can grow up and give back to this weird and wonderful family with love and joy. Just like Jesus.

New Centerstage Review Up

This is another recommended show: Opus at Redtwist Theatre up in Edgewater. It puts four people in a room (rotating out a fifth) and watches them implode after years of power struggles and a communal desire to reach new musical heights. Here’s an excerpt from my play review:

This structure teases out the subtleties of the relationship between Dorian (Paul Dunckel) and Elliot (Michael Sherwin), and their power struggle within both the bedroom and the rehearsal space. It’s partially a metaphor of which should ultimately reign in music-making, the head or the heart, but the metaphor never supersedes the humanity of these flawed, talented artists.

You can read the rest of the review here.

Pro tip: Don’t be late! Redtwist doesn’t have late seating and you will be sad as you watch the TV monitor in the lobby showing the play you can’t get into. I learned this when traffic made me all of five minutes late to opening night, and I had to come back the next day to actually see and review it. (Many thanks to the staff at Redtwist for accommodating me there.)

Christmas Downers: Tis the Season for Sad Music

As you can probably tell from all the Monday and Wednesday photo features, I’m really into Christmas. I have nothing but fond memories of the season, complete with cutting down our own tree, singing in the pageant at church, and gleefully opening presents from Santa. All that was set to a soundtrack of cheer, of course, and I start listening to Christmas music right around Thanksgiving (ok, ok, sometimes before).

aww have some egg nog and listen to this, you'll feel... about the same

But some of the best Christmas music is the sad stuff, the songs that address the melancholy inherent in a relentlessly upbeat holiday season. Once you’re grown and the magic of Christmas as a conduit for gifts and family visits has passed, the holiday gets shaded with new meanings, usually wistfully nostalgic. Whether it’s a lost love you can’t forget or just a general sense of loneliness, there’s nothing quite like the isolation you feel if you’re alone or blue during the season of nearly maniacal happiness. And I’d wager that most of us have felt that at some point during the long haul from Thanksgiving to Christmas Day. Here’s a playlist on Grooveshark for when you’re in that mood.

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