An inconvenient sign

   There were signs posted at each check-out stand when I went to the market yesterday.  Big news! 

   “This year, Stater Brothers is giving time off to its employees so that they can enjoy time with their families.”

   So what does this mean?  The sign went on to note the special Thanksgiving hours: Wednesday, November 23, 7 a.m-11 p.m and Thursday, November 24, 7 a.m-5 p.m. 

   Gee.  Thanks.  Employees get to get off at 5 to rush home and likely enjoy a piece of pie with their families and maybe eat a plate of warm-overed leftovers before crashing after working so hard in the rush of people preparing for the big meal.  That someone else made because they were working, maybe until 11, the night before.

   Like I said, gee.  Thanks. 

   Is spending money so important that the market has to be open until 5 on Thanksgiving?  And this is closing early!  Does the market have to be open at all on Thanksgiving?  Would we all go crazy and fall apart if the market was closed on Thanksgiving? 

   Can’t we be sure to pick up that extra cranberry sauce or that last bottle of sparkling cider before Thanksgiving?  (I suspect we would if there was no choice.) Isn’t this why the market is open until 11 on Wednesday? 

   And what if the market closed early, say 5, on Wednesday – so that employees can get home at a reasonable hour, rest up and really enjoy Thanksgiving with their families? Would it be the end of society as we know it?  (Maybe a good thing.) Since when did convenience, our convenience, become so important, paramount? 

   It was clear that it is all about our convenience.  Not only is the market open until 11 on Wednesday and also until 5 on Thanksgiving, at the bottom of the sign, it said something like, “Thank you for your understanding.” As if we are put out by the store closing at 5 so that employees can spend a bit of time with their families and we are being asked to forgive this.

   Also, it’s as if Stater Brothers just came up with this idea – “this year.” Doesn’t the market usually close early on Thanksgiving? 

   And why does it need this explanation?  Why not just say, “We are closing early on Thanksgiving?” I realize that what really bugs me about this sign is that it’s an insult. It’s an insult to the workers, because it makes it look like it’s their fault the market is closing early, causing inconvenience for us, due to their perfectly understandable needs, if not rights, to rest, to spend time with loved ones, to have and enjoy time off.  It’s also an insult to the rest of us, or it should be, because it shows and makes us feel guilt for how much we expect convenience.

Hat trick

 

   What a difference a hat makes. 

   When I began going out in my wheelchair on my own, it was a huge step.  Although I was able to go a few blocks instead of miles as I used to go before my surgery, it gave me a real sense of liberation, being able to go out and be on my own, away from my attendants and not needing to rely on them. 

   However, I couldn’t go out like this if it wasn’t pretty warm, meaning below 80 degrees or perhaps even a bit higher.  Probably because of the neuropathy that I’ve had since the surgery, my arm would tighten or freeze up when it was cooler, and I would have a hard time driving my chair. There were times when I had difficulty getting home, Although it’s pretty warm here for a good part of the year, this did put a limit on this freedom.  It was all the more frustrating, because I particularly love going out on cool, crisp Fall and Winter days. 

   In fact, this is why I spent months last year going through the process of getting a “head array,” which allowed me to drive my chair with my head. (During these months, because I was afraid of getting stranded, I didn’t go out on my own, even though it was quite warm.)  I really thought it would solve the problem, but, after all the test driving (in a pretty controlled environment), I ended up having difficulty using it and not using it, and it was just in the way when I wasn’t using it – which was all the time.  So I had it removed and put away (perhaps for another day).

   Also, early this year, I decided to have my hair all cut off. It was time for a change and just made things easier, and I now keep my hair as short as possible without having my head shaved.  With my hair gone and my not using the head array and without the regular headrest which I also had removed this year, I realized that I could wear my hats again. 

   Over the years before my surgery, I collected quite a fun bunch of hats, which I used to dig wearing along with my overalls and high-tops or Doc Martens.  I’m not talking caps.  I’m talking cool beanies and Peruvian hats – the wool ones with ear flaps and yarn dangling down and able to be tied under the chin if desired. 

   So I began wearing my hats again and found – what do you know? – that I could go out alone in my chair when it was cooler. It’s said that most of your body heat escapes from your head, and it turns out this is true.  The hat keeps the heat in my body like a lid or even a heater. This means I can now go out on these nice Fall days.

   At least on most days.  I’ve been testing how cool is too cool or cold for me to go strolling.  It turns out that the upper 60’s is about my limit.  I can get by when it’s a bit cooler – low 60’s – but it’s not enjoyable.  When it’s colder, I may not totally freeze up and need my attendant to drive my chair as has happened in recent years.  (I’ll find out for sure in the coming months.) All this is good to know, and although I’m still trapped when it’s below the high 60’s, that’s still a good ten degrees cooler when I can go out on my own.  That’s ten more degrees, at least, of freedom. 

Whose Jesus is it anyway?

 

   “Shame on you!  Shame on you!... This is a house of Christ!  All this has nothing to do with Christ!... Read your Bible…!”

   The young man went on yelling as he walked slowly up the aisle with a couple children in tow.  Clearly, he was upset.  Clearly, this wasn’t what he was expecting on this Sunday morning at a church service. 

   Clearly, this wasn’t the right Sunday to be visiting this church seeking a Christ-centered message. 

   I visited the Claremont United Church of Christ this last Sunday, instead of going to Quaker meeting, for the performance of Raven Chacon’s Voiceless Mass, which won the 2022 Pulitzer Prize in music.  As a story in the Claremont Courier noted, this was to be the piece’s West Coast premiere and only its third live performance, with the composer present, and the service was to be “unlike anything the church had done in the past.”

   This I had to see.

   The piece was definitely unique – eerie and very modern, supposedly giving a voice to entities that aren’t usually heard or given a voice.  Not only is the 20-minute work unusual, it is done in an unusual, site-specific way, with the musicians placed throughout the sanctuary, accompanied by the church’s massive organ (which I didn’t really hear).

   But it wasn’t the piece, which turned out to be performed in the second half of the service, that upset the man.  He didn’t even stay for it. 

   The man’s outburst came while Chacon, who is Native American (and the first Native American to be awarded the Pulitzer), was giving a homily or prayer with voice and electronics, a la Laurie Anderson.  It was addressed to “mother” and asked for forgiveness for causing so much destruction of the earth. Not your usual Christian, Sunday morning prayer. (It was so different, so advent-garde, that, at first, I thought the outburst was part of the presentation!)   

   Never mind that, up until that, there had been much focus on Dia de los Muertos and honoring the dead.  What’s more, on this day before Halloween, there were children dressed up as princesses, witches and goblins. 

   All this – never mind the Voiceless Mass performance – was too much for the man.  Clearly, this was, for him, not what Christ is about. 

   Clearly, his Jesus wasn’t one that encouraged openness – and most likely one that wouldn’t approve of me, a gay man, much less at a Sunday service.  His concept of Jesus was rigid and restrictive, not one that provides a safe space to explore and discuss different ideas, identities and views.  One of the ministers, who followed him out of the sanctuary, said later that the man was a first-time attender – oops! Wrong Sunday, maybe the wrong church, to visit! – and that his protest was a reminder of, “a testimony to,” the importance of having a loving, open community wherein all are embraced.

   When another man in the congregation shouted to the protesting man to “go home,” it certainly didn’t model this vision of radical inclusion.  But it definitely added to the drama – and the challenge – of this Sunday morning.