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John Maxwell

Timothy Lavelle

Source.

Keep the dough. Buy yourself a beer n a dog at the park. 

John Maxwell

Timothy Lavelle

Jack,

I meant to go back and add a PS and found your latest. I apologize...I am not back to posting casually...but I have been wanting to extol an old mate of yours for awhile. Yer bud from back about 150 years ago...dies 1879....Jimmie C. Maxwell or James as his Mom called him when he played with matches.

At 73 I have discovered anew how dumb I am or how impossible it is at this advanced age to "learn radio"...or chemistry or nuclear energy or hallucinogens or any really hard subject at the deep level I wanted to learn it. We all know how to turn on a radio...I want to understand what exactly happens at all levels of operation.

But...your boy "JazzMax" as his physics homeys called him....before anyone ever had a single thought about radio...he used nothing more than a pencil and paper to mathematically show the existence of what we call radio waves. So, let me say that again...he took something invisable and totally unknown...you know...like the existence of a diety for example...and put it on paper for others to study. So many aspects of that are amazing. Soooo, when I get high and am tempted toward negative thoughts, I think of Jimmie C and what a dipshit he would have considered me. AND I have hope.

No mas. No mas.

Michael McLeod

If you have pbs I highly recommend the three part profile of Ernest Hemingway that is going to run this month.

Ken Burns has had it on his schedule for years.

Like any American writer of my generation worth a hoot I've been inspired by "Papa"   - in my case ever since I read "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber" in college. Later on I wound up writing about him for various reasons and interviewed two of his three sons and one granddaughter in the process and even did a story about the Hemingway lookalike contest they have in Key West every year.

His public persona was and remains so very different from his achievements and innovations as a writer, and the doc - judging from the previews I've seen - does a splendid job of bringing that out. One thing I never factored in about him is the influence that his mother's preoccupation with opera may have had on him. Opera goes to the extremes and that's what Hemingway wound up doing in his writing - and, yes, in his public and private life. I think I would have been a writer regardless but he was surely my spirit guide, lighting the path  - from heights I knew I could never reach - along the way. I keep going back to immerse myself in him. Looks like at least one more time.

Joseph D. McCarthy

Pleas Mr. Maxwell.  How far(ris) will you go to discuss Ferris Wheels?

But I do want to celebrate, a little early, the achievements of a man who set a record that will never be broken.  After he completed his feat he was never allowed (barred for life) to try it again.  As it turns out he died at the age of 34 in 1968 when a Mig-15 training aircraft he was flying crashed.  Yuri Gagarin become the first person to fly in space on April 12, 1961.  If memory serves me I was in the end of Seventh grade; or I might have been in detention or mass.  It was 60 years ago. 

Michael McLeod

ha that's great. detention and mass. the lifestyle of a sinful catholic schoolboy

David Mitchell

March Madness

I'm feeling really old today.   "How old Dave?" 

Well I am so old that I can remember way back when March Madness was only 32 teams and was done before the end of March. In fact I can remember clear back when it was only 16 teams and I celebrated the "Sweet Sixteen" with my sixteenth birthday party, which included the "Elite Eight" group of Tom Litzinger, Kevin Ryan, John Jackson, Joe Royce, Mike Haggerty and his brother Tim (by whom I was uspset when he stayed, but it helped us put 4 against four on the court), and the two "outsiders" - Tom McKeon and Steve Hodges.  

I wish I could put my hands on a photo of six of us forming a human pyramid in our front lawn beside the driveway, with me on all fours, on the top of 5 other "OLP Boiz".

And there was an earlier birthday with a small group of that OL P group. I seem to recall they stayed late to watch the Buckeyes suffer one of those humiliating losses to those doggone Cincinnati Bearcats. Talk about a Birthday Bummer. 

GO BUCKS ! (maybe next year)

Michael McLeod

I can still feel the sting of that loss to Cincy. My dad called them "river rats." Jerry Lucas was hobbled. My big sister would be upstairs saying the rosary on behalf of the boys. To no avail. So much for God being on our side. And you wonder why I turned into an atheist.

James Hamilton, M. D.

Folks,

Although spring officially began two weeks ago, I have always associated the start of it with Easter.

Easter and spring are times of renewal and this year we all are ready for some renewal or at least a return to some degree of normalcy. Janet and I finally got our second Pfizer vaccines on 1 April and now await for our "full" immune response. (By the way, neither of us experienced any side effects.) And, yes, we will still wear masks and practice social distancing under the appropriate circumstances.

Except for one trip into the mountains in September I have not used a camera much in the past year. That gave me an opportunity to go over some of my prior photographs and start some projects that I have wanted to do for some time. 

I have often considered making a "coffee table" book through one of several online sites that are available but have not done so. Those can actually get quite costly and require more time than I want to devote to such a project. So, what I have done is put together a brief story that I wanted to tell with images and posted it on my Zenfolio website. The link below will take you to that specific gallery for those interested in viewing it. 

I hope you enjoy the images, the introductory comments and the captions explaining each picture.

https://mountainmemories.zenfolio.com/p245177379

I think the theme of this gallery also is a story of renewal!

Happy Easter to all!

Jim

Michael McLeod

happy to hear you and your wife joined the club Jim.

Adds to the promise of spring.

David Mitchell

Jim,

Enjoyed your gorgoeus photos (both here and by email).

How very symbolic for Easter, the flow of new water from a fresh mountain spring.

A time for new beginnings.

James Hamilton, M. D.

Dave,  

Yes, renewal is a good theme for that gallery although it was not my original intent when I started it years ago, but Easter seemed like a good time to post it. 

Sorry you got a "double dose" but you and a couple of other classmates are also on my "photo group" email list.

Jim

David Mitchell

I only wish I could answer with some great shots of sunsets on the May River from my dock, but I have had my "new" used camera almost a year and have done nothing with it yet. The May river is Johnny Mercer's inspiration for his oscar winning song "Moon River" (he was from Savannah and had a summer house here in Bluffton on the river.)

Maybe soemday I will get it together.

James Hamilton, M. D.

Dave,  

The May River is on the last leg of that "Journey" I described with those photos. A shot of that would be a cool ending to the story! 

Jim 

Michael McLeod

Better late than never.

A touching Easter essay:

My father died, of melanoma, 35 years ago on the 30th of March. It was Easter Sunday.

At the hour of his death, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony was playing on WFLN, in Philly. It had always been his favorite piece of music. I heard church bells ringing from the Presbyterian chapel down the street — St. Johns, in Devon, Pa. I stood there by my father’s body, listening, the bells pealing over the muffled music of the symphony.

Years before, when I was in college, my mother used to send me a hyacinth on Easter. I would stumble out of my dormitory room to find the flower sitting on the floor in the hall before making my way to Wesleyan’s Memorial Chapel, sometimes so hung over that standing up straight was itself an Easter miracle. One Sunday, the college chaplain just looked out at us all and said, joyfully, “He is not here!”

He was quoting Matthew 28:6, the verse where the angel speaks to the grieving Mary Magdalene: “Do not be afraid, for I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here. He has risen, just as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.”

I had grown up practicing a strange mash-up of atheism, my mother’s Lutheran faith and the Catholicism my father had abandoned as a teenager. Then, in my 20s, I started going to Quaker meetings. One Easter Sunday an elder stood up and said, “What does this day mean? Did Christ really rise from the dead?” He smiled, and shrugged.

“We weren’t there, so who knows? All we really know of God is what we can see in the eyes of our fellow men and women. But today is the day we think, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if it were true?’”

That very particular interpretation of Easter stayed with me. Since then I have tried, now and again, to look for God in the eyes of my fellow humans. Wouldn’t it be nice if the story of the resurrection were true? It would.

But a lot of times, when I look in strangers’ eyes, instead of God I just see fear and anger.

That is not all I see there, of course. Lately I see other things, too — signs of longing, signs of hope. After a year of worldwide death and despair, something new may be finally beginning. Like the song we hear as Dorothy and company make their way to the gates of the Emerald City: You’re out of the woods, you’re out of the dark, you’re out of the night. Step into the sun, step into the light.

The title of this song, I recently learned, is “Optimistic Voices.”

Easter is about rebirth: life from death, spring from winter, hope from despair. I am uncertain and skeptical about much of the Bible. I call myself a Christian, but even now I cannot honestly tell you if I believe an actual man named Jesus was resurrected. Certain parts of the story feel sketchy.

But my faith is less about that than the power of love: like the love my mother had for me, sending me a hyacinth when I was far from home; like the love my father had for Beethoven, and for my mother and sister and me; like the love that we could all have for each other if we were only less full of fear.

Twenty years to the day after my father died, I was sitting on top of a volcano on Easter Island, the most remote inhabited island in the world. I’d been sent there to do a story on the way tourism was transforming the island, a place famous for its moai, the iconic stone heads carved from volcanic rock. On my final morning on the island, I arranged to be driven to the quarry where the heads were carved, in order to be on the volcano’s rim at the moment of sunrise.

I had somehow forgotten that it was the anniversary of my father’s death. As I moved alone through a thick fog up the side of the volcano I felt like I was being watched.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the dark. One of those big stone heads suddenly loomed out of the mist; it was a particularly huge one that my guide the day before had told me was called “grandfather.”

I never met my paternal grandfather; he died when my own father was 12. But I had a sudden flash of him as I looked at that statue. “Oh papa,” I thought. “Just let me pass.”

The footsteps grew closer. My heart pounded. I had no idea what was drawing near.

And then a wild horse stepped out of the fog. The horse looked right at me. For a long moment, we stared at each other, the horse and I. Then he turned and disappeared back into the mist.

A half-hour later, I was on the rim of the volcano, watching the sun burst above the Pacific. As the sun drew higher in the sky, the morning fog burned away.

That was when I remembered that it was the anniversary of my father’s death.

The place where I was now had been called Rapa Nui by its native people, but Dutch explorer Jacob Roggeveen called it Easter Island, after the day he first arrived in 1722.

Did Christ rise from the dead? I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But I know that I am here on earth because my father loved my mother. There are hyacinths rising in my garden. I know what it is like to be loved.

He is not here. But his spirit is all around: in the music of Beethoven, in the pealing of church bells, in the rays of the sun rising above the ocean. And in our reckless, inexplicable hope for this banged-up world, a place so beautiful and so sad.

Jennifer Finney Boylan, a contributing opinion writer, is a professor of English at Barnard College. Her most recent book is “Good Boy: My Life in Seven Dogs.” Her Op-Ed essays publish on alternate Wednesdays. You can follow her on Twitter:  @JennyBoylan

Mary Margaret Clark (Schultheis)

Mike, thank you for sharing a most poignant and thought-provoking essay for this Easter season. On a similar note, I was particularly struck by the authenticity of one of the readings for Easter Sunday on this very matter taken from Acts:34   

Peter proceeded to speak and said:  “You know what has happened all over Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John preached how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power. He went about doing good and healing all those oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. We are witnesses of all that he did both in the country of the Jews and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree. This man God raised on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commissioned us to preach to the people and testify that he is the one appointed by God as judge of the living and the dead. To him all the prophets bear witness, that everyone who believes in him will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.”

I have always been a great lover of history, as the written words of the events that have been recorded throughout the course of thousands of years of human existence. Obviously, as we have not been eyewitnesses to these events, it is left to us to rely on our reason, wisdom and faith to believe in the veracity of the authors' words. So it is with the matter of the Scriptures and what they reveal to us of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. At the risk of making this a much longer post, I offer this as food for thought as well as the link at the end which provides more food for thought on any number of culure and faith topics.  Additionally, for anyone interested there is currently available your choice of either a widely acclaimed podcast or a book titiled, The Bible in a Year.

Christianity stands or falls on the miracle of the Resurrection. St. Paul addresses this very question in the fifteenth chapter of his first letter to the Corinthians:

I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. . . .

[I]f Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain. We are even found to be misrepresenting God, because we testified of God that he raised Christ, whom he did not raise if it is true that the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised. If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile (1 Cor. 15:3-8, 14-17).

Put simply, if Christ is not raised from the dead, then the whole Christian religion is vain. It’s all or nothing, and all depends on the evidence for Easter. While five philosophical proofs are useful, arguments about the existence of God should really begin with the Easter argument.

Did the first-century Jewish preacher Jesus of Nazareth rise from the dead or not? If he did, then miracles are possible, and God exists.

Christians claim that the historical human being Jesus of Nazareth was executed then physically rose from the dead. He was seen alive by many people and then was seen to vanish into the invisible realm. Here we have the most revolutionary and radical question of human history: Did it really happen?

There are only three options: that Jesus rose from the dead as Christians contend; that Jesus of Nazareth didn’t really die; or that he died but his body somehow disappeared, and his disciples came to believe that he had risen from the dead. The first question therefore is, “Did Jesus really die?”

Did Jesus really die?

After his trial, Jesus of Nazareth was tortured by flogging. The Romans flogged a criminal with whips that had pieces of glass, pottery, and metal tied into the cords. Not only was Jesus flogged to within an inch of his life, but his executioners were professionals whose jobs depended on them doing a thorough job.

His flogging public was public, and so was his execution. He was taken through the city streets and crucified in a public place. Furthermore, his enemies themselves were present to make sure the job was done. This is recorded in the Gospels, and the basic facts match what we know of Roman customs of the time, so there is no reason they should be doubted.

Taking Hume’s idea that we must believe the option that is easiest to believe, to believe that Jesus was not killed on that dark afternoon is more incredible than to believe he was. If he was not killed, then the disciples made up the story of his execution. But why would devotees of a religious preacher make up the story that he was executed as a criminal and that it was a public event? Many people saw it take place. We must conclude that Jesus of Nazareth was crucified.

Nevertheless, some theorize that it wasn’t really Jesus who died. It was perhaps his brother James, who resembled him; or it was Judas, or a celebrity lookalike who stood in for Jesus. Again, it takes more credulity to believe these theories than the simple truth. The reason Judas kissed Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane was to confirm his identity, and in the courtyard of the high priest Peter was certain who he was denying. An impostor or a stand-in? Surely when things became deadly the patsy would have denied that he was Jesus Christ.

Jesus only fainted

Another theory is that it was Jesus on the cross, but he didn’t really die. Perhaps he was drugged and simply passed out. The Gospel says a soldier offered him painkiller, but he refused it. If Jesus only passed out, we must believe that the man was flogged so that the torture ripped great chunks of flesh from his body. After dragging the heavy cross through the city streets, he was nailed to it by professional executioners who, instead of breaking his legs to hasten his death, stabbed him with a spear through the heart. Water and blood came from the wound, and modern medical experts testify that this happens only after death.

But we’re to believe that he only passed out or went into a coma? Again, this is more difficult to believe than the reported story. And it gets more difficult.

Let us suppose that Jesus did somehow survive the flogging, the crucifixion, and the thrust of the spear. After he was taken down he was buried. Now we have to believe that he woke up in a freezing tomb on a chilly spring morning. Having suffered a huge blood loss, terrible wounds, a spear in the side, and unspeakable shock and trauma, he stops to unwrap his own tightly wound shroud and head cloth, and he takes care to fold them neatly at the foot of his bed. Then (from the inside) he rolls back a stone from the entrance of the tomb that weighs a couple of tons.

He then stumbles out, naked, and limps up to the disciples on his bloody feet, with his back looking like a butcher shop. His head is covered with puncture wounds and contusions. His side has a gaping wound. He shows the disciples his hands, and gasps out a greeting.

What would you have done? You would have shrieked in horror and realized that your friend had somehow survived a most terrible ordeal, and then you would have taken him home, called the doctor, and put him to bed. Instead we are supposed to believe that the disciples said, “He is risen! Alleluia!”

Again, it takes more faith to believe such an outrageous theory than to accept the simple events as they were related. Hume was right. We must believe the option that is most probable.

Something strange happened to his body

The next category of Resurrection deniers say Jesus really did die, but something else happened to his body. Consequently his disciples came to believe that he had risen from the dead.

Was his body thrown in the dump to be devoured by dogs, as was the Roman custom for crucified criminals? We know from other evidence that the Jews were very careful about burying the bodies of their loved ones, and the details of the story are there in the Gospels. His friends took the body to bury it. If the body had not been buried, why did Jesus’ enemies ask Pilate for guards for the tomb?

Maybe the disciples stole the body. Shall we believe that the eleven men who fled in terror when their leader was arrested suddenly got back together and planned a heist worthy of a Mission Impossible film? Why would they do that? They were as surprised as everyone else by the Resurrection. Would they really plan such a heist to perpetrate a hoax? Is this the sort of hoax anyone would believe? No. You only plan a hoax if the hoax is something people might just fall for.

Did they perpetrate the hoax to start a new religion? Why would they do that? What was in it for them? There was no such thing as starting a religion to be a prosperity preacher back then. As history proved, the only thing they got out of it was the loss of all their worldly goods, persecution, imprisonment, torture, homelessness, and eventually for many, martyrdom.

Did the disciples go to the wrong tomb? If they had, would they have drawn the conclusion that Jesus had risen from the dead? No. They would have said, “Whoops, wrong tomb. Hey, we messed up again!” Had Jesus been in another tomb, his enemies would have produced the body and pointed out the disciples’ mistake. Once again, to believe the alternative theory is more difficult than to believe the traditional account.

The “spiritual” explanation

Then we have the modernist theologian’s answer: The Resurrection was not a crudely physical event but a “spiritual reality.” In other words, in some sort of wonderful way the teachings and example of Jesus continued to live in the hearts and minds of his followers and this, if you like, is what Resurrection is really all about.

The problem here is that the simple meaning of the word resurrection is that a body that was dead came back to life. There are spiritual meanings to be derived from this fact, to be sure, but if there were no physical fact, then the spiritual meanings would be meaningless. Saying that the Resurrection was not a physical but a spiritual event is something like a woman on her wedding night denying her husband the consummation of their marriage by saying, “We needn’t be quite so crudely physical as to have sexual intercourse. Marriage is, after all, simply a beautiful spiritual idea.”

The modernist theologian’s reductionist explanation doesn’t account for the simple facts of the whole story. Shall we believe that the apostles went on to follow lives of hardship, suffering, and deprivation, finally being tortured and killed for what was merely a “spiritual meaning” or a “beautiful theological idea”?

When faced with the slow torture of crucifixion or being flayed or boiled alive, don’t you think they would have said, “Hold on! All that Son-of-God-resurrection stuff? You misunderstood! It didn’t really happen! It was only a spiritual meaning. It was a metaphor! A theological construct!”

Finally, we have some biblical scholars’ theory that St. Paul and the Gospel writers invented the Resurrection story to bolster their new religion. There are too many implausible details to go into at this point, but the main obstacle to this conspiracy theory is that St. Paul died only thirty years after the death of Jesus himself, and he reported that the stories he had about the Resurrection were facts he himself had received from others. If Paul or the Gospel writers had made it all up, there were still plenty of eyewitnesses alive who would have corrected them—not least the murderous enemies of the new religion.

The fact of the Resurrection is a good starting point for the debates about God’s existence. Arguments with atheists can move forward in an intriguing way, because the arguments surrounding the Resurrection are more concrete and literal than philosophical arguments. They bring the argument about God down to earth—which is what the Christian religion is all about in the first place 

ttps://media.ascensionpress.com/category/ascension-presents/fr-mike-schmitz/

Michael McLeod

Well, mm, that's appropriate for the season. Those two posts cover the waterfront. To some, spirituality is a mystery. To others, it's fact-based, as avowed in the last paragraph of the essay above, though he'd probably prefer to call it a mystery based on fact.

However you parse it I'm happy to live in a country that respects both sides. More accurately, many sides. If there is a God, I'm sure she's proud of us. Sometimes.

Mark Schweickart

Jim – I just want to say that I love your photography. Really beautiful work. Thanks for sharing these.

Since I, unfortunately, have had a couple of deaths in the family this year, my wife and I have been going through old photos, and pulling out ones to have digitized for the sake of putting something together family memorabilia booklets. In doing so, it became quite apparent that my own photographic compulsions in the past were perhaps not unlike your own, or as Maddy would say, "Damn Mark, there are never any people in your shots!" And it is true. I was always looking for interesting physical compositions, and spent little time documenting family gatherings or even her and myself at our vacation locations. Although my photos may not be as good as yours, nonetheless,  I certainly appreciate the impulse to capture natural objects, just as you do. By the way, speaking of making your photos into book-form, we have had success using the on-line site,  Shutterfly. Their tools are easy to use, and the pricing very reasonable. (Actually, I can only assume the tools are easy to use, but don't really know first hand. Maddy takes charge of that chore, and seems to handle easily the putting together of photos in various formats.)

James Hamilton, M. D.

Folks,

It seems that this Forum has begun to tackle the realm of theology. I am no theologian. I am a simple man who has strong beliefs and faith in certain things. 

I think MM presented some good arguments that a man named Jesus was crucified, died and was buried. Scripture gives us good arguments to support the Resurrection. Since none of us were actually there during those events, it comes down to us as to whether we have belief and faith.

Here are a couple of questions:

     Can one have faith in something that he or she does not believe?

     Can one have belief in something that he or she does not have faith?

Think about it...

Mark,

Thanks, Mark. Shutterfly works for a lot of people and Janet and I have nieces who make up yearly calendars and other booklets on that medium. There are some other sites that are perhaps better for landscape images but I am still undecided as to pursuing them yet.

Actually, I do a lot of "people" photography at family gatherings as I have become the "dedicated photographer" for those functions. Yearly Christmas photographs of the ever enlarging family back in Ohio (Janet's side) is often like hearding cats but with a good tripod, using bounce technique flash, a remote release (so I can be in the picture) and some tricks I use so everybody's eyes are open have paid off over the years. These are images I don't print except for those involved and, on my Zenfolio website, are password protected for individuals privacy.

Jim

Michael McLeod

So touched by the first segment of the Hemingway bio. His persistence, his complexity, his scope, his delicacy - (though I know that's a word that countradicts the stereotype), his place in American history and letters, and his triump turned to tragedy -- there's no equalling it. I'm also fascinated by that time period -- America, as full of itself as a bright, cocky adolescent, coming into its own and taking its place for the first time as a leader on the world stage. Hem kinda led the way. 

Joseph D. McCarthy

Can at least one of our English majors please explain to me how or when the pound symbol ( # ) became the hashtag ( # ) symbol?   Just wondering.

Joe

Michael McLeod

Apparently the copyright ran out.

Michael McLeod

My take on the perils of teaching online:

https://winterparkmag.com/2021/03/31/its-bumpy-but-also-enlightening/

Joseph D. McCarthy

Time for some space filler, or something few will be interested in - At First.

I just finished reading the November issue of Car and Driver (my brother-in-law saves them for me until we get together for dinner).  One article in particular stood out.

George Poteet was attempting to drive the "SPEED DEMON", the fastest Piston driven vehicle in the world at the Bonneville Salt Flats in 2020 in an attempt to set a new world record for Piston Driven vehicles. His goal was to set one over 450 mph.  Poteet has gone faster than 400 mph more than 50 times while setting more than 20 records in land speed racing.

On the first day's fastest pass was 447.709 mph - followed by a crackle on the radio that the car was on fire.  Unfazed Poteet asked if it was bad enough that he needed to climb out of the vehicle; it's hard on his knees.  The answer was "It's on fire.  You have to get out".

They worked all night rewiring and putting in the spare engine.

Over the next few days he made multiple runs over 400 mph.  Then culminating in two runs fast enough to average a NEW AA Blown Fuel Streamliner class record of 470.015.

George Poteet was 72 years young when he set the new record.

Dave, have you ever thought of .......

Joe