New Salem Pics Uploaded!

Here is the link to the album of today's Easter pictures.

Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

Merry Christmas from Novosibirsk!

Christmas Eve at St. Andrew's Parish, the cathedral church of the SELC in Novosibirsk, Siberia

[Note: Just passing along Professor Ludwig's greetings - Ed.]

Christmas Greetings from Siberia 2012

Christ is born! May His light be your joy and salvation.

Peace in Him,
Rev. Alan Ludwig
LCMS Missionary to Siberia

Please Pray for Father Pavel

The Rev. Pavel Zayakin is a faithful parish pastor and evangelist in the Siberian Evangelical Lutheran Church, a sister church body with the Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod.

I wrote about meeting Father Pavel here and here.  He is a heroic worker for the kingdom of God.

Anyway, the Most Rev. Vsevolod Lytkin, bishop of the SELC, wrote this on November 9:

Last Saturday afternoon Fr.Pavel Zayakin drove his car from remote village to Abakan [in the mountainous republic of Khakassia not far from Mongolia - Ed.], but accidentally gone out of road and turned upside down.

As road was empty, and nobody was to help, they walked to a nearest village.  They found a man with excavator who helped to turn the car back to the road.

The passengers and Fr.Pavel are OK but we need to organize medical checkup  for him.We ask you to pray for Fr.Pavel and his passengers.

In Christ,

Vsevolod,

bishop, SELC

If you would like to help, you can e-mail Bishop Vsevolod at vsevolodlytkin@hotmail.com or contact the Siberian Lutheran Mission Society at their website here: http://siberianlutheranmissions.com/.

Here are pictures of the accident sent by the bishop.  Lord, have mercy, and thanks be to God for his protection of this faithful servant and priest of the Lord Most High!  Our pastors in Siberia must often navigate treacherous roads as they provide pastoral care to people in remote areas.  Please keep them in your prayers on a regular basis!  

All the (Not So) Young (Joe) Dudes

"All the Young Dudes", as performed by Bruce Dickinson

My friends and I owe a debt of gratitude to Tim "Ripper" Owens, former front-man of the British heavy metal superband Judas Priest (among other well-known metal acts).

Before he became a world famous rock star, he was an ordinary kid from Akron, Ohio who delivered office supplies by day and sang in local heavy metal bands by night - including our hometown heroes U.S. Metal - crafting an epic stage persona and cultivating his resonant mega-voice. My friends and I met Tim a few times, but never really got to know him. He replaced our old buddy Jimmy Williams as the lead singer for U.S. Metal when Jim headed out to California in search of stardom (he became a co-founder of Graven Image and became a local heavy metal institution in his own right in L.A.).

Through an absolutely amazing turn of events, Tim realized his dream and was invited to become the lead singer of his all-time favorite band, Judas Priest. He went from being just Tim from Akron to being the platinum-throated globe-trotting "Ripper" and touring with world-class celebrities. 

But in spite of his success, Ripper did not develop an ego problem and put Akron, Ohio (and his old friends) in the rear view mirror (and I know who my northeast Ohio friends are thinking about just now...).  By every account, Tim remains a nice guy, a family man, one who often looks for ways to support worthy causes, who can still belt it out with his big bombastic, even operatic, vocal apparatus. Although he tours around the world in various heavy metal music projects, Ripper owns a local bar and restaurant in Akron. He has not turned his back on his old friends - including Jimmy Williams, his predecessor in U.S. Metal who was a kind of voice coach and mentor for him as a young singer.

In fact, Tim recently did something very cool.

U.S. Metal Coming Back?

He set up a reunion of his old bandmates in U.S. Metal to sing at the local Rockin' on the River in Cuyahoga Falls (the Akron suburb where I grew up). Word spread like wildfire thanks to facebook. Back in the 1980s, U.S. Metal developed a fanatical following of young northeast Ohio rock and rollers - including myself and my three friends: Rick, Ron, and Tim.

At that time, I was working as a software consultant in New York. I would fly or drive back to Ohio every other weekend. My friends Rick and Ron Gjurkovitsch (brothers and fellow alumni from Walsh Jesuit High School) and Tim Cerepak (who worked with me at my aunt's restaurant when we were teenagers) would converge on Friday nights wherever the guys were playing: the venue I most remember being Ramon's Nightclub - though there were a few others, such as the Temple Tavern (Akron), Genesis and Filthy McNasty's (Kent) or even at a rollerskating rink in New Philadelphia (which for me was a cold ride in the back of a pickup truck, though I earned a warm spot in the driver's seat on the way back by virtue of abstinence).

On Friday nights, it was off with the silk ties, jackets, dress slacks, pencil protectors, and away from the computer terminals, and on with the tattered jeans, leather jackets, bandannas, and chains. We would stand right in front of the stage (probably having scarred eardrums to this day) and "mosh" with the band. As they played, we would mess with them mercilessly. We would grab their feet, their instruments, and try to crack them up.  It's a wonder they didn't hate our guts. But they seemed to like having us around. We were backstage before the show and after the show.  One of the guys' girlfriends once sniffed, "He likes being around you guys more than me!"

U.S. Metal sang all the well-known covers of metal tunes from the late sixties up until the contemporary standards of the period - with a few originals thrown in. Jimmy Williams fronted the act either bare-footed, in socks, or wearing over-the-top fuzzy slippers - providing an interesting contrast to his leather and chains. He played the lead role as a true showman.  He shrieked, growled, grinned, and strutted around with his long locks trailing behind - typically downing beers between songs - which must have provided and interesting flavor clash with his ubiquitous cherry Halls lozenges. Scott Jones had tightly-curled tresses down his back, always a smile on his face, and played his guitar with energy, precision, and sheer joy. Chris Jones (Scott's brother) was more reserved (as bass players often seem to be), sporting a full-blown 80s mullet and laying down the intricate bass lines like a walk in the park. Rick Shore played the drums like a madman, on one occasion leaping over his drum kit and brandishing his sticks like nunchaku as a fight was about to break out in the audience.

On one occasion, a couple of us spent the day with the band on one of the beautiful lakes near Akron. It was relaxing and crazy at the same time. We almost sank the boat twice. It's a wonder it was able to float at all with so much beer aboard.  I hope the statute of limitations has passed.

Rick, Ron, Tim, and I even had a collective nickname: the Joe Dudes. This was because we called everyone "Joe." Jimmy (being the singer) was "Joe Singer." Chris (the bass player) was (you guessed it) "Joe Bass." Scott was "Joe Guitar."  Rick was "Joe Drums" - although we sometimes called him "Mantis" because that was his previous nickname. We knew "Mantis" from prior pickup basketball games. I don't know if anyone remembers this little bit of Joe Dudiana or not, but I nicknamed Tim "Joe Throat" because of his remarkable set of pipes (of course, "Ripper" is a far cooler appellation). Similarly, other guys got "Joe" monikers. The guy who sold U.S. Metal t-shirts became known as "Joe Shirt." One of the guys who used to sing with the band from time to time showed up in a tuxedo one day, hence: "Joe Tux." There were a few non-Joe nicknames as well: Brother George, Shake n Bake, the Shrunken Head, Pan Head, Gums and Roses, the Toe Tappers, the Soap Brothers, etc. They all have their stories.

There was even a remarkable 88-year old fan who treasured his time at the nightclubs.  Harry wore a leather jacket (gift from the band) and sported a button that said: "Not too old to rock and roll").  He was proud of the leather, and always wore it to the shows.  All the patrons loved him.  When he was tragically murdered, several band members and Joe Dudes attended his funeral.  His son was the pastor who presided over the funeral, and he was quite touched to see us there for the service.  It turns out that Harry was a deeply devoted husband who attended his ill wife for many years.  When she passed, he began going to the rock and roll clubs and spending time with young people.  It made him feel alive.  His enthusiasm was infectious.  He was an institution.  He is missed to this very day.

The band would sometimes invite us Dudes up on stage to open a song or two with them. It makes me laugh to think that today I sing the ancient western Mass twice a week in public as part of my liturgical duties, and even recorded a CD with a choir while at seminary. But before all that, I had just the tiniest taste of being on stage as a heavy metal singer.  And even that little taste was awesome.  The guys were really good to us.

For added craziness, on Halloween, the Dudes we would put on wigs, spandex, leather, and other heavy metal gear and we would "become" the band for a day. We referred to that activity as being in "full regalia" - and hence the name of our mythical band: Full Regalia.  We knew we were posers, but it didn't matter.  We had a lot of fun.

A typical Friday night out went like this for me: I would work at the Kraft General Foods office in Rye, New York (aka the Taj Mahal) writing the order-entry system for one of the largest corporations on the planet using a not-so-well-known software package (called SYNON) which enabled me to be a hotshot consultant commanding a huge hourly rate - at least for my employer - the consulting company. I was admittedly paid pretty well for a twenty-something, but the consulting company actually made out like bandits on the deal. But they did give me flights and a company car and a decent per diem.  And I still got to have my second life as an Akron metal-head.  So I shouldn't complain.

At four o'clock pm Friday, I would leave the Taj Mahal, drive my tiny Ford Escort eight hours across I-80, traversing the entire states of New Jersey and Pennsylvania.  I would roll into Akron about midnight, and join the Dudes and the band for a couple hours of ear-splitting rock and roll, flashing colored lights, occasional pyrotechnics, and the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Afterwards, at 2 a.m., the Joe Dudes would head to the local (and now-defunct) Bob's Big Boy for the breakfast buffet. We ended up getting to know all of the workers so well that we typically glommed our food for free. Our craziness carried on for about another hour or so. I would then slip exhausted over to my parents' place and catch a few hours sleep. I'd spend Saturday getting caught up with family and friends. I would attend Divine Service at Redeemer Lutheran Church Sunday morning, and then I would return to New York, leaving about 4:00 and arriving back at my digs at about midnight. This went on for a few years.

Here are some pics from about 1990.

And this is the kind of thing you can do when you're a young Dude. But over time, we kind of drifted apart. My visits home became less frequent. We all got married, had children, advanced in our jobs, bought homes, etc. Eventually, I went to seminary. The rest of the Dudes moved up in the world. Jimmy went to California. Ripper made the pinnacle of rock stardom. U.S. Metal (and the Joe Dudes) came to an end.

Until August 17, 2012, that is.

This is why I want to thank Tim Owens for remembering his old friends and not turning his back on his roots. Tim had arranged the reunion with U.S. Metal at Rockin' on the River. He paid for Jimmy to fly in from California. I arranged to fly in for a quick visit - only my second time back in The Falls in nearly a decade.

But the reunion almost didn't happen. Tim's schedule suddenly changed (he was on tour in Europe with the Dio Disciples, a Ronnie James Dio tribute band), and he could not make it back to Akron. I couldn't get out of my airplane ticket, so although I was disappointed, I decided to come up anyway and enjoy a visit with my folks. I would hopefully also see the Joe Dudes - whom I have now known for more than 30 years. Scott Jones (the U.S. Metal guitarist) and I swapped a couple facebook messages, and he wanted to join us as well.

But it got even better!

The U.S. Metal show was going to happen after all (though without Ripper) at Tim's restaurant: "Ripper Owens Tap House" as part of a show featuring the local band Fractured. My friends picked me up, and it was like old times. Rick wore his mint condition U.S. Metal shirt (25 years old?) and Ron was so metaled-up that my dad didn't recognize him. For my part, I donned my 1986 Aerosmith concert tee.  Three of the four Joe Dudes got to Ripper's in the late afternoon and enjoyed wings and beers. Tim joined us shortly.  It was all laughs after that.  The Tap House is a kind-of Heavy Metal version of T.G.I. Fridays or Hard Rock Cafe combined with a sports bar. There is, of course, metal memorabilia on the walls. There is also an intimate stage for live bands - and Ripper often has top-names roll into Akron for shows. Needless to say, there was a lot of reminiscence, teasing, and laughter. Aside from grayer (and shorter) hair, we all really look pretty much the same.  By the way, the food at Ripper's is excellent!  If I still lived in N.E. Ohio, I would be a regular.  It would be a great place to write sermons.  And the days of the stale beer and smoke smell are over.

Anyway, a couple hours later, Jimmy and Scott rolled in. They recognized us immediately. They moved us to their table, and we took pictures and recalled the old days. We saw people we had not seen in a quarter century. It was a grand reunion!

We are still posers, and Jimmy took advantage of my being there to get himself a halo

Fractured played a few songs, and then at about 11:00 pm, invited Jimmy and Scott to come up. Tim Zuver (who played drums and sang with U.S. Metal before Rick Shore's tenure) also mounted the stage. It really was like the old days - except for two things: 1) There were no thick clouds of tobacco (and other kinds of) smoke, and 2) people had their camera phones and were shooting stills and video.

The guys played a short but intense set, and it was nothing short of magical. It was like going back in time. We all became 25 again and moshed with the band. Hopefully, none of the middle-aged throng needed chiropractic adjustments the next day.

In the course of the evening, we met Jimmy's wife and Scott's wife and son (who is a newly-minted police officer). Chris had a family obligation and could not make this reunion - but he did contact me by text message and we were able to catch up a little bit. Scott (now a fit fifty years old, whose locks are today closely-cropped) told me that he played some Christian rock music with his church - and was a bit surprised by my disapproval. I'm more of a traditionalist when it comes to worship. As much as I love my rock and roll, I won't surrender my chorales and Gregorian chant.  He promised further discussion with me on the topic - and I hope it happens!

The Dudes and U.S. Metal have all gone on to lead productive lives. And yet we all still love our heavy metal. It was a great joy to see my old friends again.  We always got along well with one another, went through good times and bad together, and are once again in touch after a too-long hiatus.

Thanks again to Ripper Owens (a real class act) and to Jimmy and Scott for putting on a great show and re-uniting the Joe Dudes and our U.S. Metal friends. Joe Tim, Joe Ron, Joe Rick, and I are all looking forward to our next reunion.

So, what do you say, guys? A.D. 2022 at Ripper's?  By the way, here are all of my pictures from the Reunion.  As Harry reminded us all those years ago, we are "not too old to rock and roll!"

Not Bob's Big Boy, but close enough for rock 'n roll

Bonus: For hanging in there and reading this whole blog post, here is Ripper Owens covering Iron Maiden's "Flight of Icarus" (the singer of Iron Maiden was, and is, Bruce Dickinson).  "Icarus" was often covered by U.S. Metal.  Enjoy, and don't fly too close to the sun!

Moleskine for the 21st Century?

The Moleskine is a seemingly anachronistic product in this day and age of smartphones.  But the company is doing well and they are expanding into related markets other than the simple pocket notebook with which its name has become synonymous.  Moleskine claims descent from the little notebooks used throughout history by famous writers and artists - even the brand name was the creation of a writer (Bruce Chatwin) who relied on them before they disappeared briefly from the market - even though detractors accuse Moleskine of stretching the truth on this.

The above video shows the "correct" pronunciation of Moleskine - the point of which is that there is no correct pronunciation.

Since last year's trip to Russia, I carry one with me everywhere I go.  It stays in my back pocket, and I use it to take notes in meetings, write prayers, make to-do lists, jot down numbers, websites, ideas - anything and everything.  I then copy important notes to the Internet (I'm trying out Evernote now) and/or to other journals (such as my edited travel journal I kept in Russia).

The little 192-page notebook (in all its various formats and sizes) has become so popular that there is a sort-of Moleskine community of people who share artwork, ideas, and even hacks to make the Moleskine even more useful. I recently submitted my own hack-that-isn't-reall-a-hack: rather an idea as to how to keep a pen and Moleskine together in the back pocket, using the Fisher Space Pen.

I'm at the tail end of my current notebook - which I have been using since September last year.  It is actually a Moleskine knockoff called a Picadilly.  It's not quite as nice, but it did hold up pretty well.  I had previously blogged a link to a review comparing the two.

After I complete this notebook (about ten more blank pages left), I'm going back to Moleskine.  It's one thing to read reviews, it's something else to use the products oneself.  Just on personal examination, the Moleskine is simply more robust with a cover that feels more like leather than cardboard.  Besides, the Picadilly is no longer available at Border's for five bucks.  They can still be gotten online, but at just a smidge less than the Moley.  And considering that it may last for the better part of a year, the extra couple bucks in cost is worth it to have the better quality.

Even in this day and age of the iPad and iPhone, the Moleskine has a few advantages: You can use it any time on a plane, it doesn't have to be charged up, you can keep it tucked away in a pocket without worrying about sensitive electronics being damaged, it only costs about twelve bucks, it can be coordinated with digital data storage, and writing with pen on paper has some distinct advantages in terms of creativity.

One of God's most amazing creatures...

...jumping spiders

Waiting for Isaac - but not like Abraham and Sarah

Hurricane Supplies

Tropical Storm Isaac is on the way.

It is likely to become a hurricane.  There is a good chance that we will take a direct hit.  It is possible that it will hit as a category 2.  It's not likely that we're looking at Katrina-level devastation, but you just don't know until you know.  We were prepared for Grace, Leo, and our five indoor cats to head out to Georgia in case of an evacuation - while I planned to stay behind in case I'm needed here.  However, over the course of time, the consensus emerged that we should all hunker down and weather the storm together.  And so that's what we are going to do.

We have prepared our best, so we wait and we pray.  And we hope our outdoor feline friends survive.

We bought ten gallons of water, as well as a good number of cans of meat and vegetables.  We got the generator gassed up, tested, and ready to keep a little power on in the house in the likely event that we lose electricity.  We stocked up on cat-food, lunch meat, coffee, and wine.  And as a tribute to Miz Grace's forethought and devotion to the mental well-being of the family, she padded the pantry with a few bars of Green & Black's organic dark chocolate.

Did I marry the right one, or what?

Even though this hurricane is not a monster like Katrina, for New Orleanians, there is still a sick feeling in the pits of our stomachs.  The horror of seven years ago (to the day this coming Wednesday) is still fresh in our minds - as well as the familiar sights of boarded up store fronts, the 24-7 meteorological coverage, the somber warnings of elected officials, the ghostly empty streets, the ever-changing computer models and ever-shifting "cones of anxiety," and the seemingly endless debates about the fitness of our levee system.

Some people are evacuating, some are staying behind.  Offices and schools and stores and other businesses have been closed, even as other professionals, such as medical and police personnel, have been put on alert and must work until further notice.

At this time (Monday night, August 27), some of the news bodes well, some not so well.  Some of the models project us being on the "weak" side of the storm, some are calling us to get pounded.  The storm is still considered only a tropical storm, and yet it is slowing down in its movement across the Gulf - which threatens us with worse flooding when it arrives.  In spite of all the kings technology and all the king's men, no-one knows just where the storm will hit, nor how strong it will be.

  Round and round she goes...

We have no choice but to wait and see.

Our family decided not to dip into our food supply this evening, and we did the stereotypical New Orleans thing: we went out to eat.  None of the fast food places were still open.  But life experience teaches that when all the restaurants seem to be closed, go for Chinese.  Wasn't that one of the lessons of the movie A Christmas Story?

This is a Chinese food day in the City of Brotherly Love!

We learned that lesson nearly 20 years ago in Philadelphia.  One winter, after the entire state was deluged in snow, the governor declared a state of emergency and closed all the roads.  Our cars were buried.  The businesses were utterly deserted.  Aside from military and first-responder vehicles, the streets - even the always-busy U.S. Highway #1 - were eerily dead still.  Nevertheless, our local Chinese restaurant was open for business.  The proprietor, an elderly lady we called "Grandma," greeted us at the door in her usual cheerful and energetic way.  She really was like our grandmother - and we enjoyed every meal we ever had there.  She never closed the restaurant.  Not even on the governor's orders.

Fast-forward to today...

A hurricane-ready primal Asian meal

This evening, we headed to Chopsticks.  Sure enough, they were open.  Instead of NFL, NBA, or world soccer matches, the televisions were carrying coverage of the storm.  We always enjoy speaking a few (a very few!) words of Chinese with our waitresses - who are always friendly and fun.  I learned that the Mandarin word for "hurricane" is 颶風 - which to western ears, sounds a bit like "typhoon."

New Orleans is blessed to have a vibrant Asian community with a lot of Vietnamese immigrants.  Earlier in the day, we realized that we could not locate our emergency stove that runs on small cans of gas.  We have the cans, but not the stove.  At this stage of the game, we were highly unlikely to find anything of the sort at Pep Boys or WalMart.  So, I headed over to Hong Kong Market - and found loads of them in stock there.  A lot of Asian immigrants shop there (and work there), and nearly every customer today was buying the little gas stoves.  It struck all of us as funny.  Even though we could not speak the same language, we were all thinking the same thing.  I am always impressed with the management and the employees of the store - all of whom are Asian immigrants.

Some people complain about immigrants.  As for me, I am happy there are so many Asians here.  I especially find members of the local Vietnamese community to be industrious, innovative, friendly, gregarious, and though the immigrants often have trouble learning English, their children have no difficulties at all.  In fact, it is almost a stereotype to see young Vietnamese women at Starbucks or Barnes and Noble studying - even though we have also seen quite a few young men who are on the playboy/ne'er-do-well side, with expensive cars, spiffy clothes, not in the Starbucks or Barnes and Noble with their textbooks and flashcards.  Hopefully, they will do a little better for themselves than Prince Harry.  If nothing else, their wives (or sisters) will keep them in the kind of lifestyle they have become accustomed to.

Though local older Vietnamese immigrants are mostly Buddhist, the younger Vietnamese population is  overwhelmingly Christian.  On one occasion at the Vietnamese-owned Cherryberry, we saw two teenage girls studying the Bible - both obviously immigrants - while one was reading explaining, and translating to the other, in great detail, a narrative from the Old Testament.

I'm sure I will be offending someone by singing the praises of the local Asian community - but I'm not going to apologize for saying good things about the folks I deal with on a day to day basis.  At the expense of being called a "lib-rul," I do believe they add to the gumbo-bowl of our unique cultural melange here in Southern Louisiana.

When we left the restaurant, the sun was setting, and yet there was a huge rainbow spanning the darkening sky.  I was reminded of two things: 1) a song by Ronnie James Dio, and 2) the promise of God not to destroy the world again with a flood.

Kyrie eleison!

So, may God have mercy on us.  If we can get through yet another hurricane on yet another August 29, perhaps this will be one more step for us on the road to recovery and rebirth.  We pray that the levees hold, that there be no loss of life, no significant property damage, and that we emerge stronger, more compassionate, and even more prepared as a community and people.

And barring that, we have wine and chocolate.  So I think it will be okay.

Church Dedicated in Former Soviet Republic

With the help of Lutherans around the world - including faithful confessional Lutherans from the LCMS Iowa East District - the former Soviet republic of Lithuania has a new Lutheran church building in the city of Palanga!

Here is a beautiful and richly illustrated article by Rev. Dr. Albert Collver, the director of church relations for the synod.

Here is an additional link to his photo album of the dedication.

Primal Update - Update

Left: May 17, 2012 - Right: July 5, 2012

Here is an update to my earlier update on my primal experiment.

Same pants, less fat.  I still have been very lazy about starting to exercise.  I am beginning (beginning!) to do some push-ups and I have been trying to do more walking.  Mrs. H. and I went on vacation for two weeks, and we both lost weight!  I'm down to about 145 - which is in the neighborhood of 30 pounds lost since I got rid of the starchy carbs about three months ago.  I just bought some 28-inch shorts (I believe this is the size of pants I wore in high school).  The 32-inch pants shown above were (not that long ago) pretty tight.  In fact, I actually had my gut hanging over - known as "Dunlop's Disease" - where one's gut "done lops" over one's trousers.

One thing that I am very glad that I did (actually Grace and I did this together and I recommend it to anyone wanting to "go primal") was to read Mark Sisson's book The Primal Blueprint.  The book is a kind-of owner's manual for the body - not for the whole body, but rather for the metabolism system.  He explains concisely the way insulin works and why the SAD (Standard American Diet) leads directly to what we are seeing these days: obesity, diabetes, increased allergies, and a frustrated backlash that goes too far the other way: people burning out due to "extreme cardio" regimens.  And, he points out a better way by means of his "blueprint."

Sisson's argument - though based on a mythological view of the origins of man - is that the SAD is a train-wreck right down to the cellular level, that our modern western diet - based heavily on grains and starchy carbs - runs contrary to our genetic programming.  He argues (correctly, I believe) that federal dietary guidelines are based more on the exigencies of lobbyists and corporate interests than sound science and principles of good health.

His "Primal Blueprint" is a way of once more aligning our lifestyle (diet, exercise, sleep patterns, etc.) with the way we were designed instead of the demands we put on ourselves in our frenetic modern life heavily influenced by Big Pharma and Big Media.  He compares two fictional families: one ancient and one modern, and shows why the current paradigm of eating a high-carb, low-fat diet, and being concerned with things like cholesterol, leads us to the lifestyle of being unhealthy and overweight and trying to recover our health with over-exercise and prescription drugs - which actually make the problem worse.

I have found his maxim that 80% of the key to health involves food rather than exercise, to be born out by experience.  And this is not a "diet."  If I really want a hot fudge sundae or a piece of pizza, I will have one.  But what I have found is, knowing the "cost" in terms of insulin production and fat storage (as opposed to metabolism), and knowing how good it feels to be in better shape - I simply find myself wanting such things less and less.  There are so many healthy and tasty alternatives (meat, oils and fats, nuts, fruits, seeds, and vegetables), why should anyone eat "junk"?  Living primally is not a list of rules and regulations, but rather a way of getting to know how your body metabolizes foods and how eating and exercise affect you - and making decisions based on this realistic paradigm.

Personally, I really love having more energy, carrying about 30 pounds less of strain on my joints, and knowing that I am rebuilding healthier tissue from the cell level up.  I get a lot more excited about that than eating a piece of cake or having a bowl of pasta or a plate of fries - though if I want to, I have the liberty to do so.  It is not the job of government to tell me how to eat, nor can government be trusted to protect my interests.  I think this is partially why the primal lifestyle is popular among more libertarian-minded people: it is taking personal responsibility for our health by making better choices and relying on ourselves instead of Big Government and Big Business.  Ultimately, what you eat and how you move your body is up to you.

When you "go primal" you see results fast, and you don't have to count calories.  The Primal Blueprint does provide links to a couple of websites that help calculate grams of carbohydrates, fats, and proteins based on what you are eating, and this can really help to identify areas that need to change in one's food intake on an average day.  But once the overall diet has been analyzed, there is really no reason to keep journals and look things up online.

Also, the book is practical and is a quick (and entertaining yet informative) read.  As for me, I can't argue with the results!  If you are thinking of trying this, there is a 21-day experiment that you can take for a spin, and then decide how to live the rest of your life based on your how body reacts - not on what laws and rules and guidelines lobbyists have convinced Wa$hington to pass, telling us what we should and should not be doing.

The choice is yours!

Update - Update (update):  I'm back in 28-inch pants!

A million new pictures added...

...well, that is an exaggeration - but it seems like a small one.

Anyway, for friends and family of Fr. H., here are a few albums recently added:

• Beane family fun, Feb & Mar 2012
• Salem fish fry, Mar 2012
• Firefighter Ceremony, Mar 10, 2012
• Bayou Segnette, Mar 24, 2012
• Easter at Salem, 2012
• Easter at Aline's, 2012
• Beane family, April 2012
• Chicago trip, Apr - May 2012
• Kansas trip, May 2012
• Beane family, May 2012
• Ice cream trireme!  May 8, 2012
• Trip to Pensacola, May 11-12, 2012
• John Ryan funeral, May 13, 2012
• Gone primal!
• Salem Church Picnic, May 19, 2012
• Blueberry picking, May 25, 2012
• NOLA Greek fest, 2012
• Beane family, May - June 2012
• SCA demonstration, June 2, 2012
• Westbank Homeschool Organization promotion ceremony, 2012
• Beane family vacation, June 2012
• Mel Ott statue, July 2012

And, as a special bonus, some classic pictures from circa 1990, scanned in:

• U.S. Metal

Whew!  I'm now caught up for the time being.

Breathtaking pictures of Novosibirsk, Siberia

Check out these remarkable wide views of the landscape of Siberia's capital and Russia's third-largest city and one of its scientific and engineering centers of higher learning.  Novosibirsk is also the headquarters of Confessional Lutheranism in Russia, the home to both the cathedral church (St. Andrew) and the seminary (Lutheran Theological Seminary) of the Siberian Evangelical Lutheran Church.

Miter Tip: Bishop Vsevolod Lytkin.

Thank you to the Rev. John Dreyer

We had an outstanding visit from our dear friend the Rev. John Dreyer, who serves as a recruiter (real title: Admissions Counselor) for Concordia Theological Seminary - Fort Wayne.  We had a blast!  I mean, he was working like a dog and not having any fun at all (this was a working trip, after all).  I don't want John to get in trouble with Rast.  I mean, President Rast.

Anyway, thanks to Pastor Dreyer for preaching at our Wednesday evening Mass, faithfully proclaiming God's Word and sharing in the most holy body and blood of our Lord - as well as making connections with men in the area interested in serving in the holy ministry.

Grace and I go back about a decade with John, and below is a picture of us together at my graduation from CTSFW in 2004.  It was obviously a more flattering camera angle seven and a half years ago as the gray hairs were sparse, if not rare!

Rev. John Dreyer and Vicar Larry Beane, 2004

Must be the light in the church...

Rev. John Dreyer and Rev. Larry Beane, 2012

Here is a link to our pictures after yesterday's service and during today's visit to the French Quarter - including the Napoleon House, Jackson Square, the St. Louis Cathedral, Arcadian Books, the Cafe du Monde, and a walk along the river.

What a great joy to catch up with a brother pastor and friend!

Hooray for Gretnawood!

"Father Hollywood" as a name for this blog began as a joke (I was working at Hollywood Video during my first call).  But it seems like life imitates humor.

New Orleans is sometimes known as "Hollywood South" since Louisiana offers tax breaks for movie-making, and so a lot of films get made here.  And here is a pretty current list of projects.  For some reason, Gretna - and more specifically, my neighborhood - always seems to be involved in filming, whether for commercials or movies.

The Paperboy was filmed at a local house just off 5th Street.  It has not yet been released.  Deja Vu was filmed in 2006 and features a good bit of New Orleans, as the story takes place on our side of the river at the Algiers Ferry Station.  Love Song for Bobby Long (2004) was filmed at a local Gretna house just off the levee bike trail.  We're also still waiting for Killer Joe to be released, some of which was filmed at our local restaurant, Common Grounds - including some of our waitress friends playing waitresses in the movie.  This still from the movie was taken inside the restaurant, and this one looks across the neutral ground to the po-boy shop ("The Iron Grate Grill" on Huey P. Long Ave. formerly "Johnny's") across the way.

Right now, filming is happening for a Will Ferrell movie called Dog Fight (aka Southern Rivals) - a comedy based on Southern politicians during an election cycle.  The movie is apparently set in South Carolina, though downtown Gretna has been made over into the fictional town of Hammond, North Carolina.

A vacant lot has been mocked up with building facades, while fake building fronts were placed on real buildings across the street.  Gretna City Hall had a new facade put on it, and even the glass door had gold lettering with the new "town" embossed on it.  We took a couple strolls around the set and took some pictures.  There was a good attention to detail.  Some of the extras who were driving around explained that they received North Carolina license plates and even stickers to cover up their Louisiana inspections on the windshields!

In the casting call for extras, it seems that the movie will be rather politically incorrect.  It looks like fun!  Filming should be going on for another week or so.  I have no doubt that more will be on the way.

Chaplain Hollywood

I was installed as chaplain of the David Crockett Steam Fire Company No. 1 on January 7, 2012.

Here are my pictures from the installation.

David Crockett is the oldest continuously operating volunteer fire company in the United States.  As Mayor Harris pointed out, Crockett has not merely met monthly since its founding in 1841, the company has provided uninterrupted 24-7 fire protection on a volunteer basis to the City of Gretna since that time - absolutely without interruption!

This is extraordinary, especially considering the rough ride Gretna has been through in the last 171 years: the War Between the States, federal occupation, two world wars (keep in mind Gretna's German heritage), the Great Depression, and numerous hurricanes.  Through all of these catastrophes and upheavals, David Crockett has not even shut down for one second.

Crockett also has not just a sterling record but a well-earned reputation for excellence and diligence.

The annual installation was a joyful celebration that had many high points, such as the swearing in of officers, the mayor's speech, the address by the state fire marshal, and the acknowledgment of fifty years of perfect attendance by Anthony Labruzza.  The meal was excellent, and fitting to such an auspicious occasion.  I also got to meet the Rev. Frank Carabello, the retired pastor of our good neighbor St. Joseph Roman Catholic Church, having served there for thirty years.

I am very grateful to fire service veterans treasurer Lynn Coyne (who invited me) and president Gordon Carbo (who appointed me).  I'm also grateful to LCMS chaplain the Rev. Dean Kavouras of Cleveland, Ohio, who serves as police, fire, and FBI chaplain, for his advice to me and also for his wonderful book (published by the Lutheran Heritage Foundation) chronicling his chaplaincy work in the immediate aftermath of Sept. 11, 2001: Nine One One The Aftermath: The Word Works.

I'm looking forward to supporting the men who protect Gretna from fire and other disasters.

My Siberian Adventure - Day 23, July 19, 2011

Begin: Chelyabinsk
Drive to: Yekaterinburg
Drive to: Polevskoya
Drive to: Yekaterinburg

I woke up a little on the late side and took a shower.  I was beginning to think that there was no hot water - but my patience was rewarded.

Dan, Alexy, and I enjoy a very nice buffet breakfast in the Green Restaurant downstairs - which is included.  This breakfast is like Russian supper - with sausage, chicken, and pasta - along with more typical breakfast foods like boiled eggs.  There are also the traditional drinks - water and fruit juices.  One berry drink is translated as "hip drink."  Father Alexey doesn't know why.  The music is a little odd, quite loud, a sort-of disco or fitness club version of Indian or Middle Eastern music.  I actually dig it.  We check out of the hotel and meet Father Sergey.  I'm armed with bottled water that Alexey purchased for me.  Russians drink a lot of bottled water.  This one is sparkling ("living.").

We drive to a drab factory building where Dan's wife's company has a branch office.  He hopes to get inside for a picture, but security won't let us in.  We wait in a cramped reception area.  A manager with whom Father Daniel has corresponded comes down and apologetically gives Dan some brochures to take home.

We hit the road which is terribly bumpy, posing for pictures at the sign indicating that we have just left Chelyabinsk.  The terrain between Chelyabinsk and Yekaterinburg is wide open with bright yellow fields.  There are birch forests in the distance.

We arrive at the church flat, drop off our things, and eat lunch at the food court - at Blinoff, a pancake (blini) place.  It's outstanding!  I had a pancake with "old Russian meat" - which is a spiced beef - as well as a cherry pancake with a sweet condensed milk sauce.  I also had a soulanka, a roll, and a coffee (which was not instant!).  The pancakes are actually crepes.  They are made on the spot on two large griddles.

After lunch, we head off the to the Orthodox diocesan store for my last opportunity to buy icons for souvenirs.

Father Sergey drives us to the archbishop's residence - which is opulent.  There is an army of Mercedes and Lexus cars.  We see bearded and cassocked clergy surrounded by secret-service-type bodyguards with sunglasses and earpieces.  It was rather surreal - quite a contrast to our own bishop with his Toyota.  A lot of people have apparently been turned off to Christianity in Russia because of the financial dealings of some of the Orthodox churches.

After parking, we walk into the store and start shopping for icons.  Of all of our icon-buying trips, I have been unsuccessful in finding an icon of St. Raphael the archangel to bring back to Grace.  Even now I can't find one - until I visited the very last room and looked at the very last icon!  I see a small icon of an angel.  The Cyrillic letters are hard to read, but I sound it out and it comes out like "Raphael" to me.  I point to the icon to buy it, and the lady says: "Raphael."  Very cool!

Father Daniel and I pick up some icons and Father Alexey buys a stack of books.

Afterwards, we head back to the church flat for a quick change of clothes.  We all get into our clericals as we are headed to the local ELKRAS congregation for a visit.  This is Father Dennis's congregation, the pastor I offended regarding women's "ordination."  His predecessor was a woman who was there for three years.

Father Sergey drives.  He has been playing an interesting and eclectic mix of very good pop music in the car: soundtracks from House, MD, an album called Dead Man's Bones, a collection of Christmas tunes by Annie Lenox, some blues, and Dire Straits' Brothers in Arms album.  Father Sergey is a Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler fan.  Dan asks about Dire Straits and I fill him in on the Brothers in Arms album.  Sergey listens in with amusement.

The ELKRAS parish is located in Polevskoya.  The congregation meets in a rented room in an office complex.  We are greeted warmly by the pastor, who is young and speaks some English and German in addition to Russian.  The congregation is nearly all older women.  There are two younger women and one young man and one old man in the congregation.

Fathers Sergey, Daniel, Alexey, and I sit in the front row behind the small keyboard.  Father Alexey translates as Father Dennis explains that we will sing a couple hymns, have a prayer, and then we (the guests) will speak.

The service book has many short hymns.  They are essentially "praise songs" of a Taize character.  We sing one such song, singing the Russian part three times, a Latin translation twice, and then repeating the Russian again.  The next song we only sing n Russian.  Dennis led the singing and played the electronic organ.

There is a small but dignified altar set up for communion with a Bible situated in the middle.  There is also a small, dignified pulpit.  Both altar and pulpit are adorned by a pair of flickering candles.

There is a small icon of Christ on the wall, under which are three western depictions of our Lord.  There is a little table underneath with a candle, an open Bible, and a crucifix.  On the Bible is an Orthodox rosary.

After a short prayer, Father Dennis introduces us.  I spoke about our congregation back home, about New Orleans, and about my family.  Father Daniel does the same regarding his family and parish.  I related the story of how Grace had once told me that she would live anywhere but New Orleans which everyone found amusing.  I also told them how Grace was the daughter of a nun and the wife of a priest who was given a most appropriate name for a Lutheran pastor's wife.

Afterwards, a lady asked about Hurricane Katrina.  I took her e-mail and will send her links to pictures.

Dan also spoke about the catechism and the sacraments.  I spoke about the heroic nature of Russian Lutheranism and implored them not to take their freedom for granted as, unfortunately, many Americans do.  Sergey and Alexey also give brief addresses.

The congregation was very hospitable and treated us to tea and dessert pastries afterward.  They gave us a box of them to take with us.  I offered to take some home to my family, but they warned against it - as they were home-made with sour cream.  So I took a picture instead.

We drove back to the church flat in Yekaterinburg and reflected on what a tragedy women's "ordination" is.  These are nice people who have been led astray - including women in their eighties who had never seen such things in he churches of their youth.

We arrive at the flat and say our goodbyes to Father Alexey.  He is flying back to Novosibirsk, having found a flight for the same price as the train would cost.  Father Sergey will be by at 5:20 am tomorrow morning to bring us to the airport.

Dan and I change clothes.  I check e-mail and have an IM session with Grace.  I send my dad a SnapYap message.  Dan and I head back for one final visit to the beer tent.  First, we decide to walk around the mall.  Unfortunately, it is in the process of closing.  But we take a short walk and snap a few pictures.

We drop into the beer garden to find our familiar waiter working.  He knows just what beers to bring us.  I decide to eat, and so does Dan.  I order mante (steamed dumplings) and a plav (rice and meat).  The portions are pretty good-sized, and the price is reasonable.  Dan also orders a plav, and along with the beers and a generous tip, the total is 600 rubles - about $20.

Our waiter takes our picture.  We explain that we are flying back to America tomorrow.  Actually, Dan explains in Russian accompanied by hand gestures.

We head back to the flat to pack.  I decide to shower then rather than waiting until 4:30 am.  I am excited to be going home, as I am missing my wife and son terribly!  It is hard to fall asleep as my mind races.

Here is a link to all of my pictures from Day Twenty-Three.

  

Bonne Année and Happy 20!

Today is the 20th anniversary of our first date at Parliament Hill in Ottawa!  Quite a bit has changed in the last two decades, including the advent of our son (who turns seven in a fortnight)!

Below is a pic taken five years ago at Parliament Hill.  Happy New Year, everyone!  Bonne Année and Happy Twenty Years, Miss Grace!  Here's to Auld Lang Syne, Veuve Clicquot, and the next 20 years of fighting the Sassenach!

New pics uploaded

Intéressant? Peut-être, ou peut-être pas.

Of course, this is likely only of interest to family and friends.  As one of my Christmas presents was 2 GB of memory for my computer, uploading pictures isn't as big a chore as it once was.  So here is a link to all of my Flickr sets (a set is like an album).  If you click on  set, you can hit the "slideshow" option to see all the pictures in that set.

Have fun, y'all!

Earthquake in Siberia

St. Luke's, Abakan

Almost as it was happening, I got an e-mail from Bishop Vsevolod Lytkin of the Siberian Evangelical Lutheran Church that a Magnitude 6.6 earthquake hit Siberia near the city of Abakan.  The quake was felt as far away as Novosibirsk where Bp. Vsevolod lives (the two cities are about 350 miles apart).

Fr. Pavel Zayakin and his family live in Abakan where he serves St. Luke's Lutheran Church.  Fr. Dmetri Dotsenko and his family live in Abakan as well (he serves St. James Lutheran Church in Novokuznetsk).

Father Pavel, near Abakan

Father Dmetri and Family, near Abakan

Thanks be to God so far, it seems that there was no major damage nor any casualties.  Let us keep our brothers and sisters in our prayers in hope that the seismic activity has settled down.

You can see Abakan in real time here.