Caught this one at the end of a season two episode of the new Doctor Who series. . .

“What I wanted to say is . . . you know, when you’re a kid, they tell you it’s all grow up, get a job, get married, get a house, have a kid, and that’s it. But the truth is, the world is so much stranger than that. It’s so much darker and so much madder. And so much better.”

We've had this "secret project" going on at school this week that I've gotten to work on a little bit at a time. This morning I wrapped up my part in it by finding myself revisiting the first "important book" that I read here in Hawaii: Dave Eggers' You Shall Know Our Velocity!. And I ran across this quote that I love and would like to share:

I believe in fact, and in the plain truth told wholly-- that the truth retold can be a net thrown around life at a certain time and place, encompassing all within, and that people can go out there, live as actors, work within their staging ground, do so with a soft heart; I want others to go out in the world with an idea, with intentions and means, and come back with a story about how their actions affected the world and how they themselves were shaped by the results. . . there's nothing to be gained from passive observance, the simple documenting of conditions, because, at its core, it sets a bad example. Every time something is observed and not fixed, or when one has a chance to give in some way and does not, there is a lie being told, the same lie we all know by heart but which needn't be reiterated. Friends, I urge you to find us hopeful. I urge you to find that we tried something, knowing nothing of the results. . . there is a chance that everything we did was incorrect, but stasis is itself criminal for those with the means to move, and the means to weave communion between people.

That, Charlie Brown, is a bit of what it's all about.

While flipping through this week's TIME magazine, I ran across an obituary that surprised me and made me sad. Turns out Lloyd Alexander, writer of my third favorite fantasy series, passed away on May 17. Not sure how I missed it, but it makes me sad nonetheless.

I saw The Black Cauldron movie sometime while growing up: probably back in elementary school when they showed Disney movies in the "little theater." I'm not sure how I came across the series of books that the movie was based on. It happened in Fort Worth, of this I am sure. I remember buying a good number of the five book Prydain series at Half-Price Books. The first three books were pretty good. The fourth book, Taran Wanderer totally blew me away: the story of an assistant pig-keeper and his many friends as they fight evil and learn about the world around them. In that fourth book, Taran learns an awful lot about himself in an amazing way. The last book, The High King crescendoed on a Return of the King level. In fact, in my humble opinion, the Prydain series is the perfect link between The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings. The humor is there. The innocence is there. And the sadness of a world passing is there as well.

I do not want to do Lloyd any disservice by saying that his work is in any way inferior to Tolkien or Lewis. His recasting of Welsh myth is equally brilliant and amazingly accessible to the young reader (and to to not-so-young adult reader like me. I'm sad to see him gone. And I'm sad it took me more than a week to find out.

Today was a good day. I slept in 20 minutes later than usual. I had some quality time at school without having to worry about classes or exams. I had an early lunch. I had a second, later lunch. I had some quality hang- out time. I swam my laps. I caught an episode of Doctor Who season two. And now I'm about to hit the sack. I do believe I shall sleep well.

Back in the days of Texas, Memorial Day always launched the summer season with what came to be known as "First Blast." That tradition eventually petered out (people move, pools are hard to come by), but it was sort-of revived today.

After a trip to the grocery story and a nice morning swim, a couple of co-workers and some of their friends came over for a cookout and time in the pool. It was an interesting group: four people I did not know. Two were nurses. One was a language person. The other is pursuing the philosophy of religion. Then I found out that one was from Arkansas and that her husband was a Belmont grad (same as my Mom and Dad). So it was an interesting, how in the world did you end up here kind of afternoon.

So now it's the end of the day and I'm giving On the Lot a second chance. The "preview" episode wasn't that exciting for me. Tonight, though, they are showing one-minute films from the 18 finalists. . . and they are pretty interesting. I'm amazed at the different styles. I'm also amazed at how they got Carrie Fischer and Garry Marshall to do the show. The fact that they bring in simple concepts like "have a beginning, middle, and end" is refreshing.

I've put The Weight of Glory aside for another Lewis collection: On Stories. In the essays included in the book, Lewis talks lot about books and stories and what thinks makes them "work." It's funny. In one essay, he talks about the differences between story-telling with words and story-telling with images: "There is death in the camera." Can't wait to share that one with the school's film teacher.

I have a friend who once said that we live our life in fragments.

If that's the case, today would be a nice cut-off point for the last four years.

I had the chance to speak at our senior baccalaureate today. I've known about it for a while and have been thinking about what to say for a good while. I finally felt like reflecting on Jesus' last discourse with his disciples was the way to go. At about 2:45 this afternoon I started to panic, thinking that the topic was too serious for the time. Still, God, I believe, blessed everything. The kids were active and responsive. I feel like I got the point across. And I got to pray with my kids one last time as a group. Afterwards I was given some gift-leis by some students. Then some seniors "gifted" me with the leis they were given just before the ceremony. It was just like graduating (seriously). After that I had dinner with a friend and then went to a final musical concert at school that was really enjoyable. A good day. And a good time to put a period at the end of the sentence.

I'm not sure what tomorrow holds. I'm not sure what will happen next week or next month or next year. But the gift of the last four years and the culmination of things today was an amazingly good thing. God blesses me in spite of myself. For that I am grateful.

Now to get some quality sleep. . .

Tomorrow is the wrap-up of the school year for me. Got my grades in around 9 o'clock Friday morning. Said goodbye to my homeroom that same morning. For me, student stuff for this year is pretty much over. Heck, next year has actually already started for me. Yesterday I met with the new class council AND met with a new co-advisor for another group that I'm a part of. Tonight I was supposed to have a "working dinner" with some students that, luckily, did not happen. Tomorrow is church then baccalaureate then a final student concert that I need to go to.

The sermon hasn't quite come together yet, which is a little scary. I've already been through two drafts, and I'm just not finding the right balance. Like I said, tomorrow is the wrap-up, and I want to say the right things well. It's a matter of making it personable, really. So I hope to sleep on it and see where the morning finds me.

I finished rereading Lewis's The Great Divorce a couple of days ago and finally sat down to pick out some of my favorite lines. Funny, I had totally forgotten what they were from the last time I'd read the book. My favorite is:

"The saying is almost too hard for us." (Narrator)
"Ah, but it's cruel not to say it. They that know have grown afraid to speak. That is why sorrows that used to purify now only fester."

So now it's The Weight of Glory. I suppose I'm waiting until I don't have to go to school at all to get back to Michael Chabon. . .