Labor Day Letdown

This has been the strangest Labor Day weekend ever. I did a lot of reading by the fire, which is great, but not really what you want to be doing on the last real weekend of summer. Normally, Labor Day weekend in Laguna is a three-day beach-a-palooza, with just about every man, woman and child in town out on a surfboard somewhere between Brooks Street and Thalia, in almost 70-degree water. But the weather just isn't cooperating and David has declared it "the summer that never was." Oh well...I guess there's always next year.

Near-empty beaches
Disoriented locals
Labor Day letdown

Green Day, Starry Night


I don't make it to many live music shows these days, being a mom pushing 40 who likes her beauty sleep and all. But when my super-cool, well-connected friends Dan and Jenna Adler practically hand me prime tickets and say, "Do you want to go?", I go! So last night I took the boys to the Green Day concert in Chula Vista (south of San Diego but not quite to Mexico). The venue was an outdoor amphitheater and it was a clear, beautiful summer night. And what a show. I know this phrase gets overused, but I don't know how else to say it: I was blown away.

I have always liked Green Day's music and their their gritty, Bay Area-roots story. And, though I might not share all the views expressed in their songs, I love that Billie Joe Armstrong consistently takes on and grapples with real life--politics, religion, culture, relationships--in an intelligent, often poetic way. But I had never seen Green Day perform live--and this is where the blown away part comes in. Their musicianship and sheer passion made for an electrifying show. I know that live concerts are supposed to be that way, but they aren't always, so I don't take it for granted.

A punk band may not take this as a compliment (they'd probably rather I said that they were obnoxious and rude), but Green Day were total professionals, without sacrificing any of the raw energy and rebelliousness that defines punk. Trust me, there were plenty of f-bombs, loud explosions, and awesome pyrotechnics--they haven't lost their edge. But there was none of the jaded, I don't know what city I'm in or what day it is attitude that you sometimes get from touring musicians who have made it big. There was no posing or trying to look cool--they worked. They sweated (there was real fire on that stage!) They brought so much heart and authenticity to the show that I felt honored, and respected, in being there. Again, probably not what a rock band wants to hear from a soccer mom, but there you have it.


two generations
punk, passion, pyrotechnics
Green Day, starry night


Happy Birthday, Mother Superior

My mother, Delianne Greydanus Koops, is 63 today, if I have done the math correctly. So in her honor, I decided to make a list of some of her unofficial "rules." Some of you will argue that this is not really a poem, and maybe you're right. But I was thinking about my mom, and the atmosphere of love and warmth and celebration that she brought to our home, and some of those funny "mom" things I remember her saying, and this just felt right. I noticed that when I started tapping my memories and writing things down, so many of them have to do with food and sitting around the table together. One of my mother's greatest talents is the gift of hospitality. I still want to be like her when I grow up. Happy birthday, Mom!

Rules I learned from my mother:

1. Always invite the stranger in--there's always enough room at the table for a few more teenagers, MIT graduate students, Sudanese refugees, difficult (or easygoing) relatives, lonely co-workers, or elderly neighbors. Always.

2. No fake food! Insist on real butter, good coffee, fresh bread.

3. Leftover blackberry pie is a perfectly good breakfast food.

4. Stand up straight; you'll look better and feel better too.

5. If you're not hungry enough to eat an apple or some carrot sticks, you're probably not hungry.

6. Hang up your clothes! (I'm still working on this one)

7. To breastfeeding mothers: Quit worrying about everything. Sit down, put your feet up, and have a beer. It's good for you and good for the baby.

8. Celebrate life's milestones, big and small. Not just birthdays and anniversaries, but Fridays, report card days (even if the report cards aren't perfect), rainy days, etc.

9. A brisk walk cures (almost) all.

10. Even a simple meal, when served and eaten with love, can be a feast.

Places of Honor

All of today's lectionary readings deal in some way with arrogance and humility, and the human tendency to take the best place at the table, so to speak. This is one of those things that I know in my heart but really need to be reminded of.... sometimes I get in "me-me-me" mode and don't even realize that I'm "taking the best place." Argh!


It's all upside-down.
When we take the best place at
the table, we may
be asked to move to the end.
The humble are exalted:
"Friend, move up higher."

St. Augustine


From the "Saint of the Day" email I received today, a quote from St. Augustine's Confessions:


"Too late have I loved you, O Beauty of ancient days, yet ever new! Too late I loved you! And behold, you were within, and I abroad, and there I searched for you; I was deformed, plunging amid those fair forms, which you had made. You were with me, but I was not with you. Things held me far from you—things which, if they were not in you, were not at all. You called, and shouted, and burst my deafness. You flashed and shone, and scattered my blindness. You breathed odors and I drew in breath—and I pant for you. I tasted, and I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I burned for your peace."



Libertine, bishop.

Sinner, saint. Emblem of the

human condition.