Saturday, April 14, 2007

I'm full of pride and lazy...

I must be Henry VIII without the lust!

Greed:Very Low
Envy:Very Low
Lust:Very Low

Discover Your Sins - Click Here

Thanks to Angela Messenger for the test...

H.R. dos and don'ts...

Do: Treat employees with respect.

Don't: Screw around with people's lives.

Do: Acquire people skills.

Don't: Think you are better than pee-ons.

Do: Follow the same rules the Company expects for all employees.

Don't: Be underhanded.

(Another public service announcement for the professionally impaired.)

Words of Wisdom - 1st in a series!

"Never take yourself or your business too seriously - otherwise you'll never really be happy with anything or anyone." Professor Terry

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

All the legalities...



Thoughts on a snowy April day...


Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.

Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen,
they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will... - Don McLean

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

No Pun Intended

In case the signs on the doors are difficult to read, the upper chamber reads: "Management" while the lower chamber reads: "Employees" - vulgar, yet very clever, don't you agree?

Festa di San Terenzio

April 10 is the feast of St. Terence, a Roman Martyr. When I was little I had no idea there was a St. Terence, neither did my mother or the priest who baptized me.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

An Outsider's Easter

Growing up, my family never celebrated Easter. We had Easter baskets as kids, and I went to Mass, but we had no family get togethers, big dinners, or anything else. Easter was pretty much just another Sunday at our house.
When I was old enough, I went to the Easter vigil alone, and on Easter morning, I attended Mass again, often at the Franciscan church at noon, followed by Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. That was about it.
As an adult, I appreciate the quiet of Easter Sunday, and the 'permission' to be excused from social functions. Unlike Christmas, few seem to object to my 'not doing anything for Easter'.
After the austerities of Lent - voluntary or involuntary, and the emotional and spiritual intensity of Holy Week, I have always had difficulty in waking up Easter morning full of joy. Though Christ rose from the tomb transformed, I awaken the same person I had been yesterday. An Easter basket or new clothes never quite did it for me. Hymns, altars covered in lace, with colorful flowers have little effect as well.
I have this naive notion that everything is supposed to be better on Easter - that I really will experience that joy so many express in their "Alleluias" and "Happy Easters" and the proclamation, "He is risen!" I know that. He was risen last week as well. Yet it is somehow easier to identify with him in suffering and sorrow, than it is to suddenly wake up Easter morning full of exultation.
Nothing external or material supplies this joy for me, only the liturgy - with nothing to do with the decorations or hymns - the liturgy itself - not those glad-assed, happy-hands novelty liturgies - but the formal, solemn Roman rite. Only then am I able to grasp the meaning of Easter, and touch, or rather be touched by the joy of the Resurrection.
Nevertheless, I'm still the same old, same old guy I was last week. Life hasn't gotten better, it hasn't changed, and I'm still stuck in it. But I have this hope...