tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51773799007753752732024-03-08T13:18:36.567-08:00Barbara CampBarbara Camphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00857600050987391717noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177379900775375273.post-43583012149117073142012-03-13T15:25:00.002-07:002012-03-13T15:33:01.472-07:00<style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Gothic"; panose-1:2 11 5 2 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Century Gothic"; mso-fareast-font-family:Times; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-no-proof:yes;} h1 {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-link:"Heading 1 Char"; mso-style-next:Normal; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; page-break-after:avoid; mso-outline-level:1; font-size:11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Century Gothic"; mso-font-kerning:0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight:normal; mso-no-proof:yes;} h2 {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-link:"Heading 2 Char"; mso-style-next:Normal; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; page-break-after:avoid; mso-outline-level:2; font-size:11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Century Gothic"; font-weight:normal; font-style:italic; mso-bidi-font-style:normal; mso-no-proof:yes;} span.Heading1Char {mso-style-name:"Heading 1 Char"; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-locked:yes; mso-style-link:"Heading 1"; mso-ansi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Century Gothic"; mso-ascii-font-family:"Century Gothic"; mso-hansi-font-family:"Century Gothic"; font-weight:bold; mso-bidi-font-weight:normal; mso-no-proof:yes;} span.Heading2Char {mso-style-name:"Heading 2 Char"; mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-locked:yes; mso-style-link:"Heading 2"; mso-ansi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Century Gothic"; mso-ascii-font-family:"Century Gothic"; mso-hansi-font-family:"Century Gothic"; font-style:italic; mso-bidi-font-style:normal; mso-no-proof:yes;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-size:10.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Times; mso-ascii-font-family:Times; mso-fareast-font-family:Times; mso-hansi-font-family:Times;} @page WordSection1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} --> </style> <h1 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 40pt; font-weight: normal;">the last supper </span></h1><p><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you: do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood which is poured out for you.” Luke 22: 19-20</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <h2 style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Top Chef</span>, noun,<span style="font-style:normal"> An American reality show competition, airing on the cable TV<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>network Bravo, in which chef contestants from around the<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>U. S. cohabitate in a house for approximately 21 days while in competition against each other in a series of culinary challenges. </span></h2> <h2 style="text-align:justify"> </h2> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bunny Mother</span>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">noun,</i> Retired Playboy Bunny oligarch responsible for hiring, firing,<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>training, conducting mandatory daily weigh-ins and scheduling<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>work shifts for Bunnies. Demerits were issued if grooming was less<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>than regulation perfect: “a clean well-fitted costume, matching</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span>ears and shoes, clean, fluffy cottontail, immaculate cuffs and<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>collar, Playboy cuff links, name plate and bow tie”. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wilson, Clerow “Flip” Jr. </span>(1933 - 1998) American comedian, actor and as<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>heralded by <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">TIME,</i> "TV's First Black Superstar". One of 18 children, reared in<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>foster homes and reform schools, Wilson joined the U.S. Air Force at age 16.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Wildly popular given his hilarious personality, the nickname “Flip” was<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"></span>spawned from Wilson’s self-described "flipped out" good nature.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Predictably, you’re instructed to bring a bikini when applying for the position of Playboy Bunny. Deliriously dehydrated from crash dieting you parade before the Bunny Mother in stilettos, hopefully are hired and before you can gain an infinitesimal gram of fat “your costume…the world-famous image of the glamorous Playboy Club—wear it proudly” is custom crafted to your present measurements. It’s over—you’re cast in stone, destined to bulging eyes if you breathe too deeply. The only wiggle room is in close proximity to your behind and its faux fur “cottontail”.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">A thinly veiled torture chamber, the Bunny costume is the first service uniform registered with the U. S. Patent and Trademark Office and can be seen on permanent display in The Smithsonian. According to the official <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Playboy Bunny Manual</i> “eating and drinking while in costume is forbidden”. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">No kidding</i>. “While in costume”…or ever. “Bunnies must wear false eyelashes and bright vivid lipstick accented by lip gloss. Your Bunny Mother will help you choose styles and color for maximum flattery.” And it’s all incriminatingly documented, pictures at 11:00. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Your clean well-fitted Bunny costume aside, the Playboy Club was hardly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.</i> Sorry Ernest. Bunnies, able to identify 143 brands of liquor (blindfolded) and artistically garnish 20 festive cocktail variations (with two paws, er, hands tied behind their backs) dispensed their hypnotically intoxicating elixirs in dimly lit lounges—all while executing the famous “Bunny Dip”. She “gracefully leans backwards while bending at the knees with the left knee lifted and tucked behind the right leg. This maneuver allows her to serve drinks while keeping her low-cut costume in place.” Translated: your cleavage clears the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">keyholder</i>’s<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"> </i>ogling, slobbering leer. Compared to the “Dip”, the Bunny “Stance and “Perch” were no-brainers. But if you even looked at food—forget it—doomsday. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">A card-carrying Baby Boomer, I’m incredulous surveying the latter half of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, particularly cultural trends regarding the corpus humanus and its maintenance. I howled over Flip Wilson’s character Reverend Leroy, pastor of “The Church Of What’s Happening Now” however, unequivocally, my favorite persona was Wilson’s self-preservationist, goody-goody Geraldine Jones: </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">“I don’t drink, I don’t smoke <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">and I don’t do windows</i>!” </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Let’s examine the span of our societal behavior. Exhibit A: <span style="color:black">exercise. We’d gone from relative inactivity to jumping jack flashing with TV’s Flying Wallenda-clad</span> Dorian Gray: Jack LaLanne. Now it’s a bona fide OCD: we’re working out “religiously” with or without expensive personal trainers—an obsession viral enough to prompt running in Central Park after dark? Yikes! Exhibit B: smoking—it was downright <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">trendy</i>. In the late 60’s<span style="color:black"> the Surgeon General might well have been Marcel Marceau</span>. While c<span style="color:black">ohabitating with nuns and sporting bad, box-pleated herringbone tweeds at a convent boarding school, secretly chain-smoking<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"> KOOL’s </i>became my<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"> salvation</i>. Decades later, society has effectively branded smokers leprous and, at least publicly, has legally curtailed the All American addiction. Exhibit C: drinking. With plastered Ray Milland in Billy Wilder’s harrowing film <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Lost Weekend</i> as a starting point, never before have so many folks, admirably, been in recovery. That said I presently have a window display of my art and a copy of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Seventh Day</i>’s Old Testament stories at the friendly neighborhood liquor store. And lastly, exhibit D:<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>the alimentary four letter f-word: </span>food. From a flabby road of trans-fatty fast food to “flavor of the month” celebrity chefs, to endless programming demonstrating infinite techniques for grilling Alaskan king salmon—enough—we’re full. Julia, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Top Chef</i>, Rachael, Nigella, Ina<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">, Iron Chef</i>, Iron Lung<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">, Aqualung</i>, Aqua Velva…Er, what were we talking about? </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Hear ye, hear ye. This accelerated body awareness has also brought psychological neuroses out of the woodwork manifesting in myriad eating disorders—tragically everything from anorexia to obesity. Even the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">NEW YORK TIMES</i> food critic Frank Bruni regurgitated his childhood of diets and disorders in a recent article,<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“I Was A Baby Bulimic” excerpted from his memoir, “Born Round: The Secret History of a Full-Time Eater,” </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Starve a cold, feed a fever. Feed the body. Starve the soul? Replacing the Biblical sacrificing of food to idols, the food has become the idol! A veritable golden calf, we worship the Kobe beef and it’s labor-intensive preparation but are catatonic vegetables when it comes to nourishing our souls. The insidious removal of God from his rightful place in our world—substituting everything from nouvelle cuisine to exercising our way to physical beauty—has created a highly contagious strain of spiritual anorexia.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">Okay, I had to Google them for clarification but here they are, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">official </i>four food groups: (1) meats, poultry, fish, dry beans, peas, eggs and nuts; (2) dairy products such as milk, cheese and yogurt; (3) grains; and (4) fruits and vegetables. Of course there are limitless combinations of these staples comprising every diet imaginable. Yet my research produced results referring to a possible fifth food group. Another group? I reckon the most cosmically nutritious—and hardly fifth in order of importance—would be the spiritual food group: soul food.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">We are what we eat? I’ve been known to binge on Hostess HoHo’s but I’m not going there with you. Where I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">will</i> go with you is two millennia back in time to the ritual simplicity of the Lord’s Supper—and then fast forward to “The Church Of What’s Happening Now”, or more accurately, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">still</i>. Hugely sentimental, I cherish tradition and tremble at the longevity of that humble meal. What’s the muscle versus fat ratio of your eternal soul? Do you crave food teaming with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">spiritual</i> vitamins and minerals that build strong <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">souls</i> in 12 ways? “Do this in memory of me.” Me. J.C. Jesus Christ. The original<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>“Top Chef”. Give it a try—the last supper you’ll ever need—and never go hungry again.</p>Barbara Camphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00857600050987391717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177379900775375273.post-19764669181282525882009-01-19T15:12:00.000-08:002009-01-19T15:17:37.225-08:00chapter 26, "on the seventh day GOD rested", dr. martin luther king jr.<span style="font-family: arial;">Psalm 23:4 Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">civil (siv’-ul) adjective 1. Observing the social proprieties; decently polite; not</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> rude. 3. Pertaining to relations between the citizens and the state, or</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> between citizens as regulated by law.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">rights (ritz) noun 1. Conditions with which mankind is supposedly endowed by </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> nature, such as the right to life, liberty, security and the pursuit of</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> happiness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">movement (moov’-munt) noun 1. The act of changing place or of movement</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> in any way. 2. A series of actions, incidents or ethical impulses</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> tending toward some end.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">In his brilliant letter from Birmingham City Jail dated April 16, 1963, the Baptist minister and theologian Dr. Martin Luther King pointed out that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Amen. Arrested and incarcerated after a lunch counter sit-in, the letter was composed on the only paper available to him in his cell, toilet paper. It hardly matters as the beauty and majesty of the text divinely transcends any mortal means. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">King cautioned that repressed emotions were in danger of being expressed through violence rather than the non-violent means he espoused. As the leader of a peaceful call to arms against segregation and racism, he left an indelible mark on humanity. He urged us as a country and as a people to obey God rather than the mistakes of man. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">“I’ve been to the mountaintop and I’ve seen the promised land. I might not get there with you…” On April 4, 1968 he stepped out onto the balcony of his Memphis hotel for, unbeknownst to him, an appointment in the “valley of the shadow of death”. Though in his speech the previous evening he was “fearing no man”, there still really wasn’t anything to fear as his life’s work was bigger than one assassin, even bigger than death. And like the many prophets martyred for their beliefs, the legacy of his “dream” lives on. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s not fair—such talent—cut down in his youth—why? We constantly forget that death is a fact of life and we’re all mortal. No one escapes it. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The statistics are still one out of one.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">“For you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” You will find comfort when you think of life in terms of quality, not necessarily quantity. Less can be more. Such comfort enables us to seriously determine what kind of legacy we ourselves will bequeath to this world. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">King stated “The means we use must be as pure as the end we seek.” Pure unadulterated truth is rooted in and endures for all eternity. So why not make the world a better place for your having been here? We all hope for a long productive life—emphasis on productive. But in the grand scheme of things, </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">it doesn’t necessarily matter how long you live, but how well you live. And besides, there are still hundreds of days left in the calendar year that, in commemoration of an exceptional life, can be named just for you. </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span>Barbara Camphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00857600050987391717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5177379900775375273.post-36670062469217765142008-04-16T14:43:00.000-07:002008-04-16T14:54:07.279-07:00april 16th<span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: courier new;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-family: webdings;"><span style="font-family: arial;">greetings,<br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">on the seventh day GOD rested...</span><br />and you can too!<br />just sign in here for future commentary.<br />bc<br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Barbara Camphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00857600050987391717noreply@blogger.com1