searching for Santa

We drove the hills of Little Neck after our class last Wednesday to find Christmas lighting. These are beautiful old money - old house neighborhoods. But after an hour we hadn't seen a single light. Weighing several explanations we returned home puzzled. It is a dominant Jewish community, but still, not even Chahunkah lighting.

and then . . .



















Mainer's Chapel 
lights across the Sound 
a gentle snowfall 
The Great Neck Choral Society 
  Ralph Vaughan Williams Hodie 
and of course, 
  standing for Handel's great chorus 

Yoolis Coolest

"I'm ready to move out in front"

"I wanna feel my heart coming alive again
 Before the parade passes by... " 

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Dino-Decorations at the Museum of
Natural History near parade start

The idea arose on our way back from the July 4th celebration. After all, that had gone off very well. Our CES coordinator Stan Kauffman  and his wife Shirley had graciously escorted us to the fireworks display, and maybe we were ready for the big-time. Stan said that he had received good tips on schedules and viewing locations for The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I looked over to check with Stefanie and saw that she was talking to Shirley and probably had not heard our discussion. So I turned back to Stan, "Sounds great. We're in!"

Because Thanksgiving dinner would follow the parade, and an early start was needed, we planned a two day outing. The Kauffman's invited us to spend Wednesday night in their Queens pad. They also invited friends from New Haven, Connecticut, Stan's CES counterpart at Yale, and a church chaplain. Like the Kauffmans, they are a couple with many interesting stories and ideas to share.

A popular part of the parade experience is attending the "inflation of the balloons." Sort of like Pamplona's prequel "Running of the bulls," but slower. If the winds are not too high, they are filled the evening before. It was raining on our arrival. The temperature was in the 20's, the winds were under their threshold, so the balloons were out and about.

The Amazing Spiderman - Most popular character in the queue 

We went cross-town for meatballs and then back to the Kauffman's for desert and late games.

Thanksgiving morning. 

Wind-chill forecast in the teens. We arose early, bundled up and headed back in to Manhattan.

Our spot was Avenue of the Americas and 57th. We tried to cross west for a better view, but were stopped by spectator density about 20 feet from the curb. We settled in. The parade lasts about three hours, but our plan was was and earlier exit. I had a decent angle on the balloons, floats and even the bands, but they wouldn't be arriving for another hour. We had no illusions. The best view was on the flat screen back home. This was cultural ambiance. It was all around us.

An early awareness: It is much warmer in this press of bodies.

View from my post - not bad 

We could hear increasing sound and vibrations from the north. The flux of anticipation, elation on faces. The children across the street. I strained to see around the corner.

My attention shifts gradually. I hear them at some distance. Late arrivals.  "Excuse me, excuse me, I need to get past. Excuse me, we're trying to get to the front. We cant see back here. Could you move please, we need to get forward." Phalanxes of two or three, pushing - probing. A bump on one side. I here cheers from the street. Hey, isn't that, that singer, what's her name? A shove on the other side. There's Spiderman. I try to bring my camera up. Some of my neighbors gently resist. Some are less gentle. Proximity's shrink. I see Stefanie drifting upstream. Looking behind, the crowd is 200 bodies deep. Usurper's persistence is rewarded. I think, "that's right, I chose to be back here because I prefer mediocre views. If you are one of those that prefer good views, you need to be at the front. That's where the best views are . . . you're welcome."

There are two parades.
The sidewalk promenade has become more interesting.

Cold and tired, we retreated, trading parade stories on the train home. Thanksgiving dinner was excellent. Stan shared a story from the life of B.H.Roberts and the Thanksgiving Psalm which led to further discussion and insights on the meaning of gratitude.

So, what's next?

New Years Eve?   Fashion Week?   The Marathon?

I think we're done for now.

Sir! no Sir!

Hi Erin -

 

Inbox

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Chris Owens chrisjowens@gmail.com	12/1/13
to erin.owens

Hope you had a meaningful Thanksgiving. They cook turkey there right? Do they have turkeys? Mom and I went to two ward sessions hoping to meet an investigator at the first one. No show. So - a long day. But we enjoyed a great testimony meeting in the family ward and had fun with the youth in YSA service.  

Mom said she mentioned our Macy's parade adventure, so I'll skip my perspective on the "human sardine can," other than to note that it was a vivid and interesting cultural experience. The big story this week was our airport debacle - still too close to the bone for mom to discuss.

Some of our students at the Marine Academy asked us to drive them to the airport for their Thanksgiving breaks. We dutifully arrived and picked up three of them. Despite the rush hour timeline, we successfully navigated to JFK in less than  an hour. 

Just as we were verbally patting ourselves on the back, one of our passengers asked why we were at JFK (Southshore) when their flights were leaving from Laguardia Airport (Northshore). 

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! 

45 Minutes until lift-off. Quickly shifted to the Van Wyck cross Island - pointed to Laguardia. 5MPH. Raining. Highway looking like a parking lot. Backseat suddenly verrry quiet. Anxious faces all around. Mother praying. Dad praying. Crawling, crawling, crawling . . . then prayers answered! Traffic congestion eased and the passengers dropped off with 25 minutes remaining. Fortunately they are all in top physical condition, and in uniform. 

We received texts on our return through Queens. All flights made. Wow. Life on the island with crazy dad. 

PS: Stef drolly noted that our chauffeur services for Christmas break would likely NOT be needed. 

eye single

I don't know how anyone got around here before global positioning. There seems to be only one response to any question that begins, "How do I get to . . . . ?
Response: Do you have GPS?
Everyone uses it. Constantly.
We do have GPS. I have used it for years when I hike or when traveling to another state.
On long Island you use it to go to the corner supermarket. Spoiled by decades navigating western traffic grids, we were frequently lost at first. If I missed a turn, I would take the next one, assuming that the streets would eventually hook up. They don't.
You may end up in a different county, or the Bronx. The geometry is simple. No road is parallel to any other road. Locals insist that avenues on the island evolved from cow trails. That explanation fits. I get lost on neighborhood walks. A compounding difficulty is that U-turns are illegal almost everywhere. Right turns at red lights are also discouraged.

Humbled, we now depend on GPS and only get lost occasionally. We often enjoy the detours. There is so much foliage, Its like driving through a park. The destination might be mere steps away. You'll never see it. But hey, what's that interesting thing coming up around the bend? Teaching for CES you begin to see gospel illustrations everywhere. So we sometimes incorporate these frolics into our lessons. One quick photo and its in the PowerPoint:

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Halloween decorations?  

The Lamanite curse 

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A sweet diversion?  

Chris and Stefanie's "Plan of Happiness"

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Charles Addams Retrospective in Southampton?  

Evil Incarnate 

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 I don't remember what this one was about . . . 

Jerusalem to Jericho

And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho . . . Luke 10:30 

Bethphage in the Holy Land 

2013AD sometime around August 

Dear friend and gentle blog-reader Rose Carson posts a question: What is Bethpage? 

The sad insight here is that this blog is maintained in fits and starts and we didn't even notice that there was a comment field until November. Sorry Rose. 

FLASHBACK 

2013AD June 9, Provo, Utah (mere hours before appointment at MTC)  

Elder Owens: Why don't we call our missionary blog "Mission to Montauk?" 

Sister Owens: Absolutely not. No one knows what montak is. Your wierd. What is montak? 

Elder Owens: It is the lighthouse point on the eastern tip of Long Island. 

Sister Owens: That's not where we will be. 

Elder Owens: Probably not, but the alliteration is perfect. 

Sister Owens: No. 

Later that night 

Elder Owens (perusing Google maps) 

Sister Owens (asleep) 

Elder Owens (to himself): Farmingdale? Mission to Farmingdale? Loser. Sounds like a mission to Hicksville. 

(BTW, Hicksville - actual town six miles west of mission apartment) 

Wait. what is the name of that large park next door? Bethpage? Right there! (finger on map) "Old Bethpage" Hey - 'Owens in Old Bethpage.' the 'Old' is good. Sounds distinguished. This might work . . . 

A blog is born - 

2013AD, Early August, Old Bethpage, New York  

Elder Owens is enjoying his sunrise walks through Bethpage Park. Solitude. Morning mist. Muted colors. Apples and pecans ripening in the trees. 

On Sunday he asks Frank Mansuetto about all the golfers in the park. Frank looks surprised. "You know! . . . five courses. . . . the U.S. Open . . . . . the Bethpage Black." Well, that would explain the large groups of golphers disembarking at the train station every day.

I felt like a cultural sports idiot. Further research was obviously needed. This usually means Wikipedia, where I quickly learned that the "PGA lists Bethpage Black on its top ten 'World's Most Beautiful Courses' list." Golf Digest ranked it #6 of America's 50 toughest courses.

It also has a polo field.

But isn't bethpage a hebrew word?
I mean, beth means home or something, doesn't it?

WAY FLASHBACK 

1695AD  Long Island, New York 

Thomas Powell buys 10,000 acres from local Indian tribes for 140 English pounds. He notices that his new purchase sits between the Long Island towns of Jericho and Jerusalem. In mind that the biblical Bethphage was located between Jericho and Jerusalem he names his New York holding Bethphage as well. 

Jerusalem, Long Island later changed its name to Wantagh. Jericho is the same. Eventually, the second "H" in the Long Island "Bethpage" was dropped. 

• Bethphage in Hebrew means "house of figs." 
• It is located on today's West Bank. 
• It begins the story of Jesus' triumphant ride into Jerusalem. 

"As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, 'Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, tell him that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away'" (Matt 21:1-3; see also Mark 11:1, Luke 19:29, Zech 9:9). 

 FLASH FORWARD 

2013AD, August 27, Las Vegas (wedding reception for James)   

Don McClelland: So where are you in New York Chris? 

Elder Owens: We're right next to the Old Bethpage Park. You know, "house of figs" . . . . like in the holy land . . . . Triumphal ride . . . . 

(blank looks all around) 

Elder Owens: You know! . . . five courses . . . . the U.S. Open . . . . . the Bethpage Black? 

Don (now beaming leans over to Dave Lovett): Hey, Chris lives by the Bethpage Black course. 

Excitement. 

All of us now nodding and grinning knowingly. 

Elder Owens basking in a shared sports-fan moment. 

The inner circle. 

A new experience. 

Well, there you have it Rose. The answer to your Bethpage question. 

And more. 

Rose? 

Are you still there Rose?? 

The Old Lenox Country Club on hill, Bethpage State Park, panorama view from my Droid Nexus 

Princess Nina

"Warning: Some of your colleagues are afraid—deeply, irrationally afraid—of social media. Social media can seem threatening to coworkers who are uncomfortable with technology or those who fear change or who have control issues. Or those who are from a more Gutenbergian era. Or paranoid privacy freaks. Or, come to think of it, "normal" human beings who don't wish to stream their immediate thoughts onto the Internet." MarketingProfs, Ken Gordon | April 29, 2011  

Guilty! We are committed SocialMediaPhobes. We deeply cherish our personal privacy. It was clear early-on that our aversion was inconsistent with the Church's new media presence. During the Pre-MTC Training we dutifully completed hours of reading, study, videos and family history worksheets, but still fell short of a perfect rating.








Our (no longer) Secret Shame? 

This is, of course, a critical dereliction because we are specifically called to, "share our testimony with those who are not of our faith."

btw - is there web-site like this for the celestial kingdom? I mean, is 90% good . . . never mind 

Fortunately, there is, "a space granted unto man in which he might repent." The process began one week before the start of September classes. We read on-line testimonies of classroom teachers, borrowed several dummies books from the Farmingdale Public Library, and finally, enlisted Ranny and one of our young students in the cause. The page was up and running by the weekend. Facebook only. We drew the line at insta-gram and twitter. Nobody needs that much interaction in an institute class. Our posts have been erratic, but fun. It is a fan page format, so people can't unfriend us. They can only "like" us.

https://www.facebook.com/PlainviewYSAInstitutePage

Unfortunately, to set up an organization page on Facebook, a personal profile and site presence is required. We don't maintain the personal page. Facebook keeps prompting us to complete our profile, (ElderandSister, where do you work? | Do you live near Farmingdale?), but we ignore it.

Which brings us, finally, to Nina, one of our students. She is Princess Nina on-line, and attended the Plainview Ward Trunk-or-Treat as Snow White. The event was the same evening as institute class, which she visited in her full courtly regalia.

BEFORE:
















and AFTER:

We tagged her in the photo. Princess Nina was delighted and the page received many fun comments from her friends and coworkers.

There was an anxious moment immediately after I hit the post button, wondering whether I had inserted the correct regal entourage: Hmmmmm, Cinderella and her FGM . . . Sleeping Beauty and the fairies . . . Snow white and . . . Yep. Dwarfs. Seven of them.

Social media and everyday princesses.
We are believers now.

If it looks like a duck . . .

National Register of Historic Places 1997 . . . seriously  

Q.  What starts with a duck, then slowly winds 30 miles along South Fork bays and hamlets before ending at a lighthouse? 

A.  The NY-NY South senior missionary Mecca to Montauk. 

(One of the semi-monthly social excursions to New York environs. You don't need a senior discount card to join the group. But it helps.) 

BIG DUCK - Flanders, NY.  #1 among the 7 wonders of Long Island, just ahead of the Commack Motor Inn and inspiration for the architectural term: Duck - "a building in which the architecture is subordinate to the overall symbolic form." Venturi, Robert, Denise Scott Brown, and Steven Izenour. Learning from Las Vegas: The Forgotten Symbolism of Architectural Form. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1977;  Representational Architecture, Roadside Attractions, NPS 

BIKE RIDING IN THE HAMPTONS 

TOURIST STYLE . . . . . . . . . . . . and LOCAL STYLE 

The Montauk Point Light, hamlet of Montauk, Town of East Hampton, Suffolk County, New York
A popular location for marriage proposals and weddings  

View from lighthouse dome west toward Manhattan 

Stefanie watched one wedding while we were on the point. An older gentleman was marrying a very youthful bride. The minister began. "We are here to witness the union of a young bride and her financially comfortable groom."   A little hamptons honesty?   Refreshing.











Locals are fond of travelling to Montauk Point and watching the sun rise. One hopeful young man in our YSA branch recently included this celestial tradition in his wedding proposal: Sunrise at Point Light and Sunset in Central Park, where he presented the ring. Vanessa accepted. 

https://www.facebook.com/vanesa.villanes

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Yes - it's a Pottery Barn.
Southampton. 

Peeping (day 2)

CarTalk Program #1239: 
The Truth About Leaf Peepers
Description: This week on Car Talk, welcome to foliage season! Tourists are descending on New England, and locals like Kurt have plenty of time to sit in traffic, developing theories about the drivers clogging his roads . . . 
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Still in leaf country, But due back on the island Tuesday night. The Plan: further exploration of Williamstown and then a southerly meander through western Massachusetts . . . 

We began with a tour of Williams and its art museum. An ancient rival of Amherst, this small liberal arts college was recently ranked by Forbes magazine as the best undergraduate institution in the United States, including all Ivy League universities and national liberal arts colleges. This marks its eleventh consecutive year as 1st place in U.S. News & World Report's ranking of 266 liberal arts colleges in the United States. 

Mid-October is peak leaf season in the Berkshires, but it is a weekday. So we owned the road, or did, once we found it. The Notch has a devilishly clever access point from North Adams. We passed it several times before the connection. Five seconds later, we entered a cloister of drooping cloud and dense wood. Sound and colors were muted. Twisting through grades we glimpsed a few hikers and trail crossings. I noticed one sign with familiar lettering and remembered that the Appalachian Trail crossed through . . .somewhere. 

Yes. I got out and "walked" the Appalachian Trail. 

We stopped at a boutique restaurant in the town of Lenox and met a self-declared foodie couple. They told us of travels made chiefly to sample the local gastro fare. Lunch was the high moment of their day. Our main purpose was to reconnoiter the Tanglewood estate and anticipate a summer meet with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, et al. It is beautiful, but not much happening there now. The nearby village of Stockbrige is famously mentioned in James Taylor's lullaby Sweet Baby James. 

Our time was now spent and we needed a freeway desperately. We decided to save Litchfield Connecticut for another day. The afternoon waned as we jetted down Highway 8 into Bridgeport, driving our Mazda into the ferry's belly bare minutes before departure. Stefanie was an additional fare charge. 

We studied our Books of Mormon (2nd Nephi) from the top deck on the hour cruise over the Sound. Then, down the ramp into Port Jefferson and up the hill to Terryville Chapel and our Tuesday class.