HOME RUN . . .

Dr.J is about to propose to his Dollface soon ... and all the guys I know are (jokingly, I think ... I hope) egging him on to do it via the JumboTron at Continental Arena during a Nets game. When we ladies protest the sheer stupidity of that idea, they concede ... and suggest he do it during a Lakers game instead.

In response to my total vehemence against the JumboTron proposal, this is the counter-attack I get: "what if your dream man, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Ever-So-Right-For-You, proposed to you via the announcer-guy at YANKEE STADIUM?"

Alright, I confess, I had to pause for a moment.
Yankee Stadium.
Now that is totally different from Continental Arena.
Hmmm ....

But the point is: I'm me and Dollface is Dollface, and who knows what would move her heart to say "yes"? Dr.J says it would be a day she'll never forget. Still ... I say it will be a day she'll never let him forget.

***

ICK . . .

Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are dating. I suppose this doesn't matter anymore in this day and age, but he's 42 and she's 26. That's like ... a lot of years' difference.

TWENTY-SIX. Do I even remember being 26?

Ew.

But aside from that ... I am so NOT a Tom Cruise fan. He's trite, trite and trite, and squints far too much. And all I know about Katie Holmes, other than tidbits from her "Dawson's Creek" days, is that every single Korean-American man/boy I know thinks she's simply the cat's meow. Oh, that and the fact that C.o.S. looks like her.

What an odd couple. Odd and icky.

***

ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING . . .

(By the way, I think that's the title of a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" episode.)

Last night during our care group meeting, the question arose: why does Jesus act with compassion so many times during the Gospels, as opposed to any other emotion, such as love, or mercy, or kindness, or generosity? Why, of the entire gamut of nice, apparently godly emotions, do the Scriptures seem to emphasize His compassion the most?

I've never studied this, and I have no idea what the original Greek or Hebrew or whatever says on the issue, but I suspect it's because He is He and we are we. Jesus was and is the epitome of everything we are not, and I think this is especially the case when it comes to having compassion for people. We humans are awfully good at saying (and actually following through with the idea) that we love people. We're also good at being nice to people and feeling bad for them when they suffer tragedies. We as a human race are particularly good at being angry with others. Humanity is good at feeling and exhibiting almost every emotion that exists.

But we as a whole are not particularly good at feeling compassion for people -- as Ed defined it, "with passion," feeling with the other person.

I think of myself and the people for whom I am, in my own pathetically limited way, able to feel with passion. I feel with passion when Hooch is hacking up a lung. I feel with passion when JKA is exhausted. I feel with passion when C is stressed out. I feel with passion when Soybean's eyes are swollen nearly shut from allergies. I feel with passion when Cheech has to pull an all-nighter. I feel with passion when my gran is injured. I feel with passion when Ed's gran passes away. I feel with passion when Omma and Appa are burdened. I feel with passion when Nan worries for her son. And as I think over the people for whom I feel with passion, it occurs to me that these are all people whom I love with my whole heart.

It also occurs to me that for those whom I do not love with my whole heart, I do not and cannot feel with passion. The shrill and annoying one I see too often for my own comfort and who makes me see red every moment because she is so annoying ... the loud and obnoxious one who always seems to butt in even as I move further away ... the emotionally fragile one who subjects everyone around her to her unstable fragility ... the repeat offenders who walk through our courtrooms ... the oblivious one on the cell phone in the car in front of me clearly having a fight with someone while driving, creating a hazard for every other commuter on the road ... I feel no compassion for these. Any I manage to muster up during particularly harmonious times seems fake and contrived, and is far too short-lived.

Compassion is hard. It's nearly impossible to have and to give. I suspect that's why, or that's one of the reasons why, God-breathed Scripture speaks of compassion so often. The depth of Christ's compassion speaks volumes of the difference between Him and us, and how far we must crawl on our hands and knees to overcome this vastness and to even approach the state of being like Him in heart and soul. That's why only Jesus could offer compassion, because He was and is He, and we, sadly, are simply us.

***

LORD OF THE DANCE . . .

The cult of "Napoleon Dynamite" is slowly and steadily putting down deep roots at NHF. Bomma-lomma-ding-dong and I have made quotes from the film part of our everyday dialogue. More and more people have been exposed to The Dance Sequence, and I suspect many of them are secretly practicing it in the privacy of their own homes, as of course, I am.

But the icing on the cake really came last night, when Ed showed me this: The Napoleon Dynamite Bible Study for Teens.

He claims it was for my amusement, but I know in my heart of hearts that he really wants to do the Bible study. I just know it. Why else would he have even gone through the effort of locating this awesome product on the Web anyway? I know he's one of the legions already practicing The Dance Sequence. The Bible study can't possibly be far behind ...

(By the way, I love the disclaimer: "This Bible study is not an endorsement of the movie by Christianity Today International. Before watching this film, please get advice and guidance from your parents or youth pastor.")

***

THREE AND COUNTING . . .

Sooooo ... it's been three days since my marathon interview. At what point do I start getting ants in my pants?

***

THIRTY-TWO AND COUNTING . . .

Omma and Appa just keep on going. Dang.

***

Finished: In the Absence of Sun ..., by Helie Lee
Reading: Eating My Words, by Mimi Sheraton and Arc of Justice, by Kevin Boyle