ODDS AND ENDS

We arrived home earlier this week from a trip to Nebraska where I was speaking---good travel and good times. Last night we went to the movie There Will Be Blood which was over-rated with 4 stars in our local paper. The cultic church and preacher-boy were superficial, not at all believable. The movie is loosely taken from Oil by Sinclair Lewis. We woke up this morning discussing it and then began sparring about Sinclair Lewis vs. Upton Sinclair, both writing their classic works (Elmer Gantry and The Jungle) in 1927. Late this morning we went skiing, the sun giving me what felt like a grand mal hot flash most of the way. I opened my vest and went barehanded but was still way too hot--though not as hot as I was a few years ago on a warm winter day when we were skiing at our little remote farm up north. I kept stripping until I was bare-breasted, leaving my layers along the trail and picking them up as we returned. No chance of anyone--except dear John--seeing me then. I'm not sure I'd do that again. Back then I had to live up to the seminary administration's accusation of ungodliness. Now I'm just being me.