Tag Archive | Paris

Feeling Safe in our Homes Away from Home

SKMBT_C28016061316360 copy

1975: Mim and me with a friend in front of our favorite neighborhood bar – Moody’s Pub

“Paris” is the closest experience to “Pulse” (the gay bar in Orlando) I can relate to. Twenty-five years ago, when Mim and I still lived in Chicago, occasionally we would go with a couple friends to “Paris,” a lesbian nightclub on the mid-north side of Chicago. The four of us would sit at the bar, sip on a glass of wine or an imported non-alcoholic citrus flavored sparkling water, try to carry on a conversation over the loud music, and watch dozens of women dancing together. We never ventured out on the dance floor ourselves, because growing up in a Methodist family who considered dancing sinful, I didn’t know how to dance. Going to “Paris” wasn’t our favorite means of socializing, but there’s no doubt we could feel the positive energy in the room. It felt good to be in a place where we weren’t afraid to be identified as gay. Even though we didn’t know most of the people, there was a definite sense of community in the room.

We visited with friends in our home – or theirs – more often than we went out to bars, but there were three other bars in Chicago that we frequented more regularly than “Paris.”

SKMBT_C28016061408070When I was going to grad school a couple evenings a week, sometimes Mim would meet me after class and we would walk to “Sherlock’s Home.” The atmosphere was just as I imagined a personal library in an old English mansion to be like. There was no bar to sit around. Instead the darkened room was scattered with small groupings of leather wingback chairs, end tables, and floor lamps. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with old hardcover books. Mim and I would usually share a plate of French bread, baked brie, and fresh fruit along with a couple glasses of wine as we talked about our days. It was a good way to unwind at the end of very busy days.

Whenever we had out-of-town guests, and we thought they would enjoy seeing the more elegant side of Chicago, we would take them to the lounge of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel atop Water Tower Place downtown. The lounge was like a very large living room with lots of groupings of sofas, easy chairs, and coffee tables. Each coffee table had a crystal dish filled with mixed nuts (no peanuts!). One wall of the room was all glass, revealing magnificent views of the “Magnificent Mile” – Michigan Avenue lined with Chicago’s most exclusive shops. There was a grand piano in the room, and usually a pianist was playing Broadway tunes.

10205-land_l

Moody’s cheeseburgers are often rated the best in Chicago.

“Moody’s Pub” was our most usual bar to go to. It was a neighborhood bar that had the best burgers anywhere. We’re still trying to find a bar in Wisconsin that measures up to the standard they set. We went there often enough that George, the waitress, knew what we wanted and brought us a bottle of our favorite wine when she came to confirm our order of two cheeseburgers, medium and medium well, no onion and extra pickles.

Although I grew up never darkening the door of a bar, I have learned that bars play an important role in our lives – a home away from home to get together with friends, share a meal or a drink, and enjoy each other’s company. A bar is a place of comfort, as well as a place for excitement. It’s a place to get together with like-minded souls.

The people who gathered at “Pulse” in Orlando last Saturday night – people who were celebrating their God-given gift of being created gay – suffered a terrible loss. A hundred of them were injured or killed by one person shooting a highly efficient assault weapon. And in addition to the tragedy of those deaths and injuries, thousands, even millions of people worldwide suffered a loss in their sense of safety. Is it safe to go to a gay bar any more? Is it safe to participate in a gay pride parade in any city – even Madison? Is it even safe to go to school? Or church? Or a movie theater? Can we feel safe anywhere outside of our homes?

Personally, I feel pretty safe living in Cambridge, Wisconsin. But I know I would feel safer if we had better gun control laws. I would also feel safer if we as a society made it a priority to learn to respect people who are different from us – a different race, a different nationality, a different sexual orientation, a different religion, a different socio-economic status… I would feel much, much safer if we placed a higher priority on loving our neighbor.

One of the Psalms we sing fairly often at Messiah Lutheran Church is “Psalm 27: The Lord is My Light.” Here are the words as we sing them.

Refrain:
The Lord is my light and my salvation,
of whom shall I be afraid, of whom shall I be afraid?

The Lord is my light and my help; whom should I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life; before whom should I shrink?

There is one thing I ask of the Lord; for this I long:
to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.

I believe I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living;
hope in God, and take heart. Hope in the Lord!

Text:  Psalm 27:1-2, 4, 13-14; David Haas
Music:  David Haas   ©️1983, GIA Publications, Inc.

Moodys w Marilyn M M

Last summer Mim and I went back to Moody’s. We joined an old friend in the beer garden for Sangria and burgers.

The Best Thing about Darkness

There seems to be much more darkness in the world today than there was a week ago, when I last posted my thoughts on this blog.

Clock and Calendar

In the most literal sense, the sun rose 9 minutes later today than it rose a week ago, and it will set 7 minutes earlier than it set a week ago – a net change of 16 minutes more darkness today than last Tuesday. By next Tuesday we’ll lose another 15 minutes of daylight. I don’t know how these times are calculated, but I trust the chart that is displayed on www.SunriseSunset.com. And, in a general sense, these times are confirmed by my personal observations. I’ve noticed that it’s getting dark a lot earlier in the evening, and I’ve noticed the same thing has happened this time of the year every year of my life. We’re moving into a season of darkness, a time when there is more darkness than light.

In a global news sense, the terrorist attacks in Paris last Friday night have brought a terrible sense of darkness across the whole world. How can there be so much hate in the world that people kill other people that they don’t even know? I don’t understand ISIS. But I don’t understand how we can turn a blind eye to people who don’t have food to eat and who will soon starve to death, either. And I don’t understand why there is extreme poverty in the world, in the United States, in Wisconsin, and yes, poverty, hunger, and homelessness even in my own home town. All around, we’re in a season of moral darkness, as well as having fewer hours of daylight.

eiffel-tower - night

The Eiffel Tower in Paris – the City of Light

Adding to this season of darkness, a friend of mine posted an entry on www.CaringBridge.com yesterday.

The days are darker and time seems to be going fast. After several consultations with my radiation oncologist and others on my cancer care team, I have chosen to start radiation once a day for 15 days. The team thinks it may shrink the [brain] tumors enough to slow down some of the cancer progress and symptoms. Discussion indicates possible life expectancy of two weeks, or two months, or who knows.

RuthAnn WilsonWell, those are all guesses. No one knows, of course. I will live every day the best I am able….

So far I have minimal pain and very loving care.

I have received many precious cards and letters from many of you. I treasure each one, and I enjoy reading them over and over, or having them read to me. I wish I could answer each one of you. Please know that I appreciate you so very much….

My friend is an inspiration to all of us who know her. Even though she is walking through “the valley of the shadow of death” she knows that God is with her, and she is comforted by God’s presence. Her strong faith and positive attitude are truly a comfort to all of us.

Lots of darkness is surrounding me today as I write this, but the best thing about a season of darkness was highlighted to me this morning as I read My Personal Daily Prayer Book by Christine A. Dallman and Margaret Anne Huffman.

Small deeds of goodness in the aftermath of trouble, like fireflies flickering against a dark sky, can blanket the world with sparkling lights.

When Mim and I still lived on the farm, sometimes on summer evenings, after dark, just before going to bed, we would walk our dogs to the end of the driveway to look across the road at the soybean field, glowing with hundreds, maybe thousands, of fireflies hovering just above the plants like silent fireworks. It was a beautiful sight, one that could only be seen in the darkness.

Fireflies over field

I can’t stop the days from getting shorter this time of year.  I can’t stop terrorists from killing. And I can’t feed everyone in the world who is starving. But I can listen to someone who is grieving. And I can send a card to let someone know I’m thinking about them and praying for them. And I can donate to the local food pantry.

I like the image of being one of the fireflies hovering over the dark field. Care to join me? Together we can make a marvelous display of hope above the darkness.

Fireflies close up