Saturday, April 30, 2011

My Mom...The Felon.

       I have to beg your indulgence on this one. The events that I am about to relate are true. They happened after I was a boy, but not yet married. I apologize in advance to my mom and a few other people for dragging this out of the closet. If you see Miss Rita after reading this, try not to tease her too much.

      I come from a long line of famous-in-their-circle musicians. My great-great grand pappy was a fiddle player who is often credited with composing Soldier’s Joy during the Civil War. His boy taught his boy (Melvin Wine) who influenced my mom, who raised me. I learned all sorts of cool stuff from mom: gardening, milking cows, music and a directness with people that is sometimes to our detriment, which is a big part of this story.

      In 1991, my Grandpa Melvin was honored by the National Endowment for the Arts as a National Heritage Fellow for his lifetime of work at playing and preserving Appalachian Folk Music. It’s kinda a big deal…http://www.nea.gov/honors/heritage/fellows/fellow.php?id=1991_16&type=bio   The award came with a big poster, some pocket jingle and an invitation to play a tune at the Kennedy Center. Not too shabby for one of the most humble and peaceable men I have ever known. Seriously, he could have taught Gandhi a thing or two.

      The Wine family being what it is, we loaded up a tour bus and went along with Grandpa for his visit to the big city. If you are hearing the theme song from The Beverly Hillbillies, then you are on the right track. As a brief aside, if you ever have the chance to ride 6 hours in a tour bus….don’t. Seriously, trust me on this.

      So we roll into D.C. and check into the hotel with the admonition from mom not to raid the mini-bar. It’s a Friday and not much else is going on. My little brother and I, along with our girlfriends, decide to take in some of the sights. Walking along the Mall and seeing the spotlighted Vietnam Vets bronze statues appear out of the gloom of a summer evening is a vivid memory that I hope sticks with me forever. That and The Wall, and the Lincoln Memorial, and….well, you get the picture. Of course, the P.O.W.M.I.A. people looked at us askance, it being dark in D.C. and we being very white on the Mall. They feared for our safety and made us call a cab to get back to the hotel.

      The next morning we boarded the bus to go to a reception for that year’s honorees in some Federal building. Milling around in the lobby, I was a bit starstruck to note B.B. King was also being honored that year and we would later get to meet him. So imagine the scene: A hundred or so people in a Federal building, waiting to go thru the metal detectors and hang out with various Senators and fellow honorees with their families…when all of a sudden, momma Rita turns to me and says, “I’ve got a gun in my purse.”

      Let that sink in.

      Gun. In. Her. Purse…..Federal. Building….Washington, D.C.

      Holy. Crap.

      I quickly offered to take it back to the tour bus, but whipping out a pistol seemed a poor idea at the time, given the crowded venue with looming guards and men with ear-pieces who were talking into their sleeves. So mom and Melissa went back out to put her purse on the bus and be done with it. Of course, the bus is gone. Of course, they can’t come back in and face the metal detectors. Of course they decide to toss the little .22 caliber pistol in the bushes….outside a Federal building….in Washington D.C. ….in broad daylight….within a couple hundred feet of a police box.

      No. I am not making this up.

      So mom comes back in, just as cool as a cucumber and rejoins the tour group. All is well. We pass the detectors and meet the other honorees and marvel at the cool artisanship of their work. The quilts were stunning. B.B. King was gracious to anyone who wanted a picture. The displays of traditional artwork were impressive, as were the men in suits who eventually accosted Miss Rita.

      Just as a public service, let me point out that when approached by D.C. police it is never a good idea to spout off, “Oh, I see you found my gun.” It is a weak opening gambit that leaves you little room for debate or discussion. This we learned from mom’s example. We also learned that the D.C. police and the Federales despise each other and love nothing else so much as a good pissing match over jurisdiction, which is exactly what we had since mom’s clever repartee had been heard by representatives from both forces.

      So my mom, 50-something widower from the hills of WV, who wouldn’t say “poo” if her mouth was full of it was caught up in the machine of D.C. justice. She was booked and searched like a dangerous felon. I’m sure a few of you understand what that means. Not Fun.

      Also not fun was the pre-cell phone era chase around town trying to catch up with her and bail her out. Eventually, Senators Byrd and Rockefeller got involved to expedite the process. So my mom was convicted of weapons possession and run thru the system in record time. She managed to make it to the concert at the Kennedy Center just in time to see her dad play.

      Overall a pretty standard trip for my family.

      If you would like to hear a few of Melvin's tunes, here's a link...http://www.myspace.com/melvinwine ... Cold Frosty Morning is a personal favorite. Pretty sure mom is a big fan of I'll Fly Away.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Ringing the Bell


I was looking back at some of my earlier posts on this blog, smiling at this, shaking my head at that and wondering how I could even publish some of those other things. Something all writers do. Well, not just writers, any creator looks back at his creation and sighs sometimes or laughs. “Wow, that didn’t turn out the way I expected.” Or maybe, “That looks better now than it did when I started.”

When I was a boy, my father worked with his hands. He spent years working as a welder and craftsman at Murray’s Sheet metal shop in Parkersburg where his mates eventually made a little wand with a star on top that they gave him due to his wizardry with metal. It was made of stainless steel and rather heavy. I wonder what became of it? He had a unique way of seeing problems and often came up with surprising answers, which is why the really hard jobs came to him so often. He was a creator.

When we boys were born, he decided he didn’t want to raise us in the pollution of the Ohio Valley, so we settled in the magick-heavy valley of Sinking Creek near Glenville. For awhile he continued to work at Murray’s, but the commute was too long and he felt like he was missing out on raising his sons and so, Chapman Sheet Metal was born.

It was a small operation, dad and us boys really. But it put food on the table and kept us connected. Back then, air ducts for heating and air conditioning were made by hand at a metal brake. Bent to spec and installed by hand. Not cookie-cutter tubes that get tacked up in basements or slung thru attics. It was custom work. Individualized and special. It was an act of creation every time dad put in a furnace.

Dad created tons of things: tall bikes, winch-powered cranes, an underground house, solar heating systems, a metal bed….one of mom’s least favorite things. His creations weren’t always pretty or even functional, but he never stopped making something. He always had an idea for how to make it better. Everything.

He was a church leader, yet was for legalization of marijuana, quite the shocker during the 70’s. He thought the criminal element was worse than a few stoners eating pizza all night. He wanted to sing, but couldn’t carry a tune, so he worked like crazy at it. God bless JoAnn McHenry for her enormous patience. He knew, at an instinctive level, that The Church had gone wrong somewhere along the way and he applied all his work ethic and creativity to trying to fix Her.

He wasn’t always right, but he was always sincere. Thousands of people came to know Christ thru his ministry. He touched the lives of people wherever he went with a message that was accessible to working men and professors. “Try to do just a little more next time” was one of his main themes. “If you can say ‘Pray for me’ in church, then next time say ‘Please, pray for me.’” He was joining a long line of theologians who saw that something was amiss and worked to advance The Church as best he knew how. Something more than simple human failings was to blame, in his mind. There was some fundamental flaw in modern Christian teachings.

I think Earle Chapman would have liked Rob Bell.

For those of you unfamiliar with Rob Bell, he is causing a bit of a stir. He has a few books out, most notably Velvet Elvis and Love Wins that re-examine current doctrine and teachings. He is looking for that fundamental flaw in The Church and stepping on some toes while doing it. He, like my father, is part of a long line of discussion that has shaped and formed the church for ages. He, like my father isn’t always right (ask mom about that clunker of a metal bed) but he seems sincere and asks questions no one else wants to answer. Earle and Rob wouldn’t have agreed on everything, but it seems to me they think the same way.

I have only read thru the two books I mentioned earlier, just a single reading so far. I’m not buying his conclusions, but I’ll amen a lot of what he says about the love of God and the exclusion mind-set of The Church. He answers a lot of questions I was poorly asking in an earlier blog you can read here…http://jc-wheniwasaboy.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html.

So, if you are disenchanted with The Church or have left entirely, I am going to recommend you pick up a copy of Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith by Rob Bell. Does it have all the answers? No, but it asks questions you never thought of and answers some you are too afraid to voice.



Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Ringing the Bell

      I was looking back at some of my earlier posts on this blog, smiling at this, shaking my head at that and wondering how I could even publish some of those other things. Something all writers do. Well, not just writers, any creator looks back at his creation and sighs sometimes or laughs. “Wow, that didn’t turn out the way I expected.” Or maybe, “That looks better now than it did when I started.”

      When I was a boy, my father worked with his hands. He spent years working as a welder and craftsman at Murray’s Sheet metal shop in Parkersburg where his mates eventually made a little wand with a star on top that they gave him due to his wizardry with metal. It was made of stainless steel and rather heavy. I wonder what became of it? He had a unique way of seeing problems and often came up with surprising answers, which is why the really hard jobs came to him so often. He was a creator.

      When we boys were born, he decided he didn’t want to raise us in the pollution of the Ohio Valley, so we settled in the magick-heavy valley of Sinking Creek near Glenville. For awhile he continued to work at Murray’s, but the commute was too long and he felt like he was missing out on raising his sons and so, Chapman Sheet Metal was born.

      It was a small operation, dad and us boys really. But it put food on the table and kept us connected. Back then, air ducts for heating and air conditioning were made by hand at a metal brake. Bent to spec and installed by hand. Not cookie-cutter tubes that get tacked up in basements or slung thru attics. It was custom work. Individualized and special. It was an act of creation every time dad put in a furnace.

      Dad created tons of things: tall bikes, wench-powered cranes, an underground house, solar heating systems, a metal bed….one of mom’s least favorite things. His creations weren’t always pretty or even functional, but he never stopped making something. He always had an idea for how to make it better. Everything.

      He was a church leader, yet was for legalization of marijuana, quite the shocker during the 70’s. He thought the criminal element was worse than a few stoners eating pizza all night. He wanted to sing, but couldn’t carry a tune, so he worked like crazy at it. God bless JoAnn McHenry for her enormous patience. He knew, at an instinctive level, that The Church had gone wrong somewhere along the way and he applied all his work ethic and creativity to trying to fix Her.

      He wasn’t always right, but he was always sincere. Thousands of people came to know Christ thru his ministry. He touched the lives of people wherever he went with a message that was accessible to working men and professors. “Try to do just a little more next time” was one of his main themes. “If you can say ‘Pray for me’ in church, then next time say ‘Please, pray for me.’” He was joining a long line of theologians who saw that something was amiss and worked to advance The Church as best he knew how. Something more than simple human failings was to blame, in his mind. There was some fundamental flaw in modern Christian teachings.

      I think Earle Chapman would have liked Rob Bell.

      For those of you unfamiliar with Rob Bell, he is causing a bit of a stir. He has a few books out, most notably Velvet Elvis and Love Wins that re-examine current doctrine and teachings. He is looking for that fundamental flaw in The Church and stepping on some toes while doing it. He, like my father, is part of a long line of discussion that has shaped and formed the church for ages. He, like my father isn’t always right (ask mom about that clunker of a metal bed) but he seems sincere and asks questions no one else wants to answer. Earle and Rob wouldn’t have agreed on everything, but it seems to me they think the same way.

      I have only read thru the two books I mentioned earlier, just a single reading so far. I’m not buying his conclusions, but I’ll amen a lot of what he says about the love of God and the exclusion mind-set of The Church. He answers a lot of questions I was poorly asking in an earlier blog you can read here…http://jc-wheniwasaboy.blogspot.com/2010/07/for-love-of-god-usually-i-post-cute.html.


      So, if you are disenchanted with The Church or have left entirely, I am going to recommend you pick up a copy of Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith by Rob Bell. Does it have all the answers? No, but it asks questions you never thought of and answers some you are too afraid to voice.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBSr-2THXxQ&feature=related