bierkergaard

IF all goes according to plan, THEN I will be in Taos, New Mexico in 24 hours. Sleeping in a bed at an artsy Bed and Breakfast. I am a big Travelocity user. Put in the dates, check flights, select flight, check lodging, get lodging, check cars, get a car. Pull out credit card and pay for it all. Easy to plan. Oh those easy IFs, they haunt us. After I get back from Taos, I have 2.5 days back here in Molumbia, then I head to Philly to fly to the Philippines for my best friend's wedding. We started out playing ping-pong together at Millersville University over three decades ago. Since then we have been whopped around by the paddles of Providence, us ping-pong balls. I suppose my road has been harder, but who really can tell that in the end. Providence is a term used in Christian theology that speaks of God' s ultimate control over everything for His purposes. It differs from God's ethical will as expressed in the Ten Commandments which is known. Providence is instead u

* My illustrious Craft Beer Christmas Tree. Could only work in a mid-brow neighborhood! A few years ago when going through the most recent shipwreck in my life (I have had a few) I wanted to swim away from the wreckage. To get the flock out my circumstances. Returning to my previous townhouse felt like defeat writ large. I was a second away from buying a townhome in Lancaster City for $185K. I could live in the city rather than the beat-up 'burbs where my current townhouse is situated. I'd be cosmopolitan, sort-of (as cosmopolitan as Lancaster can be). And, about a 100K poorer. As I looked at the contract from the real estate agent, I had an epiphany of sorts. Besides the upgrades in locale, appliances, and accouterments, my present townhouse and the townhouse to-be were essentially the same functionally. I liked the idea of living in the city but also worried that it would be easier to spend money wining and dining. I'd be a short walk-away from a lot of opportuniti

Yesterday, I spent about six hours working on an essay about Elmwood Avenue in Buffalo. It is freely chosen work. Even though it is not easy to write in a way, I do like writing. Shoot, I have been writing Bierkergaard for a decade now....long after most of those who blogged at one time started, stopped, started, stopped.  Bierkergaard, est. 2007. Thinking about getting a tee-shirt made. I was talking to a couple of my students the other day and asked them if they thought being "smart was cool?" Or, maybe I phrased it like this, "Is it possible to be cool and smart?" Almost like a logic problem. The guys agreed that it was possible to be cool and smart, that it is not one or the other. I shared with them that on the whole I was a good to great student throughout my schooling--and I got better over time. And, I think most of my peers along the way would have called me "cool." I was always a popular kid because I was an athlete yet my identity took a se

Sorry about not blogging last week. If you are reading this, you survived despite my absence. Good! If you didn't. SORRY! I don't mean to play my theological hand so bluntly; that people exist after they pass. For good of for ill.  No Nihilist am I.  Over the Thanksgiving Weekend Continuum (Thursday to Monday) I was visiting Niagara Falls (the Canadian side) and Buffalo, New York. Initially, I had planned to be in Buffalo only but part of my Fam planned to be in Niagara Falls for Thanksgiving Thursday, which as my brother reminded me several weeks ago, is not Thanksgiving in Canada. I think the "Eh?" nation is earlier in Oct/Nov. So, it wound up being serendipitous that the familial stars aligned. We went out for sushi and sake. On Friday morning early before crossing back into the States, I went for a run. The purpose of doing so was two-fold. One, to get some exercise and fresh air. Two, so that I could figure out how to get across the Rainbow Bridge back int

More @AndyRichter I have been followed by an ever-present amorphous sadness for almost my entire life. I am 51 yrs old. It varies in strength from a casual unresolvable suspicion that I will never find the joy that others do in a sunset, to the feeling that being dead might a respite and a kindness Cause he's still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest A place to rest his head in a song you'll regret Still you take him, Lord knows I don't want to compete Still I sleep in the very sheets he's been in Swallow him whole like a pill that makes you choke, steals your soul You have the nerve to look me in the eyes and lie Send him back, I won't share the trap that you have me in Is he still coming around like an injured bird needing a nest A place to rest his head in a song you'll regret Still you take him, Lord knows I don't want to compete Still I sleep in the very sheets he's been in. Dami

The abyss of our natures can only be filled by Christ - O. Chambers The younger girl killed in this story had attended our middle school in the District where I work. She hadn't befriended a lot of kids. Sounds like she was with us for a year and then moved elsewhere, back to the 'hood. Where she was murdered. Only a few kids saw me when they heard. One aspect of what made this so sad was that her death seemed be silenced by her lack of being known. She was with us and left. Not many memories of her remained. But for the kids who did know her, they cried out like Abel's blood from the ground.  She loved to sing according to her two best friends at our school. Her spilled blood laments. "I was somebody, I am not a statistic. I have a soul."       I have worked with teenagers for 30 years. I have earned the right to be heard and heeded. I know of what I speak and write. I have worked hard, studied hard, and sacrificed more than anyone would know to be in thi

Tuesday we had a Professional Development at work. Each quarter, several departments collectively provide breakfast for our colleagues. For the last 15 years or so, I have been bringing bagels. Being that I live in Central Pennsylvania, legit bagels are hard to find. Most of them are baked like bread, in the shape of a bagel but not made as a bagel should be. Simply, it should be boiled in water before baking. This process gives the bagel a crispy outside and a deliciously tender and chewy inside. And, the bagels go stale quick. Nothing better than a bagel freshly made. There is a place nearby that make bagels correctly. The downside is that the bagels are costly. Over a dollar a piece. I have stopped looking at the receipt and just hand over my credit card. I take one for the team and my colleagues appreciate it. Since I am a Central Pa. transplant, hailing from the Philly 'burbs, I am probably a bit more cosmopolitan than most in these parts. Essentially, I was raised in the

Hebrews 8:5 who serve the copy and shadow of the heavenly things, as Moses was divinely instructed when he was about to make the tabernacle. For He said, "See that you make all things according to the pattern shown you on the mountain." It is a rainy and cooler day here in Central Pennsylvania. It feels like Fall has finally taken hold. However, I am afraid that taking my air conditioner unit out of my bedroom window will tempt Mother Nature to re-up the summer dial of heat and thus sending us through another cycle of warm and even hot temps for a few days all over again. We have been dragged, like Gandalf in his battle against Balrog, back into the fires several time already. Eric the White? Removal. Reminds me of when my dad bought, for me, a 1972 Plymouth Valiant off a dead's man estate, the deceased being an old school Catholic--he had fixed several religious medallions to the the dashboard of the car. I was quite bemused that my dad, being an agnostic, didn

CAUTION: SPOILER ALERTS Well, today I finished reading the novel Moby Dick . I believe I began the book back in July 2017. I know I was reading it up in Lake Placid in mid-August but I think I had started before then. The Kindle App says that it takes about 13 hours total to read. I can't imagine reading it in a weekend though (13 hours worth, straight, no chaser). Better to bite off small pieces and chew.  Or sip, to continue the liquor allusion. I promised myself that I would read at least some of it every day and I think I did. Except a couple of days ago when the end of the book, like land, was in sight. The tide of the narrative would carry me to port at that point. Although I have read many books, it is pretty rare for me to read a novel. When I was a kid, I would read a novel that my parents would have on the bookshelf or maybe pick a book off another sibling. I recall reading the Stephen King novel The Dead Zone which I borrowed from my older brother. First and las

No, this blog post is not going to be about collegiate raucous and rowdy times down at Daytona Beach during Spring Break. It is about the my Honda Civic's trunk spring for the hatch coming undone. It was the second week of school. Things were still ramping up to cruising altitude. I was exhausted and not sleeping well. On one particularly hot and humid afternoon,  after picking up some groceries, my Civic's trunk would not close. It is the kind of malfunction that can be the straw that breaks the camel's back type of deal. Like, "Really, my trunk won't close?" It is not easy to come up with something to keep the trunk in place until it can get fixed. Plus, there is a trunk light that can drain the car battery if the trunk is not closed fully. I was tired and hot and thirsty and hungry. Plus, I was dressed in my work clothes. I did spot a cylindrical piece of plastic on the trunk's floor. Initially, I didn't connect that it was related to the tr

Last Saturday, I brewed my "Imperial Claus" beer. Brewing beer is in my Germanic DNA. My Grandfather helped design Coors, Budweiser, Hamms, and other breweries. We still have many of his architectural drawings. The Imperial Claus--I have a knack for naming beers--is an Imperial IPA. High ABV, high hoppy beer. I threw in a good amount of my homegrown hops into the brewpot in addition to the 3 hop pouches that came with the kit. The beer has an eerie green glow. Think Naughty & Nice, Santa with a Snape-like edge. I am usually not super-technical but when I brew, I ramp up whatever lab and quantitative skills I possess and muster my inner-scientist. Precision and cleanliness are critical in home-brewing. And since I am also cheap, nothing is worse than brewing a botched batch of beer. It is only at the end of the bottling process that one realizes that the kit was compromised along the way. After all of that work and fifty bucks, just to have a ruined run of beer. I

Every year, as the seasons change from Summer to Fall, I make an annual visit to that repository of theological tomes, Books-A-Million in York, or known loftily and perhaps sluggishly as BAM to purchase my new devotional for the next year. BAM has quite a sparse Christian section. Oh, there are plenty of religious books, but not much in those books. Popcorn, snacky-snacks, air. Last years devotional was decent. Not bad, not great. A bit naive. A recent entry of false prophets said that they could have good motives. Huh? Stuff like that. As mentioned the last couple of weeks, I have been on an unschismatic run recently of Catholic and Protestant translations of the Psalms. Last night's reading of Psalm 45 (Psalm 46 for non-Catholic translations) gave a great wording for a familiar verse, "Be empty and see that I am God." The Protestant translations use the word "Still" rather than "Empty." I rather like the usage of Empty. Empty just is more sta

Friday night I finally did the Slow-Ride in Lancaster. I have wanted to do it all Summer but one thing or another prevented me. Essentially, it is a herd of bicyclists riding together through town en masse, like a marauding horde, just genial. All ages and all types ride. It was fun and interesting. Not really much of a work-out but it is called "Slow-Ride" after all. We did some slow beer drinking afterwards. I am sure some of the drivers of cars were irritated that we took up the city roads. Yet, we had probably 60-70 bikers so majority-rules. I think we have all encountered sole or small groups of bicyclists who act as if they DO own the road, little fascists on wheels. It wasn't that. We did own the road one and two blocks at a time. Admittingly, drivers of cars generally need to be more cautious around bicyclists and give them the required four-feet of space. Bicyclists also need to use some common sense and get over to the side, ride single-file, and just not

Psalm 26 The L ORD  is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? The L ORD  is my life’s refuge; of whom should I be afraid?   (Catholic Domain Bible)  Because of  rising early during the week, I get up early on the weekends also. Sometimes I can get back to sleep, most of the time I can't. I envy those that have a weekend-setting for sleeping-in like the iPhone alarm setting. 5 days of up early means that Saturday and Sunday, I am getting up. Majority rules. I tend to be that way, on or off, up or down, black or white. So, I arise while it is still dark and begin the ritual of waking up, drinking some coffee, and letting the clouds of subconsciousness lift in the sun of wakefulness. The last couple of weeks I have also been lighting a candle in the living room. Its soft glow fits my progressive return to life. I think it must be my high church background of candles and incense as a kid at St. Monica's in Berwyn, Pa. I don't think the material world is sacred

Galatians 5:1 Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage. About a year ago, I decided to move most of my fitness to the morning before work. Since then, I have been pretty consistent with lifting three days, riding the exercise bike three days, and then taking a day off. My morning routine is timed to be like clockwork. Up at 5:00, breakfast until 5:20. Devotional reading from 5:20-5:30. Reflection until 5:40. Work-out from 5:45 to 6:05. Shower, dress, and out the door by 6:45. Work by 7:15. I also do assorted aerobic activities such as biking, running, and kayaking, in substitute or in addition to the exercise bike, usually though in the PM. It is one of those paradoxes that discipline gives freedom. I don't spend a lot of time hemming and hawing about my morning routine. I follow the path and remove it from consideration. When I used to work-out at night, I typically would spend a large amou

Returned today from my Dad's Cabin up in the woods near the Lake. Labor Day Weekend has become the time to celebrate the German culture of the campground, as the Cabin is part of a larger collection of Cabins that were first purchased by our families over 50 years ago. My Grandparents bought their Cabin in the late 50's/early 60's sometime and I have been visiting for close to 50 years. Going to the Cabin over Labor Day has become a tradition. The celebration is an Oktoberfest of sorts (minus the oom-pah-pah music) with the requisite German food and beer. I like to hang out with my Dad and shoot the breeze. I also get to see some of my Cousins and my Uncle. I always shake my head about how fast time flies, since the Cabin celebration is the annual bookend of the summer. Another 365 chapters as days read. Or are days pages? Hmmm. The days and nights are turning cooler and the Cabin. being further North, is a premonition of sorts in regards to the weather changing. Goo

Until I was well into my 30's, did I learn to start to cook. Until then, in my adult life, I had pretty much subsisted on oatmeal, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the school lunch where I work, and spaghetti, with the occasional eggs over the weekend. I took the obligatory vitamin to cover the bases. Oh yeah, I could make toast also. In preparation for Y2K, I had stocked-piled about 30 canisters of oats, which to my credit, I ate every last bite of, several years past the expiration dates. The Indians saved our bacon regarding Y2K. We were closer to a meltdown than we thought. They still knew the older programming coding and were willing  to work cheap. A transatlantic cable allowing a lot of data to flow between our two countries had been connected a couple of years before. A close call. With the oatmeal, I envisioned myself as some neighborhood Joseph, parceling out the grains to emaciated and grateful neighbors, me becoming mayor of Columbia or something in the end.  

When I worked with urban youth almost three decades ago, there was a retaliatory retort that the kids used to warn others of impending escalation if the offending party didn't back off: "Get Out Of My Grill."   Translation: Get out of my face...I suppose it comes from getting too close to a car's chassis or something automotive or it could be dental as in teeth (grill is the teeth, particularly if the teeth are adorned with shiny metallic materials). Rappers sometimes have a mouth of precious metals on their front teeth. YEAH, BOY! The last week's tumult arising out of the Charlottesville, Virginia marches by neo-Nazis, Fascist, Confederate lovers to one degree or another, and the counter-protesters, were up in the nation's grill. Social Media sparked outrage on all sides. I have continued to Unfollow people this week. I don't have time to deal with apologists for the Southern Rebellion. Also, if there is one group that is easy to disdain openly, outs