What I am discovering about being a social media consultant

You know, when I became a priest, I thought I would be spending most of my time in conversations with people and I found, to my surprise, that I spent most of my time at the computer.

When I became a social media consultant, I didn't think I'd be spending much time with people at all, but of course I realized that the people who needed my services were the people who weren't already using social media. What it means is that I spend much of my time either meeting with people, calling people, or making plans to meet with or call people.

At least it gets me out of the house!

Off to make a phone call...

Sunday Cuteness, August 28

Three photos of Harper and the saintly Andy that I hope will make you go awwww...

Black Diamond Mines

For the past month or so, we've been going out Saturday mornings to hike at the Black Diamond Mines Regional Preserve in Antioch with the dogs (Andrew and Harper, if you have not met them before). I had never heard of it, but it got a great write-up in the Dog Lover's Companion to California and so off we went.

What a fabulous place! It's part of the always wonderful East Bay Regional Park District, but it has a couple of unique features.

For instance: a cemetery! So you know I'm going to love that.

The Rose Hill Cemetery was located halfway between two small mining towns and is the final resting place for miners and their families. Many of the graves were vandalized, but the Park District is working to restore them. Here's the headstone for a not-quite-3-year-old child.

Being a mining community, you will not be surprised to hear there are also mine shafts you can see in the park where people used to mine coal and silica. There's a tour of one of the mines which sounds pretty interesting. Despite how the picture looks, this shaft is safely barred off.

To get to either of these, however, involves climbing hills. Lots and lots of hills. The trails are terrific, but did I mention hills?

In this picture, you can sort of see the cemetery on the other hill waaaaay over on the other side. It's the part with the smattering of trees. You know how I was able to get this picture? Climbing hills, that's how.

The great thing is, once you get to the top, the views are magnificent. And you feel like you've really earned it.

I apologize for spoiling the view.

Harper, however, thinks the very best thing is the horse trough waiting at the base of the trail.

Various and Sundry, August 26

So apparently today is Women's Equality Day. How nice. "Women now represent one in four state legislators, 17 members of the Senate, three justices on the Supreme Court, 74 generals in the armed forces, and seven Cabinet-level positions in the Obama Administration, according to [Secretary of Labor Hilda] Solis." Yeah, so that's equality right there, you betcha.

I thought this report on The Secret Life of Pronouns (yes, pronouns) was fascinating. As the researcher himself said,

"Never in a million years would I have thought that pronouns would be a worthwhile research topic. I ran study after study and initially found large and unexpected differences between people in their pronoun use. In hindsight, I think I ignored the findings because they didn't make sense. One day, I lined up about five experiments that I had conducted and every one revealed the same effects. It was that day that I finally admitted to myself that pronouns must be meaningful."

I liked this obituary for the Horror film writer Jimmy Sangster, largely because he seemed so sane. I mean, there are a lot of obituaries of sane people, but he just didn't seem to be a tortured artist in any way.

Asked by the Web site Hammer Graveyard what led him to the horror genre, he replied, “I wrote horror movies because it was my job,” adding, “So, when anyone asks me what were the influences that prompted me to be a ‘horror film’ writer, I tell them it was Wages!”

The title of his autobiography is Do You Want it Good or Tuesday? There's a realist for you.

At long last, we have learned the answer to why God doesn't answer prayer. It was, of course, the Bloggess who figured it out who, along with her sister, determined the other things God has to do with his time. Such as “Just because God doesn’t answer your prayers it doesn’t mean he’s not listening. It probably just means you’re boring. Maybe try incorporating car chases into your prayers. Or something with vampires. Vampires are really hot right now.” I'll be doing that.

Continuing on this religious note, in light of the recent earthquake damaging the National Cathedral, and the hurricane hurtling toward New York, I thought it would be worth passing on this Parish Emergency Planning Kit developed by the Diocese of Texas. It looks like a very useful resource. I encourage you to pass it along before the next earthquake. As well as including car chases in your prayers.

Harvard Beats Yale 29-29

So said the headline after the Ivy League match-up in November 1968. A Harvard grad who'd been there at the time made a documentary about it for the 40th anniversary and I had wanted to see it ever since. I finally got a chance a couple of days ago, and I'm very glad I did.

It's a very simple film: clips of the game are interspersed with clips of interviews with the men who'd played the game, now in their late 50's or early 60's, sitting in their kitchens or offices, pulling back the memories of that particular day. And they say things like, "I brought my girlfriend to campus...actually, I was dating Meryl Streep at the time."

But less interesting than the name-dropping to me was watching how this one rather insignificant event--a college football game--continued to color and inform these men's lives, and how vivid the memories still were for them.

And even though--even though it says right there in the title what happens, you still won't believe it's happening. It's still amazing to watch.

Do your best to get your hands on this. It's worth it.

Here's the website, and the trailer is below:

Monday Morning Preacher: Relying on memory

For the first time in simply aaaaages (well, actually since the 4th of July weekend), I didn't have to preach on Sunday, and it felt mighty good. I lounged around at home, reading a thriller, watching the A's game, paying bills, putzing around in the garden...just what the doctor ordered. If I were taking a doctor's advice, that is.

At any rate, I still thought about preaching when I saw this snippet on Andrew Sullivan's blog about how we remember.

Briefly put, the human brain is manifestly better at remembering images and spaces than it is at recalling numbers and letters. Cicero, then, counsels, “The best way to memorize a speech” is to “make one image for each major topic” and “place each of those images at a locus.” You might not easily remember every topic you need to cover in a speech, but you will, in all likelihood, effortlessly recall the layout of your childhood house. The task, then, is simply to build the speech into that house.

I'm going to have to remember that for my next sermon. I do pretty well from notes, but this might be very useful for getting away from notes entirely.

What techniques do you find useful for remembering what you want to say?

Sunday Funnies, August 21

This joke was posted as a comment in response to another Cajun salesman joke over at the MadPriest's blog. I thought this one deserved a wider audience. And the original joke some serious eye-rolling. h/t Hooper, whoever you may be.

So this Cajun guy used to work at a store in Louisiana, and he was a very faithful man who always took an opportunity to quote scripture when ringing up his customers. For example, if a child bought a stick of candy, he would say "Let the little ones come unto me." If a elderly couple came in for Geritol, he would say "Honor thy mother and thy father."

The owner of the store was always amazed that the Cajun salesman can think of an appropriate scripture in every single situaltion, and watches him closely to see if he ever fails.

One day, a rich Texas race horse owner pulls up in a stretch Cadillac towing a trailer with a thoroughbred on board. He comes in and says, "You folks here got a horse blanket?"

The Cajun man says. "Sure enough, we got'em, das for sure. Dey in de supply room, I'll go get you one"

Now, this store is only a little general store, and while they have horse blankets, they are all the same, just different colors. The Cajun man goes to the supply room, gets a blue blanket, and comes back.

"Dis here horse blanket will be 15 dollars, suh" Cajun man says.

The Texan says, "Son, that's not good enough, that there horse in that there trailer is Lightning Bolt, and he's gonna win the Loosiana Derby, and this here blanket ain't good enough for him. Go get a better blanket."

Cajun man thinks real hard, goes back to the supply room, and gets a green blanket, same kind, just a different color.

"Dis here a better blanket, gonna cost you 45 dollars" says Cajun man.

"That's still not good enough...what's your best blanket you got back there?" asks the Texan.

"Yessuh, I be right back, I garontee."

Cajun man comes back fronm the supply room with another 15 dollar blanket, this time a gold one.

"Dis here the best in the house, nothin'n but the finest for you and ol' Lihgtning Bolt. But, suh, I gotta tell you, it's gonna cost you 155 dollars, and dat don't include the tax, but it's the best in the house, dat's for sure..."

The Texan responds, "That's what I'm lookin' for, glad you found that for me, Lightning Bolt gonna look good with this here blanket, I'll take it!"

Cajun man goes over to the register... he pauses to think of a scripture verse appropriate for this scam... and his boss looks on as well... what will he say?

Cajun man looks up to the heavens, punches in the total with tax of 167 dollars, and as he rings up the sale, he speaks...

"He was a stranger, and I took him in!"