Yesterday in Church, toward the end of the service, came the usual announcements. Except they weren't just the usual announcements of groups that would be meeting that week and calls for sign up for various things. This week our pastor was pleased to announce that the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, my own particular brand of Lutheran) had chosen as the presiding Bishop of our Church, our denomination, a woman, Elizabeth Eaton.
Okay, now I was sitting up straight and listening with really full attention. While the ELCA has had women pastors and local bishops for some time now, selecting a woman to run the whole thing and to speak for us as a group -- well, it's kind of like the Berlin Wall falling. To hear that she was Harvard trained, which means she may have known Krister Stendhal, the head of the Harvard Divinity School who attended the church I went to in Cambridge during my Harvard days, that was icing on the cake. Change and tradition both.
But Pastor wasn't finished yet. Not only had my church put a woman in charge, it had passed -- by overwhelming votes -- a series of resolutions calling on member churches and their members to advocate for gun control measures that would require universal background checks, measures to stop gun trafficking and require reporting of lost or stolen guns, and measures that sought support for same gender couples and their families and measures that sought comprehensive immigration reform with a path to residency and citizenship. Way to go, folks.
This is most certainly not the conservative Lutheran Church I grew up in and I am so glad of it. We've come a long way, baby. As our pastor said with a big grin on her face, We rock!!
Monday, August 19, 2013
Saturday, August 10, 2013
End of a Time Warp
Tomorrow is the last day for Quinn's. Truly the end of an era. Or as I prefer to call it, a time warp.
Quinn's is a restaurant in Beacon, NY. Walking into it was like stepping back into the 50s or 60s. Classic diner configuration with booths and a counter and the colors were the reds, browns and creams that go with that.
I was introduced to Quinn's shortly after Kit and Nate moved to Beacon and it became our go to place for breakfast or anything else that came close to that time frame. It was the place where all the real locals hung out, young and old alike, talking, reading newspapers and solving all the problems of their worlds. Kids were welcome and I believe we were still counting Fiona's age in days when she first went there. Of course, she and we all kept coming back. As she grew up she met everyone there. When she began her studies of the counter stools and how they revolve, she would work her way methodically down the row, spinning each and every one. Patrons who were seated would even get up to let her test out their stool and its ability to spin.
When Sandy was on her way and there was talk of closing the bridges in the area, I abandoned Long Island and headed for Beacon and Quinn's because Quinn's had a tradition of staying open no matter what. Whatever the storm, the snow, even the hurricane, Quinn's was open for those who were out dealing with the storm or were out of electricity or supplies or anything else for that matter. Quinn's was sort of like the little engine that could. I wound up staying for the 10 days it took LIPA to get my electricity back, so I had a good few occasions to stop by Quinn's. The day I walked in and our favorite waitress said: You don't need a menu, do you? I felt like I'd become an honorary local.
Yesterday morning, Kit and I had planned a last visit to Quinn's. It worked out to be after a music class for Fiona and several other toddlers. We had planned to meet one other mother and kid at the restaurant, but before we knew it the whole class of kids and mothers were coming too. Even the teacher came. And a couple of fathers refused to be left out and also joined in. Typical Beacon. Typical Quinn's. Need I say that it was great and a good time was had by all?
I will miss the pancakes (too many sorts and varieties to mention), the homemade bread and the French toast it became, the endless coffee, the memories of the talks and the celebrations, the wonderful assortment of folks you could find at Quinn's on any given day, but most of all I'm going to miss our waitress who made sure I knew where the polling place was so I could get my vote in despite Sandy and the amazing owner and cook who needed to check to see if I really liked the cheddar and sausage pancakes. Yes, ma'am, I really, really liked them.
Quinn's is a restaurant in Beacon, NY. Walking into it was like stepping back into the 50s or 60s. Classic diner configuration with booths and a counter and the colors were the reds, browns and creams that go with that.
I was introduced to Quinn's shortly after Kit and Nate moved to Beacon and it became our go to place for breakfast or anything else that came close to that time frame. It was the place where all the real locals hung out, young and old alike, talking, reading newspapers and solving all the problems of their worlds. Kids were welcome and I believe we were still counting Fiona's age in days when she first went there. Of course, she and we all kept coming back. As she grew up she met everyone there. When she began her studies of the counter stools and how they revolve, she would work her way methodically down the row, spinning each and every one. Patrons who were seated would even get up to let her test out their stool and its ability to spin.
When Sandy was on her way and there was talk of closing the bridges in the area, I abandoned Long Island and headed for Beacon and Quinn's because Quinn's had a tradition of staying open no matter what. Whatever the storm, the snow, even the hurricane, Quinn's was open for those who were out dealing with the storm or were out of electricity or supplies or anything else for that matter. Quinn's was sort of like the little engine that could. I wound up staying for the 10 days it took LIPA to get my electricity back, so I had a good few occasions to stop by Quinn's. The day I walked in and our favorite waitress said: You don't need a menu, do you? I felt like I'd become an honorary local.
Yesterday morning, Kit and I had planned a last visit to Quinn's. It worked out to be after a music class for Fiona and several other toddlers. We had planned to meet one other mother and kid at the restaurant, but before we knew it the whole class of kids and mothers were coming too. Even the teacher came. And a couple of fathers refused to be left out and also joined in. Typical Beacon. Typical Quinn's. Need I say that it was great and a good time was had by all?
I will miss the pancakes (too many sorts and varieties to mention), the homemade bread and the French toast it became, the endless coffee, the memories of the talks and the celebrations, the wonderful assortment of folks you could find at Quinn's on any given day, but most of all I'm going to miss our waitress who made sure I knew where the polling place was so I could get my vote in despite Sandy and the amazing owner and cook who needed to check to see if I really liked the cheddar and sausage pancakes. Yes, ma'am, I really, really liked them.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Finally
It took several more days to finish all the nits and nats and to cart off the debris but at long last the repairs
and/or renovations to the Amagansett house are done. I am reveling in not having workmen in and out of the house and, perhaps most of all, not having to get people back to complete anything more. Actually, I am only complaining about the inevitable side effects of having work done on a house. They did a good job as far as I can see. I am sure that - now that I've said that -- the next person in the door will point out something that I overlooked. I guess that's what handymen are for. Now if only I could find one. Just in case, you understand.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)