Michigan Muse

Friday, December 6, 2019

Ethereal Peace
Original Piano Peace

Saturday, February 14, 2015

My Father was born 100 years ago today.

My Parents

Saturday, March 8, 2014

My Mother's 99th Birthday

Ninety-nine years ago today, March 8, 1915, my mother Evelyn Elliott Davis was born the second of 9 children to Charles David Elliott, Sr. and Mae Neighbors Elliott. Her older sister had been born exactly a year before on March 8, 1914. My mother was a wonderful woman and I still miss her.

Monday, December 30, 2013

Sledding with the Boys

December 28, 2013

Our younger son called mid-morning to ask if his two sons could come over "for a while" since they all had been cooped up for days since the ice storm hit our area before Christmas. The county has been under a state of emergency and the temperatures have been well below freezing. The wind chill factored in made it feel like zero degrees F. However, today the temp was 43 degrees with full sun all day. I told my son to bring the boys over in the early afternoon but make sure they brought their snow pants and boots.

The grandsons arrived promptly at 1:15 p.m. I told them to go in the house and greet Grandy and have her help them put on their snow gear. I had a few things I had to finish up in the garage while there was a break in the weather. When the boys came out of the house all zipped up and ready to play in the snow, I told them that I would take them sledding on the hills near our house as soon as I finished up in the garage. They would know to stop playing as soon as they saw me head toward the river.
The magic moment arrived and the older called to the younger, "Brother, Papa is heading for the river. Get your sled." The two boys kept up with me as they walked through the deep, and ice covered snow. This was perfect snow for rocket-paced sledding. We got permission to sled on the neighbor's hills and off we went.

I first lectured them to avoid all the downed limbs and eye-gouging sticks and reminded them how to fall off the sled to stop it in case their sleds went past the danger marker which announced there were only 75 feet before the property met the river bank. The boys prepared their sledding lanes by ridding the paths of sticks and limbs. Then they dragged their sleds over the frozen snow to give the terrain a gentle packing before the maiden voyage. One last question came from the older boy. "Papa, are you going to sled with us?" I told him that I would be just the referee since a man my age should NOT be sledding especially since I had made a vow 10 winters ago not ever to sled again. I had foolishly gone berserk, sledding with my wife's brother's family when they had visited in '04. I ended up down in the back for 8 weeks. No sir, there was no way I would put my body on a sled after the pain and agony I went through the last time.

Away they went having a hilarious time solo sledding, tandem sledding, and two on one sledding. I laughed my head off to see them tumble head over heels as the sled came to an abrupt stop or the spinning of two sleds in tandem which usually dumped them pell-mell into the deep snow. The testosterone laced yells of triumph after an especially good ride and the high fives that began the ascent back up the steep hills for another go at it were signs that the boys were on their way to manhood.
I thought about getting my video camera from the house to record this great memory making time, but a video could never have caught the nuance of camaraderie and sheer pleasure and fun the boys were having.

When the older grandson (age 7) suggested to the younger boy (age 4) that he should come and join him in a two-man luge, the younger said he was afraid to do that. The older boy retorted, "Brother, you are not going to be a wuss about this, are you? You got to be a man about some things in life and this is one of them." I could hardly contain my laughter at this remark. Finally, the younger boy got in the sled with his brother and the rest is history. They spent the rest of the time together on one sled.

Near the end of the session as they toiled up the hill and sat down to rest for a moment, I told the grandsons that Papa was going to give it a try. Of course, they warned me about what I said earlier about my last time sledding. I told them that one time wasn't going to hurt me. They watched me with wide eyes and some disbelief as I hauled my body into the sled and lay back for the big ride. I flew down the hill so fast that at the point where the terrain flattens out and heads toward the river, I could tell that if I didn't maneuver slightly to the left I would end up in the river. I made the left adjustment and headed straight toward an extensive briar entanglement near the edge of the woods. I hung my feet over the edge and dug my heels into the snow and averted a prickly conclusion to an awesome sled run.

Over my shoulder I heard the older boy call out, "Papa, are you OK?" I reassured him that I was fine. He replied,"I'm sure that when I tell Grandy she is going to be glad, too. Also, do you think this is a first?" I wasn't sure what he meant and asked him to explain. He said, "I mean, Papa, do you think this is a first for a man your age to ride a sled down such a steep hill." I told him that I didn't know but I'm sure there were men almost 70 years old who would be foolish like I was today. We laughed together as we climbed the hills going back to our house. Of course, the lingering question was, "Papa, can we do this again tomorrow?" I told them if their mom and dad said it was OK and Grandy wasn't too upset with Papa that we could do it again tomorrow.

The jury is still out regarding how Papa will feel in the morning, but he did take a precautionary soak in the soaker tub tonight to ameliorate any possible damage.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Reflections on Mark 4:26-41

We were reading in Mark 4 this morning the passages where Jesus tells various “seed parables.” Right after those parables, Jesus tells the disciples that they should go over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Several boats go with them and then the storm descends upon them.

In the first part, Jesus talks about seed being planted by the farmer, yet, as the farmer sleeps and arises each day, he knows very well that he has nothing to do with the germination of the seed and its subsequent growth from seedling, to stalk, to budding ear of corn, to full grown, ready-to-harvest corn. Afterwards, the parable of the mustard seed is told.

We realize in these two parables that there is more than one pitch in the musical chord that Jesus is “sounding” before his disciples. The obvious “pitch” in the chord is that seeds grow quietly and unobtrusively, but, over time, a plant develops that can be harvested. Other pitches in the “musical” chord of these parables, tell us in no uncertain terms that no matter the small and insignificant beginnings of a seed, no matter our lack of understanding of seed germination and growth, and no matter that we think it impossible for such insignificance and hidden progress, the truth is that God’s fulfillment of His will and purpose will happen in God’s timing. We must be watchful and alert and trust that small beginnings, small seeds, and hidden growth could be God’s way of affecting eternal purposes in our lives and the lives of those whom we love so dearly. I always like to say that God seems to bring about His will and purposes for us through the backdoor of our lives.

Secondly, the account of Jesus calming the storm begins with him falling asleep on a pillow as the disciples set sail to go over to the other side. When the storm bears down upon them with the real possibility of sinking the boat, the disciples panic and are even cross when they reprimand Jesus and ask Him about His lack of concern about the life threatening situation. The power of God is unleashed in Jesus to calm the storm. Note that in the story of Jonah, the storm subsides when Jonah is thrown into the sea as Jonah tries to find yet another way to escape his vocation. Jesus confronts the storm with the power of God coursing through every fiber of His being.

When the forces of evil are roused, angry and threatening, Jesus is so confident of God’s presence and power that he can fall asleep on a pillow. Jesus quizzically reverses the question to the disciples, “ Don’t you yet have faith?” Here is Jesus with the disciples, going about their business; here are the forces of evil (madmen shrieking in the synagogue, angry men plotting, powerful men capturing Jesus and putting him to death); here is Jesus, not now asleep on a pillow but slumped on the cross. We hear his voice: Why are you afraid? Don’t you believe: And on the third day the storm is still, the tomb is empty, and great fear comes upon them all. Who then is this? The same question that the disciples asked after Jesus calmed the storm.

Actually, if you sign on with Jesus for the kingdom of God, it will become your story whether you realize it, whether you like it, or not. Wind and storms will come your way. The power of evil was broken on the cross and in the empty tomb, but like people who have lost their cause and are now angry, that power has a shrill malevolence about it. Christians, the church as a whole, local churches here and there, individual Christian—can get hurt or even killed as a result.

Mark’s invitation to all of us is: OK, go on, wake Jesus up, pray to him in your fear and anger. And don’t be surprised when he turns to you, as the storm subsides in the background, and asks when you’re going to get some real faith.

Lord, may you teach me to rest with You on the pillow amidst the storm. May I ever thank you for the faith you give me which is really not faith in me but faith in your faith as the Son of the Living God.

(Insights gleaned and quoted from N. T. Wright’s commentary on the Gospel of Mark.)

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

An Ordinary Day

"Another day in the Life..."
This is the beginning of the 15,966th day in the married life of Davis and his wife. Five hundred and sixteen months ago we planned a simple wedding at 7 p.m. CDT. The day was to be routine with the fulfillment of classes at the university for me and private studio teaching for her. We decided to make the day as ordinary as possible, but the plan was to prepare for an extraordinary life of days together. At 7 p.m. our best man (the old man who was a mutual friend at 70 years old) rode with us to the Justice of Peace across the river. The JP and his wife and our friend were witnesses. The marriage vows were spoken and promised. And indeed, an extraordinary life began. The joys, the sorrows, the conflicts, the oneness, the disappointments, the sickness, the health, the commitment to the marriage, the personal failures, the treasures and dividends make this 15,966th day a day I can tell her what I told her on the 2nd day of marriage, "My Dear, I love you more today that I did yesterday."

Gratefully,
RED

Friday, February 1, 2013

“So that no man has reason to boast.”

We’re at table, and breakfast is concluded. I open the page to Matthew’s Gospel, Chapter 14:13-22. This is where we left off yesterday, and our anticipation of pondering yet another chunk of the first Gospel is heightened not because we didn’t know what was in the next few verses and were eager to find out. No, we had traveled these pages many times before—so many times we can’t remember the number. For good reason, the familiarity had not made another “routine” reading jaded with an attitude of “oh well, here it is again.” The running commentary by N. T. Wright has been captivating our hearts ever since we started this venture on January 1. How many times at the beginning of each year have we begun the awesome adventure and task of reading through the entire Bible—sometimes more than once in a year’s time. The adventure has always given us a fresh understanding of the amazing account of The Great Recue by the Great Rescuer whose name is whispered in all 39 books leading to the rescue. Then, his name is shouted from the roof tops in the remaining 27 books. This year, however, we chose (were led?) to read less but read deeply. We started with the Gospel of Matthew, the beginning of the New Covenant, and read slowly, pondering the text with the commentator’s skilled approach to bring an understanding of how the first century reader/hearer would have processed the documents. Incredible scholarship wrapped with a knowledge of koine Greek expounds the text in a fashion that more than holds one’s attention. Couple the scholarship and understanding of the common (not classical) Greek language of the first century with a pastoral compassion to make the texts accessible to Everyone and one is drawn into a deep unavoidable life changing experience.

Back to Chapter 14. Jesus is told of the brutal death of his cousin and colleague, John the Baptizer. The Forerunner is finally silenced by Herod-Antipas, the puppet “King” of Israel. Jesus immediately goes into the wilderness “to pray,” it says, but perhaps, even to mourn. The crowds who follow this young Rabbi find out where he is and encroach upon his solitude. His grief turns not into irritation or rebuke toward the crowd for interrupting his much needed time alone. It turns, however, into compassion for those seeking him. The disciples of Jesus suggest that he send the crowds away so they can get something to eat in the nearby villages. Jesus suggests that the disciples feed the crowd. We know the rest of the story, of course.

The disciples come up with a good idea ,with a hope to solve the dilemma; yet, Jesus throws a bigger challenge back to his disciples by telling them to feed the crowd with what they have on hand. Five loaves and two fish? “Master, what is this amongst so many?” They bring what they have to offer—inadequate, and certainly with no real possibility. Then, the Master takes the little and uses the measly offering to bring help and compassion to over 5,000 men plus the women and children!

A vocation with purpose and focus descends upon the disciples and descends upon the two sitting at the breakfast table. How can we do works like the Master? We have some good and even compassionate ideas, but we have so little to offer, so little that it really would have no effect. Yet, the Master suggests that we offer it and allow him to transform it into more than we could ever imagine.

At that moment, at the breakfast table, the weekly garbage collection begins on our street. We hear the beeping of the garbage truck as it backs down our one-way street. My wife and I look at each other as we recognize the familiar, weekly sound. Without uttering a word, we have the same question on our minds. “Will Norm the driver be by himself, again, this week? He only has an assistant when a holiday falls during the work week and two routes have to be done in one day to make up for the "day off." The temperature is in the single digits. The man does this for a living. He’s bundled up to meet the demands of extreme temperatures. Why do we even care? It’s his job. But, we know Norm, at least we have a small insight into his life. We give him Christmas and New Year gifts in appreciation for his faithful work. And, that’s not all. I even go out on many occasions to help throw the bags into the truck or assist if the pile of boxes is more than usual. He knows we care about him. Yet, tears stream down our faces as we wonder what more we can do as we see his hunched over appearance emerge from the truck cab and makes its way to the two cans on the curb. We stand at the window hoping he’ll look up so he can see our wave of greeting. But, he’s not used to turning his face to any house as he tries to meet the deadlines of his job. But, “Wait Norm?!” He climbs back into his truck and pulls away to continue his journey. We wave knowing that he won’t see us.

We go back to read the next chunk of text with its probing commentary. Our thoughts and our hearts are turning, We don’t have to say to each other that next week’s “pickup” will be different. It may be a small offering (only 5 loaves and 2 fish), but when Norm receives it our faith prompts us to believe that what we thought was impossible will exceed all possibilities, especially when we are not the ones giving. Our commitment is stronger not because of our own efforts, but because of His efforts working through us. “So that no man has reason to boast.”

Saturday, May 26, 2012

"Sweat in the Shoes"

Several years ago, after a long hiatus from public performances which were few and far between because of raising kids, working two jobs, etc., I was asked to play the pipe organ (my Masters Degree is in organ performance), in a shared concert with other local musicians. I felt like Bruce Jenner (Olympic gold medalist in the decathlon) coming back into the arena, yet, 40 pounds overweight. I practiced my tail off for a couple of months. My two pieces were a Mendelssohn organ sonata which had many technical difficulties, and the second piece was a prelude and fugue by J. S. Bach The Bach piece is one of the warhorse signature pieces that puts hair on your chest just thinking about playing it.
The week before the concert I bought a pair of new organ shoes (Capezio men's dance shoes with leather soles and leather heels) since my old pair were about worn out. At the last minute I decided not to wear the new ones since they had not been “broken in” by the time of the performance. Breaking in new organ shoes, yet, deciding to wear the old ones is like preferring to wear an old jockstrap that has been through the wash many times and fits comfortably instead of wearing a new one for that important game.

The pipe organ has such a majestic sound that I was asked to be last in the performance lineup. Thus, I had to wait through all the other performances before I appeared on stage. Your description of the healthy fear of dead lifts and the other physical and emotional things one has to do to prepare for the dead lift are very similar to the psychology and stamina of a musical performance. I mounted the organ bench and played the stew out of the Mendelssohn. Then, the Bach. I had done well with the first piece but I wasn't sure I would have the physical and psychological muscle to play the Bach. All of a sudden, deep in my spirit there was a welling up of confidence and the thought ran through my head, "Hey, these folks are lucky to hear me play." The opening notes of the prelude were sounded and I knew that I was committed to the race until the final note As the piece became more animated and complicated I realized how much I was enjoying the beauty of Bach's masterpiece. As I sailed into the final pedal solo cadenza, I imagined myself running into the Olympic stadium, the first place winner in the marathon.

The final chord throughout the church, and I jumped off the organ bench and pumped my fist into the air and said with a lusty growl "YES." I happened to experience much applause which was great, but the best thing was not the applause but that I had done it! As I walked back to the green room, I began to notice that something seemed wrong with my feet. I looked down and to my surprise, my old organ shoes (leather soles) were totally coming apart at the soles. My feet had perspired so profusely from all the energy I had expended to play that the soles of my shoes had become soggy, crumpled paper. My feet had even broken through the soles. I took the shoes off, threw them in the trash, and went home a happy man..

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Clipons or Self Tied

For all of us self-tie bow tie wearers:

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Organ Recital Music Online

Yesterday, I was able to convert some of my reel to reel degree recital music to CD format and then post several pieces from a recital I gave at Michigan State University, East Lansing, Michigan. That recital may seem vintage to some since it was recorded on Oct. 20, 1978. A couple of years ago, I began to transfer reel to reel and cassette tapes of my performances (organ) as well as my wife's performances (piano) to CD. I hope eventually to have all of our performances on CD as a gift to our children and grandchildren. We are in our late 60's but still play and perform regularly, perhaps not at the intensity in the days of our youth. Nonetheless, it has been exciting to "look back" and listen to performances in which we labored hours to perfect. The following 4 links will take you to 4 different organ pieces which I played as part of an organ degree program on Oct. 23, 1978--"back in the day", some would say.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed playing the pieces. Here are the links:

Prelude and Fugue in G major by J. S. Bach: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yT9XN1oILg

Paul Hindemith's Organ Sonata #1:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oj2NVOhzzbM

Cesar Franck's Chorale #1 in E Major: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qhosf52oiOM

Felix Mendelssohn's Organ Sonata #6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=APMip5KmzlY

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Tornado Damage in Tuscaloosa, Alabama April 27, 2011

Follow the link below to see pictures of tornado damage in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Two of my brothers' homes were destroyed.

Click:
Pictures of tornado damage.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

A Man's Shadow

“A man’s body size

does not determine

the size of the

shadow he casts upon

those around him.

What determines his real

size and shadow

is the angle

at which the Son

strikes him!”

©RED 1995

Friday, December 6, 2019

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Tuesday, April 16, 2013

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Friday, February 1, 2013

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

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