The Edinboro University Sports Dome is now up. This picture shows the dome nearly inflated. No other structure has changed the campus view as dramatically. Notice, for instance, that McComb Fieldhouse is not visible.
Random thoughts about many interests and people, with a realization of the blessings of life. I try to follow my mother's advice, don't discuss politics or religion.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Edinboro Sports Dome 2
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The Edinboro University Sports Dome is now up. This picture shows the dome nearly inflated. No other structure has changed the campus view as dramatically. Notice, for instance, that McComb Fieldhouse is not visible.
The Edinboro University Sports Dome is now up. This picture shows the dome nearly inflated. No other structure has changed the campus view as dramatically. Notice, for instance, that McComb Fieldhouse is not visible.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Edinboro Sports Dome
The Edinboro University Dome, an athletic complex, is in the final stage of construction and the first stage of positioning the inflatable dome.
Broadway Billboard
As an old drama teacher, I couldn't resist using the Broadway Billboard and our Nutcracker to make a holiday greeting.
Used a flirkr toy
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Death: Being and Not Being
Mozart wrote the Requiem (at least the part he was able to complete) on his deathbed. He died young, but his life's work has remained ageless. Even the rumors surrounding his death remain vibrant. Mozart has achieved a type of immortality, yet his corporal body and essential self is no more. He met our inevitable end.
Religion has offered hope to many in the form of an afterlife. At a recent Memorial Service I attended, the speaker depicted the type of heaven I'd appreciate. In his Heaven we return to our most beautiful state and no longer suffer pain, crippling, or any other malady, and we will be greeted by our most beloved ones who have already passed on to Heavenly life. The reward for our earthly suffering and good works will be eternal bliss.
Faith and belief are critical to heavenly reward. Yet, in our day of evangelical extremism, factious Christianity, Islamic jihad, and irrational defense of god's will, it is difficult to have faith and belief in the God(s) of World Religions, after all, He seems at war with himself.
If God wants us all to be saved, why would He create diverse major religions with further divisive sub categories, with each claiming to be the one true religion? The claim that God acts in mysterious ways is not good enough.
Furthermore, why create an afterlife pictured much as we know material existence, but honed to a paradise unrealized on earth? Heaven is hope that the irrational suffering humans undergo will be erased, and that eternity will be joyful. Death becomes desirable.
Existentialism, following the irrationality of the Second World War, held a view that god, for all practical purposes, was dead. Hope of life beyond this worldly sphere also died.
What is the truth? Is there life after death? If so, what is it like? The ancient depictions of Heaven no longer ring with truth or self-evidence. The modern depiction of a self created Hell on Earth, is self-evident, but contains little hope or an imaginative, yet realistic, depiction of afterlife. Modernity leaves us with Being and Non-Being.
Shakespeare's Hamlet contemplated Being or Not Being, and gave us rational fear of death, “What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil?” While worms crawl about our skull, our soul may be caught in an eternal nightmare. This is an undesirable death.
Well, we can say with certainty that our body will decay and become part of the earth and, thereby, continue within the framework of this vast, unknown universal body called the cosmos, to live. That great lives and souls such as Mozart and Shakespeare will continue to live in the hearts and minds of people as long as our civilization exists. That we, for good or ill, will be remembered by our friends and family, and, hopefully, some of the best of our nature will nurture our children and be passed on to their children, and their children's children. Our body's will rot, but our lives do impact the future. Neither desirable nor undesirable, Death is inevitable.
Religion has offered hope to many in the form of an afterlife. At a recent Memorial Service I attended, the speaker depicted the type of heaven I'd appreciate. In his Heaven we return to our most beautiful state and no longer suffer pain, crippling, or any other malady, and we will be greeted by our most beloved ones who have already passed on to Heavenly life. The reward for our earthly suffering and good works will be eternal bliss.
Faith and belief are critical to heavenly reward. Yet, in our day of evangelical extremism, factious Christianity, Islamic jihad, and irrational defense of god's will, it is difficult to have faith and belief in the God(s) of World Religions, after all, He seems at war with himself.
If God wants us all to be saved, why would He create diverse major religions with further divisive sub categories, with each claiming to be the one true religion? The claim that God acts in mysterious ways is not good enough.
Furthermore, why create an afterlife pictured much as we know material existence, but honed to a paradise unrealized on earth? Heaven is hope that the irrational suffering humans undergo will be erased, and that eternity will be joyful. Death becomes desirable.
Existentialism, following the irrationality of the Second World War, held a view that god, for all practical purposes, was dead. Hope of life beyond this worldly sphere also died.
What is the truth? Is there life after death? If so, what is it like? The ancient depictions of Heaven no longer ring with truth or self-evidence. The modern depiction of a self created Hell on Earth, is self-evident, but contains little hope or an imaginative, yet realistic, depiction of afterlife. Modernity leaves us with Being and Non-Being.
Shakespeare's Hamlet contemplated Being or Not Being, and gave us rational fear of death, “What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil?” While worms crawl about our skull, our soul may be caught in an eternal nightmare. This is an undesirable death.
Well, we can say with certainty that our body will decay and become part of the earth and, thereby, continue within the framework of this vast, unknown universal body called the cosmos, to live. That great lives and souls such as Mozart and Shakespeare will continue to live in the hearts and minds of people as long as our civilization exists. That we, for good or ill, will be remembered by our friends and family, and, hopefully, some of the best of our nature will nurture our children and be passed on to their children, and their children's children. Our body's will rot, but our lives do impact the future. Neither desirable nor undesirable, Death is inevitable.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Thanksgiving 2008
Made the Thanksgiving photo for last year, but it still works. I put the wrong date in last year!
I am once again looking forward to our family gathering. My daughter will be traveling the farthest. She is coming in from South Carolina. May she have a safe journey, and may we all be thankful for what we have, especially good health, a warm home, and family.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Gudgeonville Bridge Arson
A picturesque piece of history in nearby Girard, Pa, was set on fire early last Saturday morning. A covered bridge built in 1837 
was destroyed by unknown arsonists in 2008. The Gudgeonville Bridge had a colorful history, a romantic past, and a troubled present, but now it is ashes and charred timber.
In an area like Northwestern Pennsylvania it became essential to have bridges for farmers, merchants, and travelers to cross the numerous creeks and streams. In the early nineteenth century hardwood was plentiful, so wood was a relatively inexpensive and available material for bridge construction. Wooden bridges last much longer if they are covered with sides and a roof, additions especially helpful in the ice and snow of our area. Moreover, the cover of the bridge could serve travelers during a storm, and it is said that horses shied from crossing open bridges above streams.
Back in 1855 a Kentuckian traveling the area with mule and wagon was selling goods in Girard. His business completed, he wanted to take his wagon of merchandise to Meadville. He was given directions that would take him over a portion of Elk Creek that was an adjunct part of the Erie Canal. The Kentuckian traveler and his mule, Gudgeon, had to cross the creek over a steep outcropping of shale
known as the Devil’s Elbow near an unnamed settlement. But as fate would have it, just as the homesick mule was about to step onto the bridge, Dan Rice, the famous clown, and his circus were returning home to Girard for the winter. On board a barge, the calliope player struck up the rapturous strains of, “My Old Kentucky Home.” Upon hearing the sudden and cacophonic sounds of the calliope playing a tune in homage of his home state, Gudgeon bolted and collapsed. The old mule died on the bridge.
The Kentucky traveler saddened by the loss of his friend and mule buried his faithful companion near the bridge and placed sign’s at either end of the bridge proclaiming, “Gudgeon’s Bridge.” And thus is how the area became known as Gudgeonville.
An era ends.
was destroyed by unknown arsonists in 2008. The Gudgeonville Bridge had a colorful history, a romantic past, and a troubled present, but now it is ashes and charred timber. In an area like Northwestern Pennsylvania it became essential to have bridges for farmers, merchants, and travelers to cross the numerous creeks and streams. In the early nineteenth century hardwood was plentiful, so wood was a relatively inexpensive and available material for bridge construction. Wooden bridges last much longer if they are covered with sides and a roof, additions especially helpful in the ice and snow of our area. Moreover, the cover of the bridge could serve travelers during a storm, and it is said that horses shied from crossing open bridges above streams.
Back in 1855 a Kentuckian traveling the area with mule and wagon was selling goods in Girard. His business completed, he wanted to take his wagon of merchandise to Meadville. He was given directions that would take him over a portion of Elk Creek that was an adjunct part of the Erie Canal. The Kentuckian traveler and his mule, Gudgeon, had to cross the creek over a steep outcropping of shale
known as the Devil’s Elbow near an unnamed settlement. But as fate would have it, just as the homesick mule was about to step onto the bridge, Dan Rice, the famous clown, and his circus were returning home to Girard for the winter. On board a barge, the calliope player struck up the rapturous strains of, “My Old Kentucky Home.” Upon hearing the sudden and cacophonic sounds of the calliope playing a tune in homage of his home state, Gudgeon bolted and collapsed. The old mule died on the bridge.The Kentucky traveler saddened by the loss of his friend and mule buried his faithful companion near the bridge and placed sign’s at either end of the bridge proclaiming, “Gudgeon’s Bridge.” And thus is how the area became known as Gudgeonville.
An era ends.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Trip to Greeleyville
My wife and I recently returned from a 12 day trip to visit our daughter in Greeleyville, South Carolina, where she is now living. So, it was with some interest that we observed the location of less than 500 inhabitants.
Fortunately, for us, in the late afternoon of the day we arrived, Greeleyville was alive with the annual Homecoming Parade. Main street was lined with nearly every citizen of the community watching the parade consisting of floats nicely decorated by a local company, marching units, small bands, loud drums, and cars with local queens and kings riding on the hoods, waving in a majestic manner. The Greeleyville High School Band consisted of approximately five instrumentalists and a drum line. In fact, for most of the bands that participated, the drum line and high stepping marchers were the chief features. The crowd was enthusiastic about the local entertainment, and true to small town tradition, candy thrown from the vehicles was a favorite of the children. Food vendors featured roast pig, chicken, and hot dogs.
On Saturday we took a trip to Kingstree, capitol of Williamsburg County, for a Pig Pickin’ Festival. Pig pickin‘, for the uninitiated, is a pig roast. The festival featured row after row of roasting pigs and secret methods of cooking them. We favored those cooked over Black Oak. A carnival atmosphere prevailed with rides and booths, but the main attraction was food, and nearly everyone we saw was eating.
Cotton fields are plentiful. The tobacco crop was recently harvested. Rows of pine trees guard the fields. I enjoyed seeing the Southern Oak resplendent in Spanish moss, a truly southern touch.
When we went to nearly Lake Marion, a reservoir that makes the largest lake in South Carolina, I learned the secret of catching large “cats,” catfish being a local favorite of fishermen.
Southern hospitality is still alive and well. The people we met were friendly. Twice as we were on our daily walk on little traveled Burgess Rd., guys in pickup trucks asked if we needed a ride to town, and nearly everyone who passed gave us a sociable wave.
I am happy to know that my daughter is living in a pleasant, friendly community.
Fortunately, for us, in the late afternoon of the day we arrived, Greeleyville was alive with the annual Homecoming Parade. Main street was lined with nearly every citizen of the community watching the parade consisting of floats nicely decorated by a local company, marching units, small bands, loud drums, and cars with local queens and kings riding on the hoods, waving in a majestic manner. The Greeleyville High School Band consisted of approximately five instrumentalists and a drum line. In fact, for most of the bands that participated, the drum line and high stepping marchers were the chief features. The crowd was enthusiastic about the local entertainment, and true to small town tradition, candy thrown from the vehicles was a favorite of the children. Food vendors featured roast pig, chicken, and hot dogs.
On Saturday we took a trip to Kingstree, capitol of Williamsburg County, for a Pig Pickin’ Festival. Pig pickin‘, for the uninitiated, is a pig roast. The festival featured row after row of roasting pigs and secret methods of cooking them. We favored those cooked over Black Oak. A carnival atmosphere prevailed with rides and booths, but the main attraction was food, and nearly everyone we saw was eating.
Cotton fields are plentiful. The tobacco crop was recently harvested. Rows of pine trees guard the fields. I enjoyed seeing the Southern Oak resplendent in Spanish moss, a truly southern touch.
When we went to nearly Lake Marion, a reservoir that makes the largest lake in South Carolina, I learned the secret of catching large “cats,” catfish being a local favorite of fishermen. Southern hospitality is still alive and well. The people we met were friendly. Twice as we were on our daily walk on little traveled Burgess Rd., guys in pickup trucks asked if we needed a ride to town, and nearly everyone who passed gave us a sociable wave.
I am happy to know that my daughter is living in a pleasant, friendly community.
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