Louisville

I traveled to Louisville, KY for business this week. As far as I know, Kentucky is famous for horse racing, chicken and whiskey. It wasn't race week, I can get KFC anywhere and I don't drink, so I was trying to find ways to entertain myself.

There was a play called "Fissures" that was being performed at a local theater, so I elected to do that. I didn't have high expectations. Louisville is not exactly Broadway, but it beat sitting by the indoor pool and reading.

The play was about reminiscence and memory. The acting was mediocre but the script was very impressive. The most powerful moment was when an actress gives this monologue about how she's stagnant and incapable of change. She sounded like an old woman set in her ways, or an Anne Rice vampire, or a mental patient. Later, the audience realizes that the actress is playing the memory of a man's dead wife. She's not able to change because she's this idealized recollection, not a real woman. It's the best moment in the play.

The picture is that of a heart-clogging sandwich called a "Hot Brown." They are a Louisville specialty and this is the original Hot Brown eaten at the Brown Hotel where the sandwich was invented. I took some hypertension medication before hand, just as a preventative. It's made of bread, cheese, turkey, cheese, bacon, cheese and parsley. Take that Crestor!

As an aside, the hotel I stayed in was haunted, but I didn't find out until I was checking out! Had I known that going in, I would have asked for the most haunted room. Spooky!

Dogs and the blind dream in scent.

A group of us are going out for lunch. The elevator I'm in stops and a young blind woman walks in. The door closes and she says, "I know you're here. I can smell you."

"I never know how much of that stuff to put on. I can't smell it myself."

"Funny I didn't hear you, not even your breathing."

"I get that a lot."

We both get off at the restaurant level and I'm early (like always). The blind woman is by herself and I agree to sit with her awhile. We talk about the solitude and sleep of the sightless. You catch my eye and wave me over. I excuse myself and you're upset. You tell me everyone's waiting. They can't order until I join you.

I know you're right. "I'll say goodbye to that woman, tell her you're here and I that need to go."

"No, you need to come NOW." You're strangly insistent. Our eyes meet and they're not your own.

I give you the smile I always do; I touch the back of your hand. "You're a dream."

Not all saints were celibate

"Do we not have the right to be accompanied by a believing wife, as do the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas?" 1Cor. 9:5

Mystery surrounds the wives of the "apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas." Even church tradition is strangely silent about them and their roles. More than revealing perceptions about womens' role in ministry in the early church, I want to know about human relationships with an apostle.

I'm most curious about the wife of Cephas. We know Peter as headstrong and impulsive, emotional and expressive. He was an act-before-you-think-because-doing-something-wrong-is-better-than-doing-nothing-at-all kind of guy. Like we tend to do, I'd guess his choice in a mate would have similar values ("accompanied by a believing wife") but of opposite personality. In my imagination, she is practical, reserved, deliberate and considers all forseeable outcomes before making a decision.

I understand that Scripture's primary concern is about my relationship with God and my responsiblities in that relationship, but I would have liked to see an apostolic marriage. I can hear her say:

"God isn't angry and Satan isn't attacking us; it's just bad luck."

"How can you preach about temperance and be so angry with me, you hypocrite?"

"You can't just tell them how it's got to be, try and sympathize. This is completely different for them."

"I don't want to move again. I don't make friends as easy as you."

"Just stop and think for a minute or you're going to get us both crucified!"

"Paul's not your enemy. He's only saying what he believes is right...and he might have a point."

"I love Him too. He saved my mother. But can you please forget Him for a minute and think about us?"