The month of November has flown by! And here, on the last day of the month we find the first day, for Christians, of Advent. As the years have gone by Christmas, which was always my favorite holiday has a child, has grown increasingly special. And Advent, this time of preparation and anticipation, is no doubt a part of that process.
Although this morning is grey and overcast, a week ago I was basking in the sun of Southern California. I was in San Diego, attending the American Academy of Religion's annual conference. The weather was great and the city was wonderful, the convention was also a great experience. I took part in a panel that focused on Disney (astute readers of this blog know that Book 5 is centering on just that topic), and I delivered a paper about Christmas at Disney (and said readers also know this is a topic I've discussed before as well). One of the points I raised was of the Osborne Family light show at Hollywood Studios. In the process of doing so, I talked about the Nativity set that kicks the display off. During the question and answer time, that topic came back up, and one of my co-panelists commented that she believed the Nativity to be something of an "afterthought."
I have thought about that comment quite a bit over the past week. And I have to respectfully disagree. First, for Christians, the Nativity is hardly an afterthought at all, but rather the center of the entire Christmas experience. Having one as part of the display, especially when one considers some of the light displays themselves, certainly makes a good deal of sense. But then there is a second reason: Disney doesn't really do "afterthoughts." Every portion of the parks are thought out, both in terms of design, as well as display and function. The Nativity is there because it is supposed to be there. And on this first Sunday of Advent, that idea should be front and center.
Coming home from the conference, I arrived to a short week which ended in Thanksgiving. Obviously, it was Thanksgiving in the holiday sense--complete with trips to see family and eat a good deal of turkey. But thanksgiving as well because Book 3 (Interpreting the Prohibition Era) is now out and (most importantly for me) my author copies arrived. As a professional historian and writer, it is always gratifying to see the final product and even more so to hold it in your hands. It is my hope that the book will serve its intended purpose.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
The View from a Mile High City
Last week I had the good fortune to travel to Denver, Colorado to take part in a conference on university honors programs. It was a great time to be out in Denver, I met colleagues from around the country, got to tour the city, and came home with all sorts of new ideas for the honors program at Butler University.
Part of my time was spent taking part in a City-As-Text exercise. My group traveled to the Colorado State Capitol building as well as Molly Brown's house (she of unsinkable/Titanic fame). It was a wonderful time, with some breathtaking views. The steps up to the statehouse itself have been confirmed via GPS to be a mile above sea level -- and if you take the tour, your view can get even better, via the observation deck that is around the golden dome.
In what little down time I had, I did some further exploration of the city, witnessing Denver as a city proud of its past in many ways, excited about its future, and grappling with issues caused by growth, tourism, and homelessness (the climate, both environmental--generally temperate with 300 days of sunshine--and political contribute to all three). I even managed to get a little writing and revising done on my next book.
As an author, I know all to well what it means to grapple with a text. But the rewards (and most often they aren't monetary) are worth it. I have been thinking about that quite a bit as my third book (Interpreting the Prohibition Era at Museums and Historic Sites) is due to come out this month. As I relate in the book, at one point I never thought I would return to the world of wets and drys (which was, after all, the topic of my first book). But with this new book, I got to engage that material in new ways, and found if not new understanding, at least new ways to view the Prohibition Era. You don't always have to look at things from the mountain top perch, but some times doing so helps you appreciate the view.
Part of my time was spent taking part in a City-As-Text exercise. My group traveled to the Colorado State Capitol building as well as Molly Brown's house (she of unsinkable/Titanic fame). It was a wonderful time, with some breathtaking views. The steps up to the statehouse itself have been confirmed via GPS to be a mile above sea level -- and if you take the tour, your view can get even better, via the observation deck that is around the golden dome.
In what little down time I had, I did some further exploration of the city, witnessing Denver as a city proud of its past in many ways, excited about its future, and grappling with issues caused by growth, tourism, and homelessness (the climate, both environmental--generally temperate with 300 days of sunshine--and political contribute to all three). I even managed to get a little writing and revising done on my next book.
As an author, I know all to well what it means to grapple with a text. But the rewards (and most often they aren't monetary) are worth it. I have been thinking about that quite a bit as my third book (Interpreting the Prohibition Era at Museums and Historic Sites) is due to come out this month. As I relate in the book, at one point I never thought I would return to the world of wets and drys (which was, after all, the topic of my first book). But with this new book, I got to engage that material in new ways, and found if not new understanding, at least new ways to view the Prohibition Era. You don't always have to look at things from the mountain top perch, but some times doing so helps you appreciate the view.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)