
My Apartment, Washington Heights, New York City. July 24, 2012
365 Part Deux
365.337 No pictures please.

168th Subway Station, New York City. July 23, 2012
365 Part Deux
365.336 Sunday in the Park with Granny

J. Hood Park in Washington Heights, New York City. July 22, 2012
365 Part Deux
365.335 Oliver can’t take his eyes off Sonya

With Sonya in My Apartment in Washington Heights, New York City. July 21, 2012
365 Part Deux
365.334 Blue and Orange! GO BRONCOS.

With Granny in My Apartment in Washington Heights, New York City. July 20, 2012
365 Part Deux
365.333 After a bath with mom

My Apartment in Washington Heights, New York City. July 19, 2012
365 Part Deux
Thought of the day
While reading the newest update from my seminary about their operating plans, I find myself dwelling on the following thought: when a religious organization follows the business culture around them and begins to lay off staff and combine previous positions, giving current employees more work for no increase pay and creating economic hardships for others, all for the good of the institution, should the religious organization actually use the language of business and claim that this is all for “efficiency” purposes? Even in the current economic environment where cutting positions is normal and even if the institution needs to save money, is it truly a pastoral response to use the fake language of the business world? Or can we just be blunt with our use of language? And if not, why not? There’s a difference between being pastoral and appearing phony and I think the church runs into problems when it thinks that using the language of sugar somehow makes everything better.
Porker
We took little Oliver to Central Park today though the little guy slept through the whole thing. He missed the I’M-NOT-PAYING-THREE-DOLLARS-FOR-A-POP food carts, the miles of lost tourists who are probably stilled trapped inside the park, the runners who kept cursing me under my breath because I was enjoying the view, and the family of ducks that floated below us in the reservoir. Instead, after a “traumatic” experience at the doctor (because who likes going to the doctor’s office?), he stayed curled up next to his mom with only the occasional squirm as a response to my constant picture taking. He didn’t even seem to realize that he rode a New York City bus for the first time nor did he notice his mom playing with makeup in Sephora. Nope, he just sat there, happy as a clam as we wandered through the West Side. Poor kid – he doesn’t know what he’s missing yet. But if his eye movements, his ability to start lifting up his head with his neck, his smiles, and his increased fussiness as a way to communicate with us – if these are a sign of where he’s going, he’ll see everything pretty soon.
365.332 His arms are like little motors.

Doctor’s Office, Upper West Side, New York City. July 18, 2012
365 Part Deux