The things you miss while on the subway train

I discovered today that you can miss a lot of what's going on in the world while you're on the subway train, riding the rails beneath the city.

No, I don't care about the latest disaster involving Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton. Or which primetime TV show has been shelved because of the writer's strike.

This morning, while on the Metro getting to work, I missed the news that Joe Gibbs was retiring from coaching...from his second tour as the head coach and all-around class act of the highest magnitude of the Washington Redskins.

Joe Gibbs was the coach of my hometown's football team almost my entire life (he only missed a year or so) up until his first retirement. And I remember the sadness then that the region had at his departure. I also remember the excruciatingly painful seasons that followed as the team floundered. And I remember the euphoria that accompanied the legendary coach's return.

And, today, when I walked into my office and the first words anyone said to me were, "Joe Gibbs resigned." This was coming from a rabid Redskins fan in my office. I thought she was pulling my leg. But, alas, she wasn't. She insisted that the Redskins was one subject she wouldn't dream of joking about.

And so it's true. Once again Washington bids farewell to its favorite coach -- a man you can't help but respect, the dictionary definition of a class act.

I'm glad to see him setting an example for what's really important in life. But I won't lie and say that the start of the season next fall won't be bittersweet.

The miracle of democracy

...or the miracle of the American republic if you want to get especially precise with the terminology.

Tonight, as I type in fact, thousands of Iowans are trekking through the snow and cold that is their winter habitat to divide themselves in groups in school libraries, gymnasiums, community centers, etc., to declare their allegiance to one man or woman whom they believe should have the opportunity to become the next president of the United States.

At the start of its election cycle, the world's only remaining superpower, the wealthiest nation in the world, calls the citizens of one state to stand up for their candidate, in front of their neighbors, family members and perfect strangers. The rest of us, or at least the 20-some percent of us who choose to participate in the primary election process, will get our chances to caucus or vote by secret electronic ballot over the next few months.

I love watching politics and government work. As a reporter, I had ring-side seats to two full sessions and one special session of the Maryland General Assembly, arguably one of the most colorful political bodies in the country. Local government I could take or leave. But state and national politics are simply fascinating. Granted, the making of laws and sausages are still two things I don't think anyone should be forced to watch.

And I am weary already of the relentless media coverage of the horse race --- all sound and fury signifying nothing --- and the thought of another 10 months of that is rather nauseating.

But election night never fails to get me.

Right now, thousands of Kenyans are fleeing for their lives because accusations of a stolen election there have erupted into ethnic conflict.

In Iraq a few years back, Iraqis risked death by heading to the polls. Their political leaders still live in fear of assassination.

And in North Korea, Cuba, Myanmar and other countries around the world, the people don't have a voice.

We do. It is a horrible shame that more of us don't exercise this right of our citizenship. And, yes, our political system has its faults. (I still don't see the point of the electoral college, but I'll save that post for later this year. And don't get me started on the amount of money it takes these days to run a successful campaign.)

But when it comes down to it, for 219 years, we've elected the new leader of our country without bloodshed or national uprisings or the outbreak of civil war. And even with an election cycle as unpredictable as this one (the tightest primary race in recent memory), we're not worried about violence or turmoil.

No matter which party you belong to, or what you think of this nation's political, moral or ethical stance, that's something to be proud of.

Good luck, Iowa! And God bless us, everyone.

Little Things #2

It's been kinda rainy and grey around here the last week or so. That's a good thing -- we need the rain. But you do get to missing the sunshine.

This afternoon I walked out of my office to get a sandwich for lunch, and was struck by a wonderful smell -- the smell of fall.

The fog from this morning had burned off, and while it was still a little overcast, the sun was trying to peak through. There were scattered patches of baby blue sky visible. And the trees -- at their peak for the last week or so with brilliant oranges, reds, golden yellows, rusts, plums and cinnamons -- were striking.

It was that combination of a little dampness and a lot of dry, decaying leaves that hit my nose and triggered a wonderful feeling. I was briefly reminded of all the years of jumping in the leaf pile at the bottom of the hill in our backyard when I was a kid after my dad had finally raked them all up, and before he hauled them into the woods.

The little things in life

I often find myself marveling at the joy that the little things in life bring. I can't tell you how many times I've been sitting around a table laughing at something that seems so silly, but the fact is, it really is the little things sometimes that bring a smile to our faces.

The latest one was this morning. It was raining a little, and typical of D.C. traffic, things were backed up. But I was marveling at the difference made by my new (as of last Saturday) windshield wipers on my car. After driving home Friday night in the rain, and noticing then that I probably needed to replace my wipers, it was wonderful this morning to have a crystal clear windshield!

Silly, I know. But it made me happy.

What are some of your "little things"?

A redeemed life

On my trainride in the mornings, I try to pray Morning Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours (the Liturgy of the Hours is a prayer -- required of all Catholic priests and religious brothers and sisters, but perfectly recommended for regular folks, too -- that consists of excerpts from the Psalms, readings from the Bible and prayers of intercession).

The other morning, I was struck by a line in one of the Psalms, and it connected a whole bunch of other thoughts. The line was : "all the earth has seen the salvation by our God." The "salvation" the "earth has seen" is the sacrificial death of Jesus on the cross. And as Christians, we are baptized into Christ's saving death and rise again into new life as members of his body, the church. That's a free gift from God...a totally gratuitous gift. How different would the world be if we all really lived that reality? As people who have been redeemed?

I've been meditating a lot lately about baptism, mostly because it's come up in discussions in two Bible studies I'm participating in. At my parish, St. Mary's, there's a small group of young adults who are studying the First Letter of St. John. In that letter, the writer is encouraging the early Christians to live lives that are worthy of their baptism -- to love one another. I'm also part of an online study with a small group of fellow FUS grads. We've been reading St. Paul's letters to the Philippians and Colossians. This past week, we were just talking about how Colossians is like a mini-catechism, and for the people it was addressed to, it was speaking of a way of life that was still very new to them.

But there are a couple of places in that letter where St. Paul urges them to live lives worthy of the call they've received, to live like they have been raised with Christ.

What would that really look like if we took those words seriously? That was a really convicting thought.

We'd pay more attention to our fellow men

We'd be more generous with our money, time and talent

We wouldn't be so concerned with the next fad, or the bigger car, or with acquiring things

What would the world be like if we only recognized and truly lived God's gratuitous gift?

My life on the train

As life has dictated it, I am currently working about 40 miles away from home in Arlington, Va. If I were to actually drive to work, it'd probably be more miles than that considering the distance is 40 miles if you go straight through D.C.

But I'm not that crazy. I take the Metro and instead of gnashing my teeth in traffic and wasting expensive gasoline, I grab a seat for a 40-minute train ride, read my morning Washington Post, and gnash my teeth at delayed trains and PA systems that sometimes work.

It's not the ideal situation, but I love Annapolis too much to move, and, believe it or not, the traffic is still better east of D.C. than south of it in my native Northern Virginia. So, you do what you have to to keep body and soul together. And, besides, a trip on the Metro can actually be kind of entertaining.

Here's a sampling of some of the sights, sounds, and thoughts (real or imagined) of a typical morning on the train:

Finally, here's the train. Running 10 minutes behind this morning.
Hurry, get a window seat on the shady side of the car.
First station, Landover.
Clickety clack screek.
Let's see, what's going on in the world today.
Lord, open my lips and my mouth shall declare your praise.
(muffled strains of some offensive rap song emanate from the earbuds of the passenger standing in the aisle four feet from me.)
Doors opening.
Geez, full train this morning. Guess I'll have to stand. Doors closing.
Clickety clack screek.
(A handful of other stops ensue, people cram into the car, including rowdy teenagers headed to some charter school or magnet program somewhere...they've got a long ride from southeast D.C. to who knows where in northwest.)
Next stop, Stadium Armory.
Hey, where you at? Huh? Wha'? I'm on the train. Hello? Hello?
Ah, what a beautiful morning. Pretty clear day, you can actually see the National Shrine over that hill behind the Pepco plant, and over there in the distance is the National Cathedral.
Attention customers. We'll be moving momentarily. There's a blue line train crossing in front of us.
And there's the Capitol dome and the Washington Monument. I love Washington!
(More stops)
Next stop L'Enfant Plaza.
(loud laughter) Stop it, man!
Why do those kids have to be so loud?
Hmmm....Maryland lost again.
What's at the movies this weekend?
Next stop, Metro Center.
Doors opening. Customers on the platform, please stand back and allow customers to exit before boarding the train.
Excuse me! Coming through! Excuse me!
Doors closing. Please stand clear of the doors.
Ouch! (as a woman's purse and elbow get caught in the car doors that do not bounce back like garage or elevator doors)
Hi, Trish? Hi, it's Chris. Would you tell Dan I'm on my way? The train's late; I'm still on the Metro. Thanks. (must be nice to have cell service underground.)
McPherson Square, doors opening on the right.
Ahhhh, room to breathe. (McPherson Square is one of the two major stops for federal and D.C. gov't. employees)
Clickety clack screek.
(more stops)
Next stop, Rosslyn, first station in the Commonwealth of Virginia.
(It's generally pretty quiet through the rest of the ride)
Next stop, Ballston-Marymount University.
Excuse me, stand to the right please. (Why don't people get the whole stand to the right, walk to the left thing on escalators?)
Why didn't that lady have her fare card ready? She had 50-some feet to get it in her hand!
(Passengers exiting dodge passengers sprinting to catch the next inbound train, which is already packed.)
(Finally make it to street level...these days it always seems colder here than it was in New Carrollton.)