Wedding

I've just got back from playing the organ at my first Oklahoma wedding, in a Baptist church. I was expecting it to be a little on the, er, saccharine side, and to that extent it did not disappoint. I was, however, genuinely shocked by the Bible reading, which was from Ephesians Chapter 5, and included the following:

"Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body. Therefore, as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing."

I think someone forgot to tell my wife about that bit.

Senator Jim Inhofe (2)

He's also rude and belligerent.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWQotshOSDo&NR=1

Senator Jim Inhofe (1)

Recently Senator Jim Inhofe, the senior senator from Oklahoma, made the national news by criticising President Obama's speech in Cairo as 'un-American'. He said that Obama was wrong to refer to Iraq as 'a war of choice' during a speech on foreign soil, and wrong to imply that torture had taken place at Guantanamo Bay. He added: 'I just don't know whose side he's on.'

The Oklahoman reported this with the headline 'Criticism from US Senator Jim Inhofe echoed by Republicans', which seems to imply that the most significant thing about Inhofe's comments were that they led the way for other Republicans, rather than that they are inherently stupid.

You can read the Oklahoman's story here. (To be fair, the video segment embedded in this page does give a more rounded view.)

I remember seeing lots of yard signs out for this guy Inhofe during the elections last year, and I decided to find out a little more about him. It turns out he is a Bible-thumping, right-wing, global warming denying, homophobic ultra-conservative nutjob.* I refer you to Inhofe's Wikipedia article.

How good to know that I am represented at the national level by this esteemed gentleman.

Bill Maher had a good comment on Inhofe. 'What's he talking about? Obama's speech was thoughtful, well-crafted, subtle, nuanced ... oh yeah, it is un-American.'

*In my personal opinion, in case Mr Inhofe's lawyers are watching.

Places and place names

Oklahoma may not be the most sophisticated and cosmopolitan place on the planet, but at least I live in an area called The Village, which sounds a little bit arty. It could be worse. I could live in one of the following real places in Oklahoma:

Cement
Beaver
Wheeless
Felt
Alfalfa
Elk City
Granite
Big Cabin
Commerce
Velma (unaccountably, Shaggy and Scooby don't seem to exist)
Tom
Swink
Slaughterville
Scraper
Pumpkin Center
North Pole
Blue
Hogshooter
Oil Center
Frogville
Sulphur

Other place names, as well as being slightly odd, conjure up more positive, even romantic associations. Imagine the hope which Fort Supply must have instilled in the hardy frontiersman in the 19th century. Other names indicate a spirit of optimism (Friendship, Okay) or wild idealism (Eldorado). White Eagle and Lone Wolf refer, no doubt, to the Native American heritage. Gene Autry is just bizarre.

I like 'The Village', however. All it is really is a little parcel of semi-suburban Oklahoma City, about 10 miles north of the city centre, which has a measure of civic independence. The Village has its own City Hall, police and fire departments, services and utilities. My address, correctly, is The Village, Oklahoma: I don't technically live in Oklahoma City. Apparently, The Village takes its name from 'The Village Store', which was a local meeting place in the 1940s when this area was mostly just farms and open country.

You can read about it here. This history reads like it was written a few years ago by someone old enough to remember when The Village was planned and built, and who now has too much time on their hands. After all, there's only so much you can read about what was said in town meetings in 1953, or the history of the sewerage system. But despite the rather weighty and purple prose, parts of it are interesting, and it gives you a sense of how this area has developed over time. The funny thing is that when it talks about the 1940s and 50s, it sounds like an age ago, but it's not really. Many people I meet every day will remember that time perfectly well. In the UK, that era really doesn't seem like a long time ago, perhaps because so much of what we see around us today was already firmly in place by that time. Here, the scale and speed of recent development is such that this area is no doubt completely unrecognisable compared to that time.

In America people talk about 'The State of...' and 'The City of...' when they want to refer to a political or civic entity. In the UK, we talk about county councils, city councils and borough councils. So, I live in Oklahoma, but the governmental level of the state is known officially as 'The State of Oklahoma'. States are divided into counties, which in turn are divided into cities. The term 'city' here does not carry the same inferences as it does in the UK: for one thing, it doesn't have to be very big (a city can have just a few hundred people living in it). The Village is technically a city, which means that at the official level, it is The City of The Village. Bizarre.

Organs and churches

In recent weeks, I seem to have developed a new career as a professional substitute organist. I have always played the organ a bit, even though I've never considered myself to be particularly good. I first played for a church service when I was 14, as the regular organist for our church was ill and I was asked to step in at the last minute. As I recall, I played the hymns in two parts - the tune in the right hand, the bass in the left - and played some of my graded piano exam pieces as the voluntaries. I then took lessons for two years, but other things (particularly composition) became more important and I stopped learning. But I continued playing: it was a useful way to supplement my income when I was a student, and subsequently I played once a month at the small country church in Oxfordshire where we got married. In the UK, although there is a wonderful tradition of organ playing at the cathedrals and large parish churches, good organists are a rare commodity for small churches, especially of non-Anglican denominations, who can't afford to pay very much, or at all. So even though I could do little more than get through a few hymns and busk my way through a small repertoire of opening and closing voluntaries, I usually found myself reasonably well in demand.

In Oklahoma City, as I have written elsewhere, the churches are many, large, and ostentatious. But I held back from advertising my services, as their websites seemed to suggest that they were already more than adequately provided for, by 'music ministry' teams drawn from their ample congregations. Not to mention a nagging feeling that I wasn't really a proper organist, and wouldn't be good enough. Anyway, eventually, having made a few enquiries, I joined the OKC chapter of the American Guild of Organists and added myself to their substitute rota.

When I got back from my recent trip to the UK in March/April, there were 3 messages on my cellphone offering me work. The only one which I hadn't already missed was a gig playing at a large Presbyterian church in a couple of weeks' time. Subsequent enquiries revealed that they had a membership roll of 1800 and three services on a Sunday morning, at 8.15, 9.30 and 11.15. I swallowed hard, but decided to accept. After all, if I was terrible and died on my poverbial backside, I could just retreat graciously from the Oklahoma City organists' scene and no-one would ever need to know it had happened, apart from the 1800 members of the church. Oh, and the people who watched the broadcast of the 9.30am service which went out on local TV. And my parents, who happened to be visiting from the UK that week.

When I turned up at the church to practise, I found the usual enormous Microsoft-corporate-headquarters-style complex of entrance hall, offices, educational suite, and eventually, somewhere inside, a church - or sanctuary, as they (quite correctly) call it here. The organ was a huge 4-manual beast with ranks of stops, pistons and switches which made it look like the flight deck of Concorde. But I stealed my resolve and attempted to tame it.

On the Sunday morning, I was, to put it mildly, extremely nervous. I didn't play well at the 8.15 service, possibly because there were in fact only about 40 people in the congregation and I had planned my registrations for a full church, so I had to cut back at the last minute. But I got into the swing of things in the 9.30 service (congregation: approx. 300) and by the 11.15 (approx. 200) I was coasting. Lots of people congratulated me and said they'd like to have me back. I breathed a sigh of relief - perhaps I wasn't too bad after all.

Since then, I've had a lot more emails and phone calls requesting my services - some simply having got my details from the AGO substitute list, at least one as a direct result of my triumphant debut at XXX Presbyterian Church (not its real name, I hasten to add). It's summer, of course, and a lot of people are on holiday ('vacation'): I'm actually completely booked out now for every Sunday until I go to Malaysia to examine in August. One church nearby (which has an absolutely delightful, lovely, friendly lady as their regular organist / director of music) has asked me to treat the church as my 'base', with an offer to practise the organ whenever I need to. I'm really starting to enjoy myself.

And it's well paid. The churches here are well-resourced, and able to pay very well. The instruments are in good condition and enjoyable to play. And people seem to appreciate what I can do.

Last Friday morning, I went along to a church where I had been engaged to play the organ on Sunday, in order to practise. I was met by a gentleman who I'll call Bill. Bill is in his sixties, I would guess; he's sung in the choir at this church for most of his life, and he assumes a role of deputy choir director when the regular organist / choir director is away, as he is now (which is why I was playing of course). Bill wanted to go through the service with me, and explain what I had to do, all of which was very helpful. Bill had iron-grey hair which was parted in a razor-sharp line and brushed perfectly to one side; he also had the typical expansive girth of the Oklahoman of a certain age (which is to say, almost any age you like). At one point, apropos of something which I now can't remember, he said 'It's a bit like the Federal Government at the moment - you may not like what they're doing, but you just have to accept it'. Ouch. I replied by saying, with a smile 'Well, let's not get into that!' I was worried that if we had got into it, I might have been out of a job for this Sunday.

As it was, I maintained my political neutrality and kept the gig. This particular church had only one service, at 11am. The building would have easily seated 1000 plus, but the congregation (I counted them) numbered around 50, most of whom looked to be over 70. It was just like being back in the UK. After the service, chatting to various people, it became apparent that membership has declined somewhat in recent years. Another church I've visited recently, close to where I live, is clearly in the same position. Maybe the churches in Oklahoma aren't all as vibrant and well-resourced as I thought. Maybe, even here in the heart of the American Bible belt, social trends are going the same way as they have been for years in every other industrialised country in the world.

Having sat through their service, I may have a suggestion as to why. The form of the service, the selection of music (not my own), the content of the sermon and the childrens' address, and the simplistic, sub-Victorian theology on offer, were so dull, uninspiring, and irrelevent to modern life of any description that I couldn't imagine that anyone would find it interesting or uplifting. One of the hymns I had to play (words and music by Clara H Scott, 1895) was the kind of mission-hall drivel which no-one in the UK has sung since 1956. (Actually, I think that's another reason why I'm popular as an organist - I tend to choose good music, like Bach, rather than the home-grown, tinkly 'contemporary Christian' stuff that most churches here seem to restrict themselves to.)

I wouldn't be surprised if, as in the UK, the only churches which are actually growing here are the charismatic, evangelical, gospel-guitars-and-tambourines, speaking-in-tongues megachurches. If, meanwhile, the mainstream denominations - which at least have a certain dignity about them - could move forward with the sort of progressive Christianity espoused for example by liberal theologians like John Shelby Spong, they might maintain some kind of relevance. But this is basically a very conservative culture, and I can't see that happening. Meanwhile, the younger generation, as they have everywhere else, will find enough alternative excitement and entertainment via technology and the consumer and celebrity cultures, and will simply stop going to church.

Cardinal

I've been trying to get a decent photograph of a cardinal for ages. They are spectacular birds; the male is bright scarlet in colour. Here's a male and female taken from my study window. You can't really see the true colour of the male because of the shadow cast by the tree, but it will give you an idea.

Barber

I got my hair cut yesterday. One of the best things about going to a barbers' shop in America is that the chair you sit in is mounted on a turntable which allows it to be rotated through 360 degrees. So whereas in the UK, you sit facing the mirror while the hairdresser moves around you, in the US the hairdresser stays in the same place and swings you round as required. Not only does this save them the needless exertion of walking around the chair and squeezing into awkward positions to get at various bits of your head (and we know Americans don't like to walk any more than they have to), it also provides some mild excitement and variety of view for the customer. Everyone's a winner.

Changing seasons

Storm

We had a thunderstorm last night. Not an uncommon occurrence here. I took these pictures as it was brewing.

We watched the progress of the storm on TV. When there's bad weather, the local channels suspend usual programmes and provide continous coverage, with live radar information, webcams, and analysis. It's pretty slick (in fact it's frequently far more entertaining than the programmes it replaces). At one point it seemed like a tornado might develop on the southern side of OKC (we live on the north side, luckily, and the weather was travelling south-east) but despite the classic 'donut-hole' formation developing, it didn't produce a tornado.

I'm also entranced by what seems to be a standard gauge for measuring the size of hailstones, which revolves around monetary currency and types of sports balls. Hail is described as 'dime-size', 'nickel-size', 'quarter-size', and then 'ping-pong ball sized', 'golf ball sized', 'tennis ball sized', and 'baseball-sized'. For a while I wasn't sure whether a ping-pong ball or a golf ball was larger, but apparently it's the golf ball. I'm still not sure whether or not a baseball is larger than a tennis ball, maybe because I've had no personal experience of baseball, and don't really have much of an idea how big a baseball is. Assuming it's roughly the size of a cricket ball, then it probably is larger than a tennis ball, but hmm... not sure. One I thing I do know is I wouldn't want to be outside in any of it!

America Unchained (with extra churches)

I've recently finished reading Dave Gorman's book 'America Unchained'. Gorman is a British comedian who decided he wanted to discover the real America. He had spent time in New York, LA and other big American cities, and had also toured America doing a one-man show, but he had become disenchanted with the bland, soulless chain hotels and restaurants of corporate America. So he decided he would do the classic American road trip, driving from coast to coast in a 1970s station wagon, but the catch was to be this: that he would not purchase any goods or services from chains. So the task was to find accommodation, food, gas and all other amenities from independent retailers.

Well, the trip proceeds with unpredictable and hilarious consequences, as you can imagine, and it's a fun read. But I was struck in a way by the similarities which his book has with my blog, in that he's a British bloke of about my age, who thought he knew America reasonably well, discovering things about the places, people and culture of middle America which were new to him. Indeed, some of his observations are uncannily like my own. Take this one, from towards the end of the book when he's driving through Mississippi:

"Outside of the towns Mississippi seemed to be mostly trees and churches. The road we took sliced through a blanket of evergreens, punctuated by the odd rust patch of something more autumnal and then suddenly, there'd be a patch of open land and set back from the road would be an enormous, gleaming white Baptist church. They were mind-bogglingly big places and I couldn't help but wonder where on earth they drew their congregations from. We might drive through a community with a population of less than 400 people and then two or three miles later find ourselves driving past a church that could surely seat 4,000. And then 15 miles later we'd pass another one. These churches weren't relics of the past: they looked new and shiny - white palaces not white elephants - so presumably they'd been built to satisfy demand ... Whichever way I looked at it, I just couldn't make sense of the vast capacity for worship. There didn't seem to be enough people or homes around to make the numbers add up. Maybe the people of Mississippi are really good at hiding? Or perhaps all those trees go to church and nobody told me?"

Although it's an urban rather than a rural area, Oklahoma City is just the same. The ratio of huge churches to residential areas seems strongly out of kilter. Last Sunday I played the organ at a church which has three services on a Sunday morning, and claims to have a membership roll of 1800. (To be fair I wouldn't say the combined congregations that Sunday amounted to more than half that). But what really amazed me was that at one point the minister said that a recent survey had shown that 'in this area' (and I don't know whether he meant OKC in general, that part of it, or just the streets around the church) only 40% of people went to church. 40%?? That's surely nonsense. Everyone in Oklahoma City goes to church.

What I did realise for the first time though was that the actual level of religious involvement of many of these people is quite limited. There was a strong sense which I picked up of a social obligation fulfilled. People filed in to church, sat and listened to the service, stood up and sat down in the right places, and immediately the service was finished they streamed out of the door, got in their SUVs and drove away. It reminded me of one time years ago when I was in rural western Ireland and attended mass at the local (Catholic) church. It was a vast, dark building, completely packed with people. At the back it was standing room only, and I was vaguely aware of the priest a long way away at the front, performing various ritual incantations with incense, bells, etc. As he did so, people would pop in and pop out, chat to their friends about weather and the current prices of livestock, and I'm sure there were a couple of children playing a game together on the floor. Attending mass was clearly part of the culture: something you did because everyone else does, not through any particularly strong personal religious conviction.

I had intended this post to be about Dave Gorman's book but I seem to have strayed into writing about churches yet again. So let me add one more quotation from America Unchained, this time from near the start of the book:

"New York and LA don't really tell you what life in the rest of America is like. To judge America on those two cities alone is to admire a man's bookends without reading any of his books".

How true. But it might be a more apposite metaphor if you imagine a shelf of bookends with a book at either end.

Things to do in Oklahoma City

My parents are visiting from the UK, so we've been going out and about doing those 'touristy' things that you never do unless you have visitors, or are a visitor yourself in some other place. So far we've visited the National Memorial and Museum, commemorating the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing (very powerful and moving), the State Capitol (seriously impressive, especially the debating chambers) and the Oklahoma Railway Museum, where you can have a short ride on a genuine American train, which I got the impression was a first time experience for many of the adults taking part, never mind the children.

Remaining on our list of possible places to visit are the Oklahoma History Center, the Oklahoma City Zoo and Botanical Garden, the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, Science Museum Oklahoma, and the Oklahoma City Museum of Art. I am still trying to persuade my parents to try the Oklahoma Museum of Telephone History and the World of Wings Pigeon Museum, but sadly they don't seem so interested in those...

Breakfast

Not my idea of breakfast...

The Oklahoma Spring Collection

Robert (2), from Yorkshire, UK, is modelling a stylish yet practical OU 'Sooners' anorak - perfect for those Oklahoma ice storms and chilly British spring mornings alike. His sister Daisy (7) is not modelling her 'Wholesome Oklahoma girl' t-shirt.

Wildfires

As if the tornados weren't enough...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7993435.stm

(Midwest City is just to the east of Oklahoma City, about 20 miles from where we are. We bought our car from a dealership there).

I'm good, thanks

Oklahoma-speak - or at least American-speak - is clearly seeping into the discourse of British teenagers more quickly than I'd imagined (see 'How to speak Oklahoman', 6 March). I noticed during the last two weeks, when I was examining in the UK, that most of the candidates answered my greeting of 'how are you today?' with 'I'm good, thanks' or some similar construction. I would always have said - and still would say - 'fine' or 'very well'.

It's like the other thing I've noticed for some time now, but haven't heard anyone comment on - the disappearance of what I think, from recalling my school French lessons, is called the imperfect tense. As in 'X just got better!', which surely should be 'X has just got better'. Or 'did you try the salsa dip?' as opposed to 'have you tried the salsa dip?' Surely the first of these suggests a meal which occured some time ago, while the second suggests a meal which is ongoing - yet in America, and increasingly in the UK, only the first construction is ever used.

The Famous Cock

Just for a change, instead of something amusing about Oklahoma which British people can laugh at, here's something amusing about Britain which Oklahomans can laugh at. I visited this pub in North London last week. For obvious reasons, its name could never be replicated here...

Tornado shelter

Perhaps it's a sign of how assimilated an Okie I've become that I didn't realise until a few days ago how amusing it would be to a Brit that, until very recently, we were seriously considering installing a tornado shelter in our house. The reason we eventually decided against it was that it is, on balance, probably an extravagance we can manage without. But in Oklahoma it's a reasonably standard thing, certainly no more unusual than putting in a loft conversion or installing a new garden shed would be in the UK. However, when I told this to a British friend the other day, she dissolved into hysterics (well, laughter anyway) at the mere idea.

Oklahoma is known as 'tornado alley'; in fact the film 'Twister' is set there, something I didn't know until recently. The fact is that there are tornados, and some of them can be very big and scary. I've already posted a description of a close shave I had a few weeks ago ('Tornado', 10 Feb). As far as I know, that's the only serious tornado there's been in OKC so far this year, although some more were predicted the other day which didn't materialise. So, given that you might perhaps expect to have one go through the city every couple of months while the season lasts (approximately February to November), I think it's pretty unlikely that you'd actually be unlucky enough to get in the way of a big one which would do serious damage to you, your house or car (or which would transport you to the mythical land of Oz - but that's only in Kansas, I believe). Unlikely, but not impossible.

But it's a fact of life if you live here, and my fellow Oklahomans - real ones, who've lived here a long time - are just used to it. As far as I can tell, most of them don't feel they need to go so far as to install a shelter, and are content to adopt their usual quite laid-back attitude to life; they just know that if one is about to hit they need to get in the bath, cover themselves with blankets, and prepare for the worst. This may seem odd given the facts of the matter, but to be fair, the IRA routinely planted bombs in London while I was a student in the early 1990s - I could, theoretically, have been blown to pieces at any point, and indeed one night, while in bed at about midnight, I heard a distant muffled bang which I found out in the morning had been an IRA bomb which went off a few miles from my house. But neither I nor my friends ever thought seriously about the danger. Mind you, this could have been because we spent a lot of time drinking beer, or so I recall.

So what of the tornado shelter? Well, they basically come and dig a big hole in your garage floor (that's garage, of course, not garage) into which they put a large steel box with a sliding lid, and then fill in the rest of the hole with concrete. The plan is that when the twister's on its way you descend into this box and sit tight while your house collapses around you, and several hundred tons of rubble falls on top of the box. When the danger's passed, you winch the lid open from inside and, hey presto, there you are. My parents said it's essentially the same as an Anderson shelter, which were common in Britain during the second world war.

You can find out more about them here. They have several entertaining and informative videos, including some marvellously scripted duologues between a potential customer and the cheery tornado shelter vendor: 'This being a tornado shelter, obviously it would have to take a lot of debris being thrown at it ... is there a way that you test for that?' 'Yeah, there sure is!' I was rooting for him to look crestfallen and say 'Er, no, sorry, we've never done that', but luckily Mr Tornado Shelter has an answer for every tricky sales question. I'm suspicious, though, because the customer appears to be dressed in the same tornado shelter clothes as the salesman.

The videos are persuasive, but personally I think drinking lots of beer might be a better option - certainly more enjoyable, and cheaper.

Home, sweet home

I'm currently in the UK, and I have come to the conclusion that, on the whole, I prefer it to Oklahoma.

For one thing, all my friends and family are here, and I've had a great time catching up with all sorts of people. Almost everyone in Oklahoma spends their time (a) working (very long hours), (b) raising their families, and (c) going to church (several times a week), with hardly any time left over for anything else. And most peoples' social lives revolve around these three things, particularly (b) and (c). So for someone like me, whose work involves travelling and working from home, whose family consists of a wife and a dog, and who doesn't go to church, it's almost impossible to develop much of a social life.

Also, a brief comment on current affairs. Is it just me, or is Tony McNulty's expenses claim being given a lot more media prominence than it deserves? I mean, the planet is melting, wars are being fought, the global economy is in freefall, and the British media is obsessed about the expenses of an obscure government minister?

Spring in Oklahoma

(This is the same tree which appears in the earlier post, 'Fall Colours', 3 November).

How to speak Oklahoman - a short quiz

1. What is the correct response to the greeting 'How are you?'

a) Very well, thank you
b) Fine, thanks
c) Good, how are you?

2. What should you say if you don't quite catch what someone has said?

a) Sorry?
b) Pardon?
c) Excuse me?

3. How do you attract the attention of a man whose name you don't know?

a) Excuse me?
b) Oi, mate!
c) Sir?

4. How do you attract the attention of a lady whose name you don't know?

a) Excuse me?
b) Oi, darlin'!
c) Ma'am? (pronouced to rhyme with 'Spam')

5. What is the correct response to someone who says 'thank you'?

a) Not at all
b) Don't mention it
c) Uh-huh

Clue: the answer is c) in each case.

Hairy Babies

As a dog owner, I've discovered that a common Oklahoma expression, when you want to be cute and endearing, is to refer to a dog as a 'baby'. I was in a pet store the other day buying 'kibble' (dry dog food), and the cashier asked me what kind of baby I had. I wondered if she knew something I didn't, until I realised she was actually asking me what breed of dog I owned.

Recently we've been trying to find somewhere to board our dog when we go away. Today I drove to four kennels to check them out. It became clear that the further out from the city I drove, the nicer they became. The final one I visited was about half an hour's drive south of Oklahoma City, and it was the best of all - lovely facilities in a delightful rural setting, run by an extremely nice lady. I had initially phoned them because I was very taken by the name of the establishment: 'Hairy Babies'. I imagine quite a few of my friends in the UK will refuse to believe that our dog is going to stay somewhere called Hairy Babies, but I assure you it's true. Moreover, when you phone them up, the owner answers the phone by saying 'Hairy Babies!', which is reasonable enough in the circumstances I suppose, but must be very disconcerting if you've phoned a wrong number.

Initial concerns that our dog, being a whippet, might not be considered hairy enough for this establishment, proved unfounded.

Nutters at Oakville

OK, I'm really, really sorry about this, because it will probably offend some people, but I couldn't resist it. I'll change some names to preserve anonymity, but otherwise this is all completely accurate.

Looking for possible job openings yesterday, I found this:

'Christian Faculty Jobs: Music Theory / Composition Professor, Oakville University. A full-time, tenure-track position teaching Music Theory / Composition on the undergraduate level. Secondary areas of teaching may include, but are not limited to: music technology, music education and/or additional areas based on the candidates [sic] strengths and the needs of the department...

'Oakville University is a comprehensive, primarily undergraduate, Baptist university of arts, sciences, and professional programs with an enrollment of over 3,000. It combines a evangelical, non-charismatic, theological position [sic]. Faculty, who must be born-again Christians, must agree with our doctrinal statement, and Community Covenant and General Work Place Standards. In addition to teaching excellence, expectations include Biblical integration of faith/learning, student advising, scholarly pursuits, service activities, collegiality, and church involvement.

'Please direct inquiries to Dr. Simon Walters, Dean, School of Humanities, or his assistant, Ms. Sue Nutter at 123-456-7890 or nutters@oakville.edu. Applications accepted until position is filled.'

Churches (2)

Well, after previous comments I'm delighted to be able to write a positive post on this subject. Yesterday I walked up to a nearby church to talk about occasionally deputising there as an organist.

What impressed me most forcibly was the sheer size and scale of the building, and the whole operation which is run from it. I had seen the church before from outside, but it was only when I went in that I realised quite how extensive the complex is. In fact in many respects it wasn't like going into a church; it was like visiting a swanky set of corporate offices. This is simply a local church, but in the UK you would only come across something like this at a cathedral, or maybe one of the big evangelical churches in London, or the national headquarters of a certain denomination.

When I arrived, I went into a reception area which had two or three desks with official-looking people tapping away on PCs. There was a door through which I could see a corridor leading away to more offices. When the music director met me, she took me into the main church part, which was absolutely enormous, and very beautiful. The organ was built in 1987, three manuals, 40 ranks, perfect condition, beautiful to play. On the other side of the church was a wide 'piazza' space which had originally been outside but was now covered over. Later she showed me the 'educational suite' - a long corridor leading off to several more rooms. There were many more offices, a sizeable choir room ... it went on and on. It is a modern building, I wouldn't say more than 30 years old (just over 20 if built at the same time as the organ), well-designed, light, airy and in impeccable condition.

As an operation, it clearly employs a sizeable staff. This was a Monday lunchtime, but there were a number of people buzzing around, including a friendly young lady, dressed rather like a business executive, who was introduced as 'an associate minister' (how many do they have?). Everyone I met was very nice, welcoming and friendly. The music director is full-time; she runs two adult choirs, three junior choirs, and a handbell group, and co-ordinates all the music which takes place in the church; she told me she frequently struggles to get everything done in the time available. She is the organist; they also employ a choir director.

There are two services each Sunday morning; each attracts around 300 people. The really extraordinary thing about this is I happen to know there is another church of the same denomination one block away, which looks to be about the same size as this one. I would be surprised if there were 300 houses between the two churches. Yet there are also, of course, several churches of other denominations too. And we are not even talking about one of the more charismatic, evangelical, populist churches - this is, as far as I can tell, quite a mainstream and liberal denomination.

Looking round this building and meeting the people who work there, I began to understand more about why churches are so important here. If, when you think of 'church', you think of a large, modern, light, airy, spacious, well-equipped and well-resourced building, full of nice, friendly people, buzzing with activity throughout the week, which not only holds services but also has thriving music, educational and community outreach programmes, I suppose it doesn't seem so unappealing as the drafty, underfunded, under-resourced Victorian edifices you often find in the UK. If 'church' is something which is a regular part of life, often the bedrock of one's entire social life, for almost everyone in a community, rather than attracting only a small combination of well-meaning do-gooders, religious zealots and Jesus-anoraks as is so often the case in the UK, it perhaps seems less strange to want to be a part of it.

What is America? - or, Paytriotism (2)

Every so often, you read a book which profoundly alters your way of thinking. That's happened to me recently. The book in question is What is America? by Ronald Wright, which was given to me as a Christmas present by my father-in-law.

Those who like their politico-historical writing balanced and even-handed won't appreciate Mr Wright's book. But it is a pacy, colourful, and fascinating read. It's essentially a re-telling of the story of America, but it glosses over most of the well-known and often-told stories (Columbus, the Declaration of Independence, the Civil War, etc.) in order to explode some of the myths and, as he claims, lies about American history.

For example, he shows that the original European settlers (or 'invaders', as he calls them) arrived not in a virginal wilderness peopled by a few nomadic tribes, but in a sophisticated and civilized country, whose inhabitants had large towns, farms, and established political systems. He goes on to describe the Europeans' treatment of these societies - which included deliberate eradication by disease and ethnic displacement as well as more conventional warfare - as 'genocide'. Later, he expounds on America's imperial strategies in the 19th century, for example invading and occupying Hawaii and the Philippines for no real reason, and of course culminating in the tragic and ill-fated military adventures of recent years - Korea, Vietnam, Iraq. He also shows how the plundering of American wealth - particularly gold and minerals - helped to finance and make possible the Industrial Revolution in Britain.

Of course, there are always other ways of looking at things. I've no doubt many Native American tribes were as bloodthirsty in warfare as popular imagination suggests. And you can't judge morals and prerogatives of hundreds of years ago by the standards of today - for example, the Europeans obviously thought they had a divine imperative to 'civilize' the barbarians, and if they were triumphant in battle, that was the will of God. So I don't necessarily feel personally responsible for what my ancestors did. But at the end of the day - as Mr Wright says - we invaded their country, not the other way around.

Most importantly, what happened did eventually pave the way for the birth of a new country which had a profound effect on the Enlightenment, and set (until recently) global standards for freedom, equality and human dignity - even though the treatment of African-Americans, in particular, has always compromised those ideals.

Reading this book has certainly made me think again about how America got to be the way it is. It may be 'a great country', as I said in an earlier post, but I didn't quite realise before at what cost this was achieved.

Yellow grass

This was the thing I liked least about Oklahoma City when I visited this time last year, in anticipation of my eventual move. All the grass was yellow. Apparently this is quite normal - it goes this colour in the winter, and becomes green again in the spring. I really don't like it.

The grid system (3)

Building numbers on avenues do not go by block - they go by street number. So a building on the corner of 37th street will be numbered 3700 (or thereabouts).

Maybe, in fact, this is also the case for buildings on streets? - but it's hard to tell as the avenues in OKC have names rather than numbers.

I really will stop going on about this now.

Tornado

Well, it's finally happened - I've had my first tornado experience. As I was coming out of the supermarket earlier this afternoon, I noticed that the sky seemed very black, and as I was loading the groceries into the car, the sirens started wailing. I drove home and turned on the TV, just as the weather forecaster said that a funnel cloud was passing right across the nearest intersection to my house. I briefly thought about getting the dog and hiding in our coat closet (it's right in the centre of the house, furthest away from the windows and outside walls, which is where they tell you to go). But in a short while the danger had passed.

More bad weather systems have been forming to the south-west of OKC all afternoon, but they are generally not becoming tornados, and merely remaining as severe thunderstorms with high winds and 'baseball-sized hailstones'. So that's all right then.

I happened to phone our insurance agent a short while ago, and he said that the first funnel cloud had passed right by their office - they all watched it go by, sweeping up various bits of street furniture. It continued north-east to Edmond, a town just to the north of OKC, where it touched down and became a real tornado for about 10 minutes. The TV showed live pictures of it, a massive black twister, with huge bits of debris being thrown around. It went through residential areas and across a motorway. Funnily enough I was supposed to be driving to Edmond this afternoon to teach a piano lesson, but unsurprisingly that's been postponed.

It's only February. Tornado season starts around now and continues to November. I certainly hope we don't get too many more of these!

Work (3)

Before I moved to Oklahoma, a friend from the UK, who had spent a few months working here in the past, told me: 'Oklahomans work very long hours, but they get almost nothing done.'

It's true. The working day typically starts at 8am (even 7am is not uncommon), and often continues to 6pm or later. The salesman from whom we bought our car told us that he sometimes works 90 hours a week - of course he may have been exaggerating, but I think it's quite likely, as car dealerships are usually open to about 9pm Monday -Saturday, and he ususally seemed to be there when we phoned. I suppose he has an incentive to work such long hours as he's paid largely by commission. That's probably one reason why salespeople here are so attentive and friendly - though Oklahomans are naturally friendly anyway, and the service culture is definitely better here than in the UK.

Most people here work full-time, including many people (well) over 65. It's usual for both parents of a young family to work full-time: hence the wasp-striped school buses, ferrying children to and from school in their parents' absence. Part-time jobs usually consist of evening and weekend work, as it's assumed that anyone applying for a part-time job will be looking to fit it around their full-time one.

Add on church (typically two or three times a week, Sundays and Wednesday evenings) and the assumed heavy commitment to one's family, and your time is pretty much fully taken up. I think this is one reason why middle America is the home of the drive-through (fast food outlets, banks, pharmacies) - people simply don't have time to visit these establishments in what I would regard as a more conventional manner.

Other aspects of employment law and conditions don't help. Paid holiday and sick leave are paltry by UK standards, and even a routine visit to the doctor or dentist has to be taken as sick leave. If you're ill for more than about 10 days in a year, you have to take unpaid sick leave; and in a country where there's no universal health coverage (ie. your chances of getting better quickly might be lower than if that was not the case), that's not helpful.

Apparently, Oklahoma is what's called an 'at will state', which means employers can pretty much do what they like. For example, I am aware of a university which is requiring its staff to work 7.30am - 6pm for four days a week, for three months in the summer, in order to save on air conditioning bills. Not only are they allowed to do this (in the UK it would almost certainly be illegal, and if tried, the unions would refuse to comply) but, even more incredibly to me, most of the employees affected seem to think it's a good idea.

All these rules (hours, sick leave, etc.) are quite strictly enforced. The one card the employee does have up his or her sleeve is that very often, no notice period is required - you can just decide not to turn up for work one day. Hence, I suppose, the occasional dramatic scenes you see in American films where the employee announces 'I quit!', packs up his things, and strides out of the door. I think of Lester Burnham leaving his boring job on a magazine in American Beauty, or George W. Bush giving up work on the oil patch (as I believe it's called) in W. Not quite as dramatic as the British version, which would be 'Right! I'm giving you my contractual month's notice, which I will work in full as I need a good reference from you!'

At the same time, Oklahoma is enough of a hillbilly state to have a rather laid-back attitude to life. There's never any rush to get anything done or to get anywhere, and things can usually wait; so even though everyone spends a lot of time at work, they're not necessarily being very efficient or productive when they're there. It's rather like someone who keeps their house obsessively tidy, but then you discover stuff is crammed any-old-how into drawers and cupboards. I suppose it's a mixture of the Puritan work ethic and the slow, Southern way of life.

Vocabulary (2)

I really thought by now I must have discovered all the differences between British English and American English, but I've just discovered a new one. Americans do not use the construction 'double' (or 'triple') when reading out a number or spelling a name (eg. 'double zero' or 'double m'). They always say each digit or letter individually: 'zero zero', 'm m'. I've often wondered why I've had such trouble spelling the name of our road, which has two consecutive letter r's, over the phone. Now I know.

The grid system (2)

Regular readers of my blog - and I know there are some, so hello to you - may be interested to know that I've updated the post called 'The grid system' (19 Jan - now retitled 'The grid system (1)') as I had a few more observations and thoughts to make. Sorry, but I find this subject completely fascinating, even though I'm sure many of you don't!