SubscribeStar Saturday: Baccalaureate Service 2023

20 May 202319 May 2023 The Portly Politico2 Comments

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The following is the written version of the speech/sermon I’ll be giving at my school’s baccalaureate service tomorrow, Sunday, 20 May 2023. It pulls from the Scripture readings that students will make prior to my little sermonette, which are Proverbs 3:1-6, James 1:2-5, Psalm 20:1-5, Jeremiah 29:11, and Psalm 113. I also include Matthew 11:28-30 and Psalm 20:6 (and probably allude to several other verses that I do not reference directly).

Good evening families, faculty, staff, and graduates of the Class of 2023. You have worked hard to be sitting here today, and in six days you will get to sit again for another ceremony, during which your mother will probably cry and you will hear a dozen or so senior videos with the Trace Adkin’s song “You’re Gonna Miss This” (and probably Bill Joel’s “Vienna”).

But to get where you are today took a great deal of effort and struggle. Sometimes it was your parents doing the struggling, or your teachers, but ultimately, you had to get the work done. Your reward for your efforts is to build upon the foundation you have laid, and while I encourage you all to get some much-deserved rest, your work is only beginning.

While you have learned a plethora of facts, and learned how to perform elaborate titrations in Chemistry, and learned how to dissect a work of literature or a piece of poetry, you have also learned how to live. In learning all of these other skills and facts and figures, you have, in the process, learned what matters in life. And here is the big hint: it isn’t how to perform elaborate titrations in a chemistry lab.

Our purpose in this life is to praise and glorify God in all of our endeavors. Psalm 113 is a model for us: “From the rising of the sun to its going down; The Lord’s name is to be praised.”

“From the rising of the sun to its going down.” That’s a lot! Not exactly an easy task, is it? We are to praise and glorify God in all of our endeavors? Well, yes. Fortunately, we have God to Help us.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Grinding Down

13 May 202312 May 2023 The Portly Politico2 Comments

Does anyone else feel as though work has gotten more difficult lately? It seems as though as the academic year grinds towards its inevitable end, everything is getting busier—and harder.

Perhaps it’s the knowledge that soon—always, blessedly, soon—it will be summer, bringing unlimited freedom along with the heat, humidity, and mosquitos. Readers in normal careers—the ones that don’t get two months off every summer—probably don’t get pre-summer blues, because there’s never a break. Paradoxically, I suspect that the knowledge that I’ll have loads of free time soon makes the current slogger seem even sloggier.

Of course, it does get busy this time of year. If third quarter is the doldrums of the school year—the long, dark days of January and February, when everyone is in some form of waking hibernation—fourth quarter is the grand reawakening, full of concerts, plays, and multifarious other special events. Then it’s end-of-the-year banquets, awards ceremonies, baccalaureate services, graduations, and all the rest, blurring together into one glorious slurry of festivities and obligations.

I’ve actually been asked to speak at my school’s baccalaureate service this year, which is a huge honor, but which also necessitated rescheduling a book-signing event my cousin is putting together (new date is TBD). I’ll be posting my little sermon next Saturday, so you’ll actually have the opportunity to read it a day before I deliver it.

Regardless, I can sense burnout creeping in, as the days wear on and seem to get longer and longer (and start earlier and earlier). There’s a reason I’m writing about the toll of overwork this week, rather than continuing with the saga of my Washington, D.C. trip (the next episode is going to be awesome, by the way).

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Washington, D.C. Trip Part IV: Driving Miss Lindsey

6 May 202330 April 2023 The Portly PoliticoLeave a comment

After a beautiful, contemplative morning at Mount Vernon, we scurried onto the bus to head up to Capitol Hill. We had a scheduled meeting with Congressman Russell Fry (the man who unseated Tom Rice in the 2022 election), but due to some parental meddling, we also had a meeting with Senator Lindsey Graham, the senior senator from South Carolina. These meetings ended up being scheduled for the same time, so I found myself on the phone with Fry’s aid to sort out the particulars.

Our tour guide Denise was on edge because of the overlapping times, and was particularly concerned about us meeting with Fry on the steps on the House of Representatives side of the Capitol Building, then quickly relocating to the Senate steps. The distance is probably two or three football lengths—not a very far walk at all. Apparently, though, senators don’t like crossing over to the House side, because they’re somehow demigods.

Of course, she underestimated the kind of clout (and, likely, political donations) that our parents command, and pretty soon Miss Lindsey would be sashaying our way.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Washington, D.C. Trip Part III: Mount Vernon

29 April 202328 April 2023 The Portly PoliticoLeave a comment

After the debacle of children sliding down the Lincoln Memorial came much-needed rest. The long day of traveling was, in many ways, the easiest of our days in D.C. Thursday promised to be full of walking, but all those steps would be worth it.

Following our food service hotel breakfast—I’m a sucker for those hyper-yellow egg product scrambled “eggs” they serve at hotel continental breakfasts—we loaded the bus and headed for Mount Vernon, the home of our first President, George Washington.

The Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association maintains and preserves Mount Vernon. The Association is the nation’s first national historic preservation organization, and the oldest active patriotic society. Founded in 1853 after the founder’s mother witnessed the poor state of the home, the Association had raised $200,000 by 1858, with which it purchased the home and two hundred acres surrounding it. Following the ructions of the American Civil War, restoration work began, and continues to this day.

It is a gift to the American people to walk the grounds where George and Martha Washington resided. There’s something appealing, too, about the home and grounds being under the auspices of a private non-profit organization, rather than the National Park Service. It’s proof that private individuals sharing a common goal can often achieve more, and do it better and more efficiently, than the government can.

It was a crisp, sunny morning when we visited Mount Vernon, and it was easily the highlight of the trip, at least for me.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Washington, D.C. Trip Part II: Showdown at the Lincoln Memorial

22 April 202321 April 2023 The Portly Politico2 Comments

After a long bus ride and a whirlwind tour of two Smithsonians and the Spy Museum—and a hearty feast at Buca di Beppo—our merry band of wastrels and wine moms headed out on an evening tour of three memorials: the Korean War Memorial, the Vietnam War Memorial, and the Lincoln Memorial.

I first visited the Korean War Memorial on a high school band trip, and found it to be particularly arresting. The fuzzy images of soldiers crossing a battlefield have stuck with me ever since. It’s a testament to the power of a good memorial not only to honor the dead, but to highlight the hardships and tribulations they endured. The Korean War is the “forgotten war” of twentieth-century America, sandwiched as it was between the glory of the Second World War and the ignominy of the Vietnam War.

Apparently, I failed to capture any pictures of the Korean War Memorial (the image above is an addition to the Vietnam War Memorial), likely because I was a.) in quite, reverent awe while passing through the memorial and b.) calling down knuckleheads who ought to know to treat these memorials as quasi-sacred places, memorials worthy of silent dignity and respect.

That apparent lack of understanding of and respect for those who gave their lives was a recurring theme of the evening, and one that would result in some frustration and consternation on the part of yours portly.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Scramblin’

8 April 20235 April 2023 The Portly PoliticoLeave a comment

Last Saturday was the annual Lamar Egg Scramble. It also marked my first foray into the world of arts and crafts selling, as I obtained a vendor spot to attempt to sell some of my paintings.

I managed to land a vendor spot in exchange for playing the Taste of Lamar, so I was able to market test my paintings in a festival setting. While I’ve made a few private sales to family and friends, I’ve not had much success selling my paintings online.

Finally, I had the opportunity to discover if I’m just a delusional hack, or if there actually is a market for amateurish, Primitivist paintings of squids and landscapes.

It was an abject failure.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Spring Concert 2023 Postmortem

1 April 202329 March 2023 The Portly PoliticoLeave a comment

My Middle and High School Music Ensembles had their big Spring Concert this past Monday, 27 March 2023. Before their performances, my little school’s Dance and Choral classes gave their performances, so it was a jam-packed night of arts and entertainment. The visual arts were part of the fun, too, with displays of students’ artwork.

It was a long day, but extremely worthwhile. Few things bring me as much joy as hearing my students share their talents confidently and comfortably.

In the tradition of this blog and my music program, I’m going to breakdown the evening, focusing particularly (and naturally) on my two ensembles and their pieces.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Arizonan Sojourn, South Carolinian Dreams: And Other Adventures PDF

25 March 202319 March 2023 The Portly PoliticoLeave a comment

A quick blurb before today’s post: I’ve released my second book, Arizonan Sojourn, South Carolinian Dreams: And Other Adventures. It’s a collection of travel essays I’ve accumulated over the last four years, and it’s available now on Amazon.

Here’s where you can pick it up:

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B0BYV275TW/
Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B0BYRKG9MW/
Hardcover: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B0BYR7TZJD/
UK Paperback: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BYRKG9MW/

Pick up a copy today! Even sharing the above links is a huge help.

Or, you can subscribe to my SubscribeStar page at $5 a month or more and get access to the PDF right now!

Thank you for your support!

—TPP

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Today’s post is a SubscribeStar Saturday exclusive. Most Saturday posts are accessible with a subscribtion to my SubscribeStar page for $1 a month or more.

However, for this Saturday only, subscribers must be at the $5 level or higher. Why? Because I’m posting a PDF of my new book, Arizonan Sojourn, South Carolinian Dreams: And Other Adventures. That’s a $20 value, so I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask for a $5 a month subscription—do you? There are perks, after all, to paying a little extra—ding!

For a full rundown of everything your subscription gets, click here.

I finally released my second self-published book, Arizonan Sojourn, South Carolinian Dreams: And Other Adventures, and as a reward to $5 and higher subscribers (and as an inducement to my $1 a month subs to upgrade), you can get access to the PDF!

There’s not much else to say. Subscribe for $5 a month, and get access to the full book (as a PDF), plus Sunday Doodles and a bunch of other goodies.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: SCISA Music Festival 2023

18 March 202312 March 2023 The Portly Politico1 Comment

T.S. Eliot begins The Wasteland with the memorable line “April is the cruellest month….” It is, indeed, one of the busiest times of the year for yours portly, and while I love work, I love intentional, deliberate work. Hasty, panicked slapdashery is not my cup of coffee, but for many years, it was—by dent of necessity and my own personal shortcomings—a necessity.

In order to minimize that panicked rushing, I’ve forced myself to become incredibly organized. That, too, is born of necessity: with over twenty lessons each week, ladled atop my normal schedule of classes and my Town Council duties, requires that I keep a detailed schedule—and do a great deal of prep work in advance.

It took me into my thirty-eighth year of life to get it down—finally!—but I seem to have some semblance of a grasp on my schedule. If I could just find time to do the dishes, I’d be thrumming along like a well-worn-but-maintained performance engine, stretching those oil changes out a bit longer than proper, but getting the job done.

As for April, yes—it’s a hard month. March, however, is something of the rapid build-up, the grand accelerando into the end of the academic year. After the drowsiness of January and the yawning indolence of February, March, indeed, comes in, roaring, like a lion.

For you see, dear reader, it is in March that I embark—along with forty-odd students—on an annual pilgrimage to the University of South Carolina to engage in the South Carolina Independent School Association (SCISA) Music Festival. It’s an event that tests the very limits of my organizational and logistical skills (such as they are), but that work and preparation reap dividends in terms of musical experience for my students. It is an event that does more to sharpen their musical skills than any other throughout the year, and is second only to our major concerts in edifying their confidence as musicians.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Myrtle Beach 2023

11 March 202310 March 2023 The Portly PoliticoLeave a comment

In a time-honored tradition dating back to 2016—what glory days those were!—my older brother flew in from Indianapolis to run the Myrtle Beach Marathon. He ran the marathon in 2016, and in subsequent years ran the half-marathon. He was back in a big way in 2023, ready to conquer the race.

In the olden days, the whole family would make a weekend of it, but with my parents exhausted from our family trip to Disney World and my younger brother and his brood cash-strapped from the same, it ended up just being my brother and me (even his wife couldn’t make it!).

With our adventuring party thus reduced, my brother and I resolved to make the most of it—even in the midst of the gnarliest stench a Myrtle Beach condo could muster.

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The Portly Politico

One Southerner's unique, erudite, conservative perspective in a hectic world

Category: SubscribeStar Saturday