Shannon Warren.com

According to a study conducted by Jan Brueckner at U.C. Irvine, people who live in the suburbs “have more friends, better community involvement and more frequent contact with their neighbours than urbanites who are wedged in side-by-side.” Story by Shannon Proudfoot about this study.

MY EXPERIENCE IN THE ‘BURBS

I suppose this does not surprise me. As a high school student I lived in Clear Lake (an affluent suburb of Houston). During those years I came to know and love my neighbors.

The people who lived near my family supported me and my ambitions, sometimes with their checkbooks, but very often they would step across the line of gesture and make a real investment in my life.

Next door lived Ron, a “baby-boomer” approaching retirement, who helped me build half a dozen physics projects in his garage workshop. Imagine that, he took several of his Saturday afternoons off and helped a teenager with his homework. What’s more is that during our time in his shop it was clear that he really cared about me. He helped me learn woodwork and a little bit of what it means to be a good man.

Across the street there was Jim. I remember him as this really neat family man who would often take the time to encourage me and shed a little light on my path. While I was in high school, he always took the time to brag on my clean car or on what a good job I had done mowing the lawn. Those little complements amount to a lot. Later on, when I was a freshman in college he gave me great career advice. Because he worked for SUN Microsystems his advice meant a lot to me as a fish in Computer Engineering. Maybe he realized that I was asking him questions about SUN in order to daydream or even to land a job, but that did not seem to bother him. He liked me and did not mind breaking from his day to talk.

The list should go on and on because Ron and Jim were not alone in their support. Both of those guys have lovely wives who treated me as one of their own, often greeting me with a hug and a snack when I dropped by. I never lacked for a mom in the suburbs.

Not that my parents failed me in any way, mind you. No one has better parents than I have. No one. The reality is — sorry Ms. Dole — that it does take a village to raise a child.

As a high school student, my village was in the suburbs. The men and women at my church, in my school and living in my neighborhood did a bang-up job. I hope my life will honor their investment.

The study mentioned earlier reinforces my experience. Its results challenge the accepted idea that suburban life is a socially alienating notion. That notion has inspired everything from the Academy Award-winning American Beauty to Harvard professor Robert Putnam’s book Bowling Alone. Proudfoot.

It even provides a little math formula for calculating the value of low population density (10% decrease in population density = 10% increase in neighborhood involvement). Cute.

A PARTIAL ENDORSEMENT

I like the idea of a promoting healthy suburbs filled with people who care about one another. It should be said, however, that there are some traits of suburbs which I am less than enamored with.

Last year, I posted an applicable quote by Rich Mullins on this site. Rich is one of my heroes in life and ministry, so his quotes mean a lot to me. Here it is again:

Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in your beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken.

(Emphasis added).

Rich’s criticism of the tendency of church-people to be isolationists seems to identify everything which is wrong with the suburbs. If the suburbs stand for thinning out the herd so that we can get to know our neighbors, I like them. If they stand for indulging bigoted worldviews for those people forced to live near cities, then I hate them.

It seems to me that in reality the suburbs stand for both. That is, they allow people to live in a less crowded setting AND to hide from people in demographics alternative to their own. Consequently, I can see how there will always be a love-hate feeling toward them.

FINDING A BALANCED VIEW

Nonetheless, the distinction between virtue and vice lies in the heart of man. Human action is the same whether noble or ignoble; i.e., living in the suburbs looks the same whether for right or wrong motives.

As for me, I currently live one and half miles from downtown Houston. I suppose that I known my neighbors, but not very well. We are all too busy to make any lasting investments in one another. The irony is that for this chapter in my life (studying for law school all the time) I’m pretty-okay with the strange tension between nearness and isolation.

I guess I feel like I’m too busy to invest myself in everyone near me. I realize that this is a selfish way to live, but I think my neighbors have a similar feeling. We’re not rude or unconcerned, we justâ?¦ wellâ?¦ busy.

A distinction needs to made as to the city’s benefits. I enjoy living in the city for different reasons than I did in Clear Lake. From my townhome I am five minutes from most of Houston’s treasures (MFAH, Hermann Park, Rice University, Minute Maid Park, the Zoo, Houston Grand Opera, etc.), many of which I attend on a regular basis. Not to mention how much stress I save by not commuting on I-10 or I-45 for eight hours a week.

In my view, a love of tolerance and diversity stand for virtue, and the city seems better able to nurture these than the suburbs. The tapestry of cultures in Houston are astonishing this city’s soul is made up of contributions made by a thousand different groups, our cuisine and nigh-spots are proof.

But this post is meant to give the suburbs their due. They are not void of diversity or cultural events, but knowing what the urban-setting does and does not provide seem to punctuate the suburb’s appeal.

I love the suburbs for what they are, a good place to raise a family and know your neighbor without giving up all urban conveniences. Provided that its inhabitants are not running from the joys of diversity they’re all right with me.

In conclusion, if you live in a suburb, why not walk next door and introduce yourself. I’ll try and do the same down hereâ?¦ that is, when my neighbors have the time.

These are fun times in Houston. The free market economy would appear to be bringing some really cool stuff to us in November by way of AT&T.

The following is an email I just sent my dad on the subject. He is looking to change mobile service and consolidate his telecommunication bills. I told him to hold off just a little bit longerâ?¦

It might be wise to put off your mobile phone search just a little bit longer. It would appear that we are about to see market competition heat up, which will be very beneficial for consumers. The attached article is from the WSJ on 10/26. I sent it to Tommy last week who happens to be in the market for a new phone/service provider too. It discusses Sprint’s difficulties in growing their customer base. They are about to roll out a series of initiatives to retain old customers and grab a few new ones.

* * *

As for your remaining telecommunication services, my advice is to stay uncommitted for now. As we discussed telecom’s trend toward convergence will be sweet. AT&T is preparing a big announcement down here in the city next month. I’m sure Sprint will not be far behind in Kingwood.

In these fun times keep in mind that we’ve come a long way. Granddad’s Southwestern Bell stories about the nature of fiber-optics back in the 60’s jumps to mind. At that time the light which fiber carried was very dangerous. When the Engineers introduced it to Granddad they told him that hey only has two chances to look into a fiber optic cable, “your left eye & your right eye”. Today, that little strand of cable can simultaneously carry 400 digital television signals, broadband internet, voice phone calls, and anything else we can compress into 1’s and 0’s.

The real breakthrough is that our telecom providers are now bringing fiber into our neighborhoods. When they do rest assured that our family will be the famed “Jones” with whom the rest of the block tries to keep pace!

Unfortunately, the slogan for today seems to be, “hurry up and wait”. November promises to be a fun month in Houston. I’ll let you know if see any developments on this topic in the coming weeks.

In conclusion, “Yeah, Capitalism!”

Along with a thousand other little changes I’ve made to this site this week, I’m changing my “Houston” post category to, “Houston.  It’s Worth It.”, in honor of our city’s unofficial slogan. 

Also, the Houston. It’s Worth It. website is pretty awesome.  You should check it out.

Richard Justice seems to think so.

O man, I love the off season!

Carlos would bring another 37 homers to the team. Think about that — 37 homers in 2006 would have gotten us into the playoffs. We would be going back to the World Series & the Cardinals would be at home.

What’s better is that it appears Carlos - a Panamanian by birth - really wants to play ball in Texas. Why? Apparently he has a ranch down here. How lucky for us?!

He would be one of many Astros with strong ties to Texas.

It is no secret that Berkman & Clemens are Texas natives. But it seems there is a broader philosophy in the General Manager’s office to recruit talented players from Texas — or at least to use Texas Pride as a selling point of playing here; e.g., Berkman, Clemens, Pettitte, Backe, Sampson, Albers.

Carlos, you would be in good company. So, let’s put the rumors to rest & get your signature on the dotted lineâ?¦ what do ya say? O ya, did I mention that Houston talks Spanglish with the best of them? Bienvenidos al Houston, mi casa es su casa.

I got a new Honda Element on Monday (pictures to come) and need to make up my mind on a license plate. So, I’ve narrowed down my favorites to these & I’m putting it to a vote*. Which one do you guys like? Leave me a comment.

Disclaimers:
*By “vote” I really mean, “input which I can ignore”

It seems like the first day of a vacation should be marked by anticipation. As a child, vacations were a fantastic joy.

I was seven or eight years old the first time I went to California, my family took a vacation to Disneyland that summer. Something about this seemed overwhelming & wonderful to me. Maybe it was the years of hype which a child is exposed to or the satisfaction of having been somewhere which others had spoken so highly. Whatever it was that excited me, it worked.

I could hardly sleep the night before the trip. In retrospect, this is really odd since we were going to travel (standby) all day long the next day to California. But I could not see the path for the destination, so sleep was a bit scare.

When dad came to wake me up the next morning, he snuck into the room & leaned over to get my attention. Little did he know that I had dreamt about the Disneyland all night long, and in my hurry to get to the Magic Kingdom I sprung up from flat on my back, simultaneously head-butting him in the nose. Dad was understandably caught of guard, “Shannon, what are you doing?!”

“Are we going to Disneyland?”

“Yes, but why’d you jump out of bed like that?”

“Sorryâ?¦ When do get to Disneyland?”

 

That day went on & on. We were bumped from flights & bounced from Lubbock to Albuquerque to Phoenix to the moon to LA. The planes were hot & crowded; when the flight attendant called our family’s name to be bumped one last time my heart was broken. We had to collect our things & leave the plane while everyone watched us.

“I’m never going to get to Disneyland.”

When we finally arrived in California it was too late to do anything productive (like go hang out with Goofy). I’m pretty sure we went to a neat restaurant, but not even that could distract me; I still had only one place on my mind.

 

The next morning we got up & walked to the front gate. Since we had a hotel across the street from the park we did not have to bother with parking. Instead we walked what seemed like an hour just to get to the ticket booth.

I remember that the main entrance has an obstructed view into the park. From the gate, all one could see was an embankment of bright flowers. I had no particular interest in flowers at the time, except even now I can remember looking at them. There was something about the California sun and those bright colors which made me feel loose & free. Like I was about to go into a place full of life.

Now here’s the most important part. Standing there, at the gate & behind the embankment, the finest moment of the trip was about to pass. Anticipation was about to expire. Whether the park lived up to the hype or not would no longer matter because my eyes would be opened to the reality of the place.

By the time we become adults we realize that Disneyland is nothing more than a well marketed amusement park with mediocre rides & over priced soft drinks. But a child still knows how to expect, to long for something. A child has not been broken of the belief that just around the embankment there lies a joy worth waiting for.

 

As the years have gone by I have hedged my expectations a bit. For example, when I go to Colorado Springs I know that there will be cool clean air & Pikes Peak, but I do not expect that my life will be changed by them.

Somehow — despite our expectations — these places do manage to change us. The difference, however, between the child and the adult is that of expectations not personal transformation. The child expects something unreasonable (lifelong happiness from an amusement park), and the adult is unwilling to expect anything for fear of disappointment.

In this way, adulthood seems to be more like a skill than a stage in life. Where the best “adults” are able to hide their emotions so as to not appear disappointed at any time. A well trained adult avoids the exposure of their thoughts to prevent the publicity of their naiveté.

 

Life in Houston has been rewarding of late. I work hard & play hard at school & church. I have friends & family that love me. My first house looks to be appreciating. Nonetheless, life is more that food, drink & shelter. It is more than academic progress & respect of peers.

When I moved to Houston in 1994 I had a Texas-sized chip on my shoulder. This boy from Lubbock was going to overcome my small-town past & conquer the big city. I left the wide open sky of West Texas for the pine trees & billboards of America’s third coast.

I guess that chip hasn’t ever come off my shoulder. Actually, I think I’ve become accustomed to having it around. The only thing is that somewhere along the line I became a third coast kid. I aggressively eliminated my small town accent & decided that a skyline was well served by a few skyscrapers.

Garrison Keller says that people from small towns work harder to pronounce French words correctly. Well, I do not know about French, but I took great joy that even the people in London could not tell what part of the U.S. I was from.

 

Tonight on my way to Waco I managed to come upon the crest of a hill at sunset. There were no clouds in the sky, no wild colors, no particular trick of lighting, but I was deeply moved at this new vista. I could see the full horizon at dusk and it made my heart sing.

Remember this, dusk is a sacred time for anyone from West Texas.

Ironically the very thing which draws criticism to the Great Plains, viz. flatness, is much loved by her residents. Flat open spaces make for a big sky. At dusk in West Texas you know your smallness. Looking around, the great dome presses down and nothing blocks your eyes from seeing into infinity.

Tonight, at the top of my hill, I could see the full horizon in every direction. Something about this very nearly brought me to tears. I was a child again, the sky was open.

 

This week I set out for the Rocky Mountains. Day one has taken me to Waco to see Jon & Christi Osborne at their new home. They have greeted me with joy and open arms and I suppose that if the whole trip were only to see that sunset & these friends it would have been worth it. But the path is much longer than that.

Day one is about remembering that life is not best lived inside the boundaries of safe expectations. In my case it would be safe to expect cultural richness in Santa Fe & world class snowboarding in Vail, but even these will fail me if I expect too much of them.

Rich Mullins said that if we look to our friendships for meaning and fulfillment we will ultimately destroy them. No human relationship can contain the breadth of life in even one human heart. Neither can a voyage.

But in Christ we come up against something which is entirely “other” from those things which disappoint. He is at one in the same time the answer to our questions and the questions themselves. In him we are free not to hedge our expectations.

Christ invites us to yearn deeper, to beg for more. He does not criticize us for expecting too much but, rather, too little. Or, that we’ve wanted things which will not satisfy.

When we open up our stories to His we experience life & that to the full. Not just “fire insurance” from Hell for ourselves or more balanced social justice for others, but a better life in the spirit of all the redeemed today.

So I’m called to open my story and trust that the well is deep enough for my greatest expectations. Christ will satisfy where others have failed.

As “Don’t Mess With Texas” turns 20, Chuck & a few of his friends want to remind us to keep our state clean.

Itâ??s fitting that the new celebrity-packed TV spots for the Donâ??t Mess with Texas 20th Anniversary first aired at the Cotton Bowl on January 2, 2006. The Donâ??t Mess with Texas campaign made its debut during the Cotton Bowl in 1986 with the first PSA featuring the late blues guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughan.

This yearâ??s spots feature some of todayâ??s hottest Real Texans. See Owen Wilson, Janine Turner, Lance Armstrong, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Los Lonely Boys, Chuck Norris, Erykah Badu, Lee Ann Womack, Julius Jones, Ray Benson and Matthew McConaughey spread the word of what they wouldnâ??t do.

One of the many ways I am spoiled (rotten) is by the consistent presence of art in my life. Heaven ordained that my left-brained father marry my right-brained mother. As a result, I came into the world with a love of both science & art.

This is part of who I am.

Anyway, as I posted once before, mom has taken up painting. My home is full of her art, but for Christmas I asked her for one large piece for my living room. She’s agreed but she wants me to pick out the colors & content of the painting.

This has proven to be an almost impossible task.

Last night Tom & I went to MFAH to look around. I several paintings that I really like on their walls, but none I’d be wild about on mine…

*Sigh*

In any case, here are the photos of the paintings I did like (please forgive me, some are blurry due to a lack of flash). I’ll post to this website when the Christmas painting is complete.

I can think of no greater sports event; my favorite sport, in my favorite city, my favorite team, sitting next to a great friend.

It was a perfect day in Houston for the first World Series Game in Texasâ?? history.

14 epic innings ended in a loss & a near certain end to the Astros bid for the World Series, but somehow I step away from that game with something to show for the pain.

The Astros fans showed what loyalty looks like by cheering when the team was down & looked to be out. They also stayed around. In fact, the game ended at 1:13am & most of the crowd remained present and loud.

Our Astros would not quit, they fought till the end & showed us why they got to the World Series to begin with.

The silver lining in the cloud is that the team is full of young talent & will have a bright future. Weâ??ll see if our owner will pony up and buy us a power hitter in the off season, but even without one our future is very bright.

[I realize these pictures are being posted in November, but I just had them developed!]

Here are some pictures from a fun study break with mom & dad at Hermann Park a couple weeks ago.

Pictures include the Japanese Garden & the main reflecting pond.