IVP - Strangely Dim - Rabbit

February 1, 2007


Something you should know about Lisa and me: for the better part of a year we've been playing a silly ongoing game that I learned from my brother.The game is simple: whoever says the word rabbit to the other first on the first day of each month, wins. To be honest, I've been secretly plotting this post since Lisa joined Strangely Dim.

My brother played this game in college with a classmate who happened to have the same last name, grow up in the same town and belong to the same church. I always enjoyed watching them play this little nonsense game from month to month, a regular opportunity to be silly together set against a backdrop of trying to track down your calling and be faithful to it. College, I found--and now life, I've since discovered--is hard enough that it virtually demands a bit of silliness now and then to take the edge off.

Lisa and I and our coworkers here seek out silliness in a variety of ways: by how we decorate our workspace, by which e-mails we choose to forward, by what subjects we deem blogworthy. My department takes a break together each week to eat popcorn and catch up (not "popcorn and ketchup" but "catch up and eat popcorn," in case you're inclined to podcast this entry). It's a nice time together, a kind of "tea and sympathy," and almost invariably the time is at least one part meaningful and one part silly. Sometimes the two are so commingled that I daresay the silliness is what gives the time meaning.

Likewise with the game "Rabbit." You're all welcome to play along; it's a nice distraction from month to month, much like rabbits themselves. They don't labor or spin; they just hop along and twitch their noses--they live and move and have their being. We could learn a lot from them, actually: I'll leave you with a line from an old folk song titled "Mr. Rabbit":

"Bless God, I'm made that way! Every little soul must shine."

Posted by Dave Zimmerman at February 1, 2007 8:15 AM Bookmark and Share


Popcorn and Ketchup:

I used to have a weekly babysitting job when I was in junior high and high school, looking after some kids who were not much younger than I. Every night we'd take an empty ice cube tray and fill each section with any condiment we could find (including things like ketchup, jelly, and parmesan cheese). Then we'd make popcorn (on the stovetop--she says, shifting her spectacles and twiddling her cane) and dip the pieces in the different flavours to see which we liked best. (We figured that out right away, but we still had to use all the same condiments every time. I guess that was OUR silly tradition.)

Comment by: Jenn at February 1, 2007 4:52 PM

I was reading Jenn's comment and thought she was going to say that she made iced condiment-pops. I'm so glad she didn't go there. Frozen steaksauce on a toothpick, anyone?

Comment by: Al Hsu at February 2, 2007 2:35 PM

Well, we might have done. I mean, it's not totally out of the realm of possibility or our imaginations (or yours either, Al, evidently). We also used to play a version of Pippi Longstocking's Don't-Touch-the-Floor game, where you try to navigate the circumference of a room solely by way of the furniture and appliances it contains, without any part of your anatomy touching the floor.

I'm pretty sure the parents would not have kept paying me if they knew about some of this stuff.

Comment by: Jenn at February 2, 2007 11:50 PM

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Behind the Strangeness

Lisa Rieck is a reader and writer who likes to discuss good ideas over hot drinks and gets inspired by the sky. She takes in all kinds of good ideas as a proofreader for InterVarsity Press.

Rebecca Larson is a writer/designer/creative type who has infiltrated IVP's web department, where she writes and edits online content. She enjoys a good pun and loves the smell of freshly printed books.

David A. Zimmerman is an editor for Likewise Books and a columnist for Burnside Writers Collective. He's written three books, most recently The Parable of the Unexpected Guest. Follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/unexpguest. Find his personal blog at loud-time.com.

Suanne Camfield is a publicist for InterVarsity Press and a freelance writer. She floats ungracefully between work, parenting and writing, and (much to her dismay) finds it impossible to read on a treadmill. She is a member of the Redbud Writers Guild and blogs at The Rough Cut.

Likewise Books from InterVarsity Press explore a thoughtful, active faith lived out in real time in the midst of an emerging culture.

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