I'm curious if anyone out there might have some advice for me.  For my birthday, I was given a gift allowing me to download an audio book from a website called Audible.  I'm super-excited to give this a try -- but to be honest, I don't have any real experience with audio books.

So I'm wondering:  Are there any special considerations for choosing an audio book?  Are there any particular authors out there who are especially enjoyable by audio?  In short:  Do you have any recommendations for how I should go about my first real audio book experience?

I'd appreciate any and all input that you might have for me.

Link: http://proverbs365.ericasp.com/

In light of this morning's headlines annoucing the results of yesterday's ice-hockey game between the United States and Canada (good news!) and yesterday's professional-basketball game between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Orlando Magic (bad news), I thought it might be interesting to copy today's post from my ongoing Proverbs 365 project:  P2204 - NHL vs. NBA.

Humility and the fear of the LORD bring wealth and honor and life (Proverbs 22:4).

Different sports have completely different cultures. The character qualities that are prized in golf (i.e. low profile, high self-confidence, clear-headedness) are completely different than the character qualities that are valued in American football (i.e. brash intimidation, team chemistry, sharply-channeled rage). And nowhere is this cultural contrast more clear, in my opinion, than in the differences between players from the National Basketball Association (NBA) and the National Hockey Leage (NHL). The NBA and NHL seasons overlap heavily. Both the NBA and the NHL have huge fan bases in North America (I enjoy both sports greatly, for the record). However, in spite of all the apparent similarities, NBA players and NHL players seem like they come from completely different planets, to hear them interviewed by the media. NBA culture seems to create players who usually come across as bragadocious, showy, territorial, and trash-talking. "I'm better than him." "In your face." "I got game and he don't." "He better get outta my face or I'm gonna throw him out." Many of the league's biggest stars are close personal friends with gangsta rappers (or occasionally even rappers themselves!). Throughout the past couple of seasons, two of the NBA's most dominant centers have developed an ongoing vendetta about who most deserves the nickname "Superman." It's just that kind of culture.

NHL culture, however, seems to create players who usually come across as very plain, unassuming, even-keeled, and "regular guy" (and not nearly as interesting as NBA players, in interviews!). Case in point: I recently read an on-line article about Ryan Miller, the goalie for the American men's ice-hockey team in the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver (who also plays in the NHL, of course), which underscored the cultural difference between hockey players and basketball players. Through the weeks leading up to the Olympics, Miler had been repeatedly hyped as the Americans' best chance for success at the Olympic games. However, in responding to the hype, the star goalie responded with typical hockey-culture candor:

"It's flattering when you hear that," Miller told ESPN.com. "I don't know how many photo sessions I've had with the American flag draped around me or behind me; it's bordering on ridiculous. You know, I'm one piece of the team. I understand the whole concept of a goalie being able to steal a game. In these tournaments, everyone starts to hype how a goalie can steal a game; just like the Stanley Cup playoffs, everybody starts to hype how a hot goalie can win you a Stanley Cup. But the team in front of you has to play solid, and the goalie almost always reflects the way his team is playing... You're not going to skate through a tournament or win a Stanley Cup without a team that's paying attention to detail," continued the Buffalo Sabres netminder. "So I'm going to try and hold up my end of the bargain and give my team a chance to win. And if I feel I've given them that opportunity, then I've done the best I can, and hopefully that's good enough."

It's crazy to notice the different vibes for these different sports, isn't it?!? They both have their advantages and disadvantages. As far as sports and cultures are concerned you can't really elevate one over the other. But in real life, the Proverbs would suggest, it's much better to be an "NHL player" than an "NBA player." A person can get much further in life -- in business, in relationships, in personal reputation -- if they can maintain the attitude of a humble, unimposing, magnanimous "NHL player," as opposed to the attitude of a prideful, self-promoting, chip-on-the-shoulder "NBA player." If an NBA player tried to take up ice-hockey and bring his NBA attitude into the NHL's locker rooms and arenas, he would be ostracized from the rest of the team, alienated from the fans (who seem to appreciate the NHL's humility factor, even if it does make for more boring interviews), and smashed out on the ice at every opportunity. And this really seems to be the way that the "real world" works, on issues of pride and humility. The proud are destroyed eventually, while humility and the fear of the LORD bring wealth and honor and life. Yes, if your basketball skills are up to snuff, you might want to work on your NBA persona and see how that works out for you, throughout the rest of your life. But if they're not (and let me assure you: they're probably not), I would recommend developing your NHL persona and letting that guide you.

It seems to me that there's an unspoken cultural code in the American Midwest, which subtly discourages the celebration of one's own birthday.  One can celebrate a friend's birthday, whole-heartedly and unashamedly; but to celebrate one's own birthday by throwing oneself a party -- or even by simply informing other people, "Today is my birthday" -- is considered selfish and uncouth.  Back in college, a friend of mine coined the term "Birthday Announcer" to describe the type of person who goes around proudly telling people that it's his birthday; and I knew exactly what he meant.  There's just a certain perception about these things, back where I come from.  Perhaps I'm overstating the American cultural position here, but it definitely seems like birthdays are meant to be held as some kind of loosely-kept secret.

The Dutch, on the other hand, are almost categorically "Birthday Announcers."  Birthday parties are usually organized by the birthday celebrant himself (or herself), and it's even common for someone to bake or buy their own birthday treats to share with friends at work or in school.  There's no shame in celebrating one's own birthday.  And while it's taken me awhile to get used to the cultural shift, I have to say that there's something nice about the Dutch way of doing things.  It makes sense, actually -- and it helps to alleviate any potential feelings of self-pity or disillusionment.  Quite awhile ago, I started admiring the Dutch tradition of unashamedly serving as one's own "Birthday Announcer."  But I've still had a hard time crossing that cultural barrier for myself...

Until this year.

I feel like it's a sign of my cultural integration that I'm finally going so far as step across the divide and become a "Birthday Announcer" myself.  Indeed, I'm not only announcing my birthday (coming up on the 26th of February) -- but I'm also throwing my own party, together with two other friends who happen to share birthdays within a week of my own.  This week, I sent out the following birthday invitation by e-mail...

Dear friends,

Once upon a time, there were three friends living in Amsterdam.  They were different in many ways:  one coming from the mountains of Colorado; one coming from the farmlands of Ohio; and one coming from the flatlands of Zuid Holland.  But in other ways, they were the same:  enjoying good food, good music, good stories, and good time together with friends.  As fate would have it, their birthdays all fell within nine days of each other.  So one day, they decided to celebrate their birthdays together, with a big party.  They prepared all kinds of good food, good music, and good stories, and they invited their friends to celebrate with them in the heart of Old Amsterdam.  And they lived happily ever after.  The End.

OK.  So that may not be the best story ever -- but it does get the point across that a very special Storytelling Triple-Birthday Extravaganza is being organized for Saturday, the 27th of February, starting at 19:00 at the [e-mail me or send me an e-mail if you really want to know the address, so I don't have to post it here as a matter of public record]… And you are hereby cordially invited to join us for the celebration!  Patricia Flynn, Ariënne van Leussen, and Eric Asp are the hosts / birthday celebrants, and we are really looking forward to a great party.  Like most parties, there will be time for simply chatting while sharing in drinks and snacks and birthday cake (remember:  this is a party involving the baking talents of both Ariënne van Leussen and Marci Asp!).  But in addition to this, we will also share in several rounds of storytelling.  Not readings, like you might find at a typical open microphone event, but oral storytelling.  Thus: no pre-arranged, carefully worded, written accounts, but rather spontaneous, random storytelling, like you might have heard around the fire 1000 years ago.  The idea came from the Mezrab Cultural Café here in Amsterdam -- where people regularly gather to share myths, fables, legends, remembrances, and personal anecdotes -- and it seemed like a fun idea for a birthday party.  Yes, of course, you could choose to share stories that involve the birthday celebrants (i.e. stories about Patricia, Ariënne, and/or Eric).  But this is by no means the only type of story allowed.  You could share an amusing story about something that happened to you on your way to the supermarket… or make up a legend about how the leopard got his spots… or tell a stylized version of a Bible story… or pass on a treasured family story about how your grandparents got married… The possibilities are nearly endless!  The specific form of the evening will be determined by those of you who come to celebrate with us.  We just want to spend time enjoying the company of good friends enjoying good stories.

So all that to say this:  please mark your calendar for Saturday, the 27th of February, starting at 19:00 and going until late (towards the end of the festivities, there may even be some dancing!).  If you wanted to bring a nice card or gift or bottle of something to drink, that would certainly be welcome.  But more than anything, we hope that you will be able to come with your stories and be a part of the fun.  We're looking forward to celebrating with you at the end of the month…

Patricia
Ariënne
Eric

And to show just how Dutch (and "Birthday Announcerish") I've become, I thought I might even go so far as to post the invitation (with the exception of the location information, to protect my friends' privacy) here on my blog, just to make sure that I haven't forgotten anyone.  If you'd like to come and celebrate with us, please let me know and I'll supply you with the rest of the information.  Forgive me, my Midwestern friends, if it seems that I've gone astray.  I promise that, on this particular point, it's only one day of the year. :-)

I thought I was done with this stage of life.  I thought I had moved on.  Yet here I am, Valentine's Weekend, and I've bought a silly little heart-themed teddy bear for a girl.

I feel so sheepish, as if I'm some kind of pawn of the greeting card corporations.  As if my love is somehow valid only if accompanied by a €2.49 teddy bear.  I feel like I've sold out, and I should be eternally ashamed of myself (not publicizing the fact on the internet!).  But what can I say?  If you would have seen what I saw this morning, I think you would have done the same thing.  You would have realized what a €2.49 teddy bear can mean to a girl.

It all started when I took Elliot and Olivia to school this morning.  Upon entering Elliot's classroom (together with Olivia), his classmate Marije immediately presented him with a cellophane-paper-wrapped gift of a white teddy bear holding a red heart inscribed with the words, "I love you."  There was also a hand-written note attached to the gift, which was signed "x x x kusjes (kisses) - Marije."  When I looked at Marije herself, I noticed that there were tears at the corners of her eyes -- so great was her excitement and anticipation tied up in the gift that she presented to my son.  It was simultaneously beautiful and heart-breaking to see how much energy had been tied up in that little teddy bear, which her mother confided had been sitting on her bedroom dresser for three weeks.  Fortunately, Elliot responded well, with a big smile, a "Dank je wel" (Thank you very much), and a warm hug.  Marije beamed, and Marije's mother gestured as if she was wiping a large quantity of sweat from her forehead in relief.  It was a pretty cute little Valentine's Day scene.

But then I noticed that the eyes of my own little five-year-old girl were welling up with big, crystalline tears.  Her lip was trembling.  Her face was crestfallen.  "What's wrong, Olivia?" I asked her.  "Why are you so sad?"

"Because I don't have anybody giving ME a little bear for Valentine's Day," she wailed.

Perhaps I should have anticipated such a response.  "Oh, Livvie-girl, don't be sad," I said.  "We can be happy for Elliot, and maybe you'll get something else for yourself later."  It was quickly dawning on me how precious a "silly little heart-themed teddy bear" can be to a five-year-old girl.  I wiped her tears and whispered her words of reassurance.  Elliot agreed that she could carry the little teddy bear that he had just been given down to her classroom before I took it home with me for the day.  So the crisis was averted.  Even so, as I was walking through the halls of the school, holding my little girl's hand and remembering her tears, I resolved to myself that I would intentionally cave to the "corporate pressures" as soon as possible and ask Olivia to be my Valentine, with some little plush trinket.  Yes, I felt a little bit foolish, standing at the cash register of the Blokker and exchanging my €2.49 for their little heart-themed teddy bear, which I would give to my daughter.  But as I thought about it, I realized that it's a great privilege that I have -- to capture the heart of a little five-year-old girl, who's still not embarrassed by demonstrations of affection from her father.

Indeed, €2.49 -- and its accompanying loss of dignity -- is a very small price to pay for such an opportunity.

Today I have the privilege of officiating a wedding for two dear friends from our church here in Amsterdam.  It's going to be a lot of fun.  In addition to the special joy of taking part in a beautiful ceremony to join two beautiful people, the occasion is also special because it affords me the opportunity to preach in one of the oldest, most storied ministry venues in old Amsterdam:  The English Reformed Church in the Begijnhof.

The church building dates back over 500 years.  English Pilgrims worshipped in the same sanctuary in the early 1600s, just prior to sailing for the New World aboard the Mayflower and settling at Plymouth Colony.  And today, I will get to perform a wedding in the same space!

[P.S. - 7 February 2010 - I thought it might be cool to also include a picture from the actual occasion.  Thanks to my friend Sergei Tserasiuk for this really cool photo of the action!]