Brazilian Cleaning Solutions

     This morning, a family of Brazilians walked into my house. In some ways it was humorous. I saw the decal-ed van pull into our street after missing our driveway The doorbell rang, and I was naively expecting a group of four women to walk into our house, cleaning gloves on and ready to get to work. Instead one-by-one the oldest son, followed by the father, mother, daughter and youngest son all marched in prepped with their cleaning equipment ready to scope out the house and being work. It was funny and strange to see a family come into your house, meanwhile you're the only member of your family home and thus required to keep watch all while this new family now cleans up your families mess. It just seemed off.
     My mom loves Groupon and found this cleaning solutions company for a one hour service. On the actual coupon it said "One Four Hour Cleaning Service," so when she said "one hour" I assumed there would be four people instead of one - seemed logical in my head.    
     When they walked in, I asked if it would be easier to come in through the garage, to which I was met with either blank stares, no look whatsoever, or the oldest son replying "Uh..." Due to the language barrier there really wasn't going to be any communicating with this group. Honestly, I was a little concerned with something being broken or stolen. And not because they weren't white - but because they weren't my family. I was the outsider in my own home!
     I felt worlds away from where they were. Here was this family cleaning up my family's mess, while the rest of my family members are going on with their lives, leaving these menial tasks to individuals who would be willing to perform them. How privileged can I be?
     Today I'm getting over a little sickness and so I had to go get rid of some phlegm in the kitchen trashcan when I realized the mother staring at our pantry. She was on the floor, bucket of cleaning supplies next to her, seated with her legs tucked under hear leaning to the side just staring. I at first wondered "What could be so fascinating about our pantry or the pictures and letters and fortune-cookie fortunes that could only mean anything to our family?"
     There was one picture though on that pantry that was higher than the others at which her gaze seemed to rest. It was of Pope Francis.

Immediately I felt connected to her. Connected to all of this family. They were my family. I realize this sounds strange and sappy, but a calm fell over me. We may never be able to verbally communicate, however this one figure, and the greater faith for which he stands, connected her (and in essence her family) and I in that moment. Pretty powerful if you ask me.
     As they left, I offered a "Thank you" and "Have a great day!" No response, just smiles as they left. Who knows where they're going now or what they're doing. But in that moment, we were connected. We were. We are the same.  

Denim Dilemma

      You know what I've never been able to find? The perfect pair of jeans. I've come pretty close, but still not perfect. They're my blue, now-faded Levi 511s. I love them. I've got another pair in black - same size, yet they just aren't the same as my original blue ones. You'd think there wouldn't be anything different with the fit of a blue 511 vs. a black 511, both 32x30, right? Wrong. The black ones have a wider straight cut leg. Weird.
       I've had pairs from Express, Abercrombie & Fitch, Hollister, Guess, nothing has won me over. Secretly, or maybe not so secret, I wish I looked like one of those Abercrombie models. Will my jeans make me look that way? Oh no. Any piece of clothing can make you look good on the outside, but show some skin and it's still your body. Great...
       Flip through a GQ and of course I'm going to see at least one model wearing the perfectly fitting pair of jeans. Maybe it's my body. Do I just not fit model standards? Here's the big kicker most likely - I don't have the money to spend on an excellent pair of jeans. Diesel is my desirable denim company. However, there's no way I can afford a decent pair, or even one leg of Diesel jeans.
       Pants are arguably my favorite of all items to wear, second to swimsuits. I will not buy a pair unless they are worth the cost. I learned that the hard way. Sometimes it was the other way around. I used the cost to justify the fit, or lack-there-of.
      All these brands though are huge companies that mass produce their jeans. Anyone know of a smaller, more personal company through whom I could get the perfect pair? I know they're going to be expensive, but maybe it's about time I bit the bullet and paid more for that one pair I will wear into the ground.

Sunday Candy by Chance the Rapper

     This song came across the strangest of my media waves - it was posted by a friend of mine on the Oblation: Liturgy and Life blog of the University of Notre Dame. Madeline wrote this post making the assertion that Chance is "Eucharistizing Sexuality." In my infinite cynicism, I was determined to dive deeper into the lyrics to determine if her claims were valid or naive.
     At first listen, the refrain is the first piece to stand out. "You gotta move it slowly/ take and eat my body like it's holy." And "come on in this house, cause it's gonna rain." Pretty sexual, right? Nope. I've been listening and and re-listening to this song, reading over the lyrics, trying to understand what Chance is really saying (well, singing/rapping, what-have-you). Turns out I'm the naive one. The song glorifies his grandmother, a matriarch and religious paragon of the south-side Chicago family.

     If you have the chance, read Madeline's piece in the link above - she only focuses really on a deeper meaning of the refrain lyrics, but it is quite an interesting view I appreciate. Now, let's actually talk about this music video - just needed to establish a background for you all with the lyrics.
     I've never watched or heard any of Chance's other songs, and this video is a real fun complement to "Sunday Candy." Though the verses serve as an ode to his grandmother, the interaction and relationship on-screen is with Jamila Woods' character. This may have been the cause of my naiveté because what I'm seeing is not what the lyrics express. The choreography is quick and the dancers bring the energy to the video Chance's countenance initially lacks.

     Overall it's a fun video - I honestly don't have a whole lot to say about it. It's not that stimulating of a video. I'd rather listen to the song than use the data to watch the video, but it's a decent addition. If this was in fact shot all in one take, I am extremely impressed with the camera work, the crew and the performers. Good work, people.
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