Reminder to myself...

 It's been an interesting few months.  Covid, toilet paper shortages, a presdential election, stay at home orders, healthy friends dying, continual sniping at others on social media and TV, and on and on. 

My family has been fortunate through all of this--no virus (yet), continued financial resources, and more than adequate housing and necessities.  With extreme gratitude on one hand, on the other hand, I'm also aware of a constant low level of strain or disquiet. 

As with most people, we can't see our friends and family as we'd like.  We can't escape the contentiousness of the election and its aftermath.  We worry that we'll be an inadvertent carrier of Covid and/or that we'll contract it ourselves.  We need to run to the grocery store or the hardware store or anywhere but we have to weigh the real need as opposed to greater exposure.  

On the other hand, life gets a little less cluttered when you're forced to rein in your activities.  There is a bit more time for enjoying your current circumstances, taking stock of the life you've been living, being appreciative of the chance to connect with others when before it was taken for granted.  

As we move into winter, I'm worried that the holiday season and the cold will make people feel more isolated.  More people will be miserably sick and more will die.  There will be less sunshine, literally and figuratively, and just as more effort is needed to be happy, it is more difficult to summon the energy.

Of course, all the worries I have in general, I have for myself specifically too.  I'm aware of how lucky/blessed I've been and I'm aware of how my natural winter depression will make it tough to remember that.  I guess I'm writing this to remind myself.  

Quicksand, badgers and tacks

Childhood fears are common and unique to each of us.  One of the ironies of growing up in a safe neighborhood and secure family is that our fears tend to be a bit silly in retrospect.

You've maybe seen the meme that says, "When I was a kid, I thought quicksand was going to be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be."  It must have been all those Tarzan movies, maybe Gilligan's Island.  The quicksand was always cleverly hidden and waiting to foil the escape of the bad guy or provide a chance for the hero to rescue someone.

The scariest things in my childhood were badgers (not the University of Wisconsin kind) and stepping on tacks.  I haven't encountered either as an adult but I'm sure its only because I've been on alert for about 50 years now.  My vigilance started after it was rumored that a badger was seen in the neighborhood and one of the kids I was with told us that a badger could bite off a person's leg.  I think it was the same summer I stepped on a tack and I can still feel it going into the bottom of my foot.  It wasn't very painful but it was such a weird feeling it makes me grimace to think of it even now.

I'm relaxing a bit about the badgers now but still wear sturdy soled shoes.  No sense taking chances this late in the game.  

10 Lessons from a Road Trip

In the fall of 2018 I went on a long road trip. It lasted six weeks and covered a little over 8,000 miles. I learned a few things and feel compelled to share them.

1. I listened to over 10,000 songs. My thought is that no song needs to be more than three and a half minutes long. Maybe four minutes if you're writing the next "American Pie" or "Bohemian Rhapsody" But really, most songs rely on repetition after the two minute mark, and repeating it once is enough. Would you like me to repeat this paragraph 3 or 4 times. Nope, I didn't think so--songwriter's take note.

2. Pack snacks you like, not one's you think you should eat. That way, you won't have to throw out those slimy carrots or those inedible rice cakes.

3. If you're in Nevada, get gas and go to the bathroom when you have a chance.

4. People are kind, people are weird, people will smile in return, people like to help. Maybe I just got lucky and only met the best of the best--but to a person, everyone I met and interacted with, was polite and kind. They smiled back when I smiled at them. A few went out of their way to be helpful to me. Several brightened my day with their comments and talk. I'm not denying that there are some people who cause mayhem and violence and bad feelings--but my experience didn't include that.

5. The national parks are amazing and surely one of this nation's greatest treasures--individually and collectively. I made it to about 20 national parks and each one was well run, uniquely beautiful and sometimes breathtaking. I rarely ventured in past the roads there than short hikes and still was impressed with each one.

6. I loved my time alone, loved, loved, loved it but I was well aware that I had people at home waiting for my return. Being alone when you know you have someone to come home to makes all the difference.

7. GPS is great but sometimes you just have to look at a paper map to get a sense of where you are. And where you want to go.

8. Go your own speed--whether you're hiking, at a museum, eating alone in a restaurant, or driving on the LA freeways for the first time. Go your own speed and don't worry about what anyone will think.

9. Sometimes you're better off putting your camera/phone down and just looking.

10. Don't worry about how you look, I promise, someone will always look better and someone will always look worse. It just doesn't matter that much.

"Everybody Lies" the book about data

"Everybody Lies" is the title of a recent book by Seth Stephens-Davidowitz. The subtitle is "Big Data, New Data and What the Internet Can Tell Us About Who We Really Are". It's a quick and easy read and I found the subject fascinating both for the voyeuristic content as well as the implications and uses for the future of data analysis.

Stephens-Davidowitz analyzes massive amounts of data that he pulls from internet usage, primarily what people search for, and compares it with other databases. For example, he looked at how many people report they use condoms with the number of condoms sold. (There are far fewer condoms sold than people reporting they use them) He has a lot of examples like that, hence the title of the book.

What was particularly interesting to me was the rise and fall of specific searches after events. After the shooting in San Bernardino in December, 2015 the number of searches related to Muslims and negative words (words indicating harm, hate or revenge, terrorists, extremists)spiked. And then President Obama spoke about the attack in what was a well regarded message reminding Americans that this event did not mean Muslims were bad and exhorting us to treat each other fairly. The negative searches about Muslims spiked again. A couple of months later Obama spoke again but this time talked about Muslim Americans who were firefighters, doctors, soldiers and teachers. This time there was no increase in searches for negative terms regarding Muslims and in fact there was a spike in positive or neutral searches regarding Muslims.

The author explains this, "When we lecture angry people, the search data implies that their fury can grow. But subtly provoking people's curiosity, giving new information, and offering new images of the group that is stoking their rage may turn their thoughts in different, more positive directions."

This is important, especially as we confront people with radically different ideas than ours. There is too much violence, in word and deed, already. This is a better way to bridge the divide.

Breeder????

My hearing is not the best, well actually, it's pretty lousy.

So, situations occur...like the other day, I was being introduced to a woman. She said, "Oh, I've heard about you, you're quite the breeder". I thought it was an odd thing to say but that is what I heard so I responded, with a bit of a laugh, "Well, we do have four children, but I'm not sure I qualify as much of a breeder." My husband and the friend making the introductions were saying "No, reader, reader--not breeder" while the lady was looking at me like I was nuts. And my daughter, who is ever so sensitive to social miscues, just walked away shaking her head.

Sometimes I have whole conversations with people and haven't heard anything they said. This can be construed as laziness on my part but you can only say, "what" or "I can't hear you" so many times. In some situations, I do get lazy about trying to listen. This especially happens if I'm at a public event and I can't hear the speaker. I just quit trying and go off into my own thoughts. I find I also do this when I'm in a group of people and there are a lot of cross conversations.

One of my concerns is that when that as hearing becomes more difficult, I retreat more into my own world because its easier. I don't ask people to speak up, I don't fight to be "heard", I tire of trying to hear.

None of this is written to elicit any pity---I don't feel bad about it except that it precludes working as a private investigator or spy--both of which I've thought would be fun. Its hard to get good intel when you can't hear what the bad guys are saying.

The Grammy's of 2017

The outfits were too skimpy, too sparkly, too revealing, too oddly colorful, too outlandish--
what happened to just looking nice, wearing your good dress up clothes and not simply going for the outrageous look.

I can't really comment on the music as that, for the most part, left me behind two decades ago. Certainly many of the performers are talented but I can't listen to the music they make without cringing. That even goes for the new country stars--it all sounds so whiny to me. And this from someone who likes country music.

Some of the songs went on and on and on and I couldn't decipher a single word being said. Apparently several were political in tone but you couldn't prove it by me. Beyonce's thing was overblown and heavy on theatrics, less on music but the critics apparently loved it. I didn't get it.

Sometimes I feel more like an old fuddy dud than usual. And truly, while watching the Grammy Awards, I exhibited every caricature of a stuffed shirt. I tsk'd, I harrumphed, I snorted my derision, and I crowed repeatedly to my son how much better music was in "my day". I lifted my ear horn and squinted at the screen for almost two of the four hours of the show and then had had enough. Off I went to put on my nightcap and soothe myself with a little Johnny Cash. How did I get so old?

Hope in these times

For some of us, it's been tough to stay hopeful in these political times.

The rancor of the long campaign, the fear of the continued inability of congress to work together, the ongoing stoking of fear of people who practice a different religion (or none) or who weren't born here or have a different color of skin--all these weigh us down. The maddening rantings of the political commentators on both sides tire us out. Even the people who are happy with the election results continue to be angry. It can make a person want to take a Rip Van Winkle length nap.

But, I think politics are inevitable and important. I think democracy (or a republic as we have) is a superior form of government. I think these tough times are a natural part of the cycle of all societies. Our fortune in the United States is that the cycles are relatively short--our good times come around more often and our bad times don't last for decades. Sometimes when things are dark, it can be helpful to take a longer view.

These words from Melville's Moby Dick are as relevant today as when written in 1856.

"Take shelter from the storm; stay not too long in the sun. Prayer is the shelter from despair; good work for others is the obligation of joy at home."

...this life

I like cookbooks. I have too many cookbooks. I hardly ever use any of them and have never used a couple of them. And yet, like a child drawn to brightly colored cereal boxes on the lower shelves at the grocery stores, I'm drawn to them at the bookstores and I keep buying them, and like the boxes of cereal that sit on the shelf, tried but left to get stale, so do my cookbooks.

What they are is a symbol of the life I imagine I want to be living.

In my real life, the dishes are mismatched, the napkins are the cheapest I can buy, and you might have to fill your plate in the kitchen and carry it to the dining room table yourself. Most likely the meal will be one I've made a hundred, if not thousand, times before. There's a high probability it will contain ground beef and/or cream of something soup. Its a good day when I remember vegetables and a really good day when they're fresh (not canned or frozen).

I want to be a better cook. I want to produce pretty as a picture meals. I want to make each get together with friends a culinary event to remember. The cookbooks are full of possibilities. They are a subtle form of self help book -- buy this, read this, do this and this beautiful, tastefully arranged life can be yours.

Like all self help books, reading the book is enough isn't it? You don't really have to do the work.

Moral Panic

In his blog, "Slacktivist", Fred Clark wrote about the phenomena of moral panics in society. He cited the Salem Witch Trials as an example, a case where the "morality" or the fear that evil was threatening society was so strong a panic ensued and 14 women, 5 men and 2 dogs were put to death.

Mr. Clark feels a better phrase would be moral hysteria. Panic is an involuntary response while hysteria grows when certain choices are made. Those choices include accepting assertions as solid evidence without allowing oneself to look at any evidence to the contrary, the decision to embrace and perpetuate at least the emotional drama and most likely the verbal/written drama.

Regardless of which term we use, moral panic or moral hysteria, as we become a nation, really a world, with more and more access to information, to research-backed data, to facts, we have become no less susceptible to this. The fear is perpetuated by politicians, religious leaders, the NRA, some of the more sensational media sources, and any group that aims to marginalize others.

Currently, the victims of the this type of thinking are Syrian refugees, Muslims, illegal immigrants and even sex abusers. We've taken a little bit of fear and let it overwhelm our responsibility to look at the facts, blinded ourselves to evidence from all sides of each issue and let our desire to protect our loved ones see enemies in the unknown. We're encouraged to do this by well meaning people and by people who have a warped sense of right and wrong. Whatever the reason it lessens us individually and as a society.

Mr. Clark is a much clearer thinker and better writer and his blog can be found on the Patheos.com site under Slacktivist.

Fixing Up

Mr. Wonderful and I have a convenient capacity to live in, not quite ignorance, but a certain willful blindness, to the slow inevitable deterioration of our home. We've been known to not change dead light bulbs for weeks, let broken furniture stay broken if it holds our weight, and walk around the pail catching the leak in the ceiling for too long. We are not the kind of people who spend the weekend rearranging the shrubbery or reroofing the house or building decks or adding bathrooms. Occasionally we'll rouse ourselves and start talking about what needs to be done but then we decide to go out to eat and get home too late to start so there it sits.

BUT, another child is graduating and the pre-party fix up is in progress. The yard and "garden" got an overhaul, a new kitchen floor, some painting, carpets cleaned, light bulbs replaced--we're going all out.

The problem is that this is our last child so once this is done, what will ever get us to get stuff done again. Some of you are probably saying helpful things like just make a list and do one or two things a week but I know how we operate here. We'll look at the list and agree and go to the hardware store to get the supplies and then decide that as long as we're out and about we might as well get a bite to eat and then by the time we get home it will be too late to start....

Envy

I am almost 54 years old and sometimes I feel like a two and half year old saying, "I want, I want, its mine, I want it." When will I grow out of it, when will I mature, when will I be content, when will I learn?

The things I want aren't necessary and sometimes aren't even objects. I want decent affordable portable medical insurance so I'm not tied to my current job. I want a great backyard patio without mosquitos or overuse of chemicals, I want a canoe, I want more books, I want more time to read books, I want more people with whom to talk about books,I want new bedding, I want a new refrigerator with an ice-maker, I want to be debt free, I want, I want, I want.....

And then I start seeing what other people have and I want even more. This person's house is always clean and organized, this person has the library of my dreams, this person has a houseboat, this person got a huge bonus at work, this person has travelled so much more than me.. I want, I want, I want......

Aristotle says, "Envy is pain at the good fortune of others."

In the book, The Geography of Bliss, the writer, Joseph Epstein, is quoted from his writing on envy as saying, "Once unleashed, envy tends to diminish all in whom it takes possession."

And the Bible, in Proverbs 14:30, "A tranquil heart gives life to the flesh but envy makes the bones rot."

Strong words.

Envy. It is a beast that lurks within and must be guarded against. I know better. I have no excuse.

The Seven Year Old List

In 2007 I made a list of things to get done around the house--our current house. In its entirety, the list had six items on it, as follows:

1. fix stucco
2. fix brick in front
3. paint foyer
4. clean carpets and rugs
5. remove mildew and paint basement
6. clean attic

Six years later, I have crossed off one item, number four. We have paid someone else to clean the carpets and rugs (a few times). Either this is a list of herculean proportions that no one in their right mind could finish in six years or I am the laziest home owner in Red Wing.

I've met people that accomplish this much stuff in a weekend and still do laundry and cook their own food. You might be tempted to think that I've accomplished other things that have put me off the above list--perhaps another more global list:

1. achieve inner peace
2. achieve world peace

But, clearly, I haven't done that either.

So what have I been doing these past six years? Well, in my defense, I think a person shouldn't hurry up their laundry and their cooking all in one weekend--life is too short, spread it out over two weekends, heck, take a month. Then there's the kitchen clean up, the reading of the paper, putting gas in the car and work. All in all, the time has flown. Oh yeah, and throw in a heck of a lot of good times with family and friends, so many good books and music and a bit of dancing and traveling.

The house is still standing and who knows, we'll probably knock another thing off the list in the next six years

this country and praying, hmmm?

One morning, at our Bible Study group--we are five women who've been getting together at some un-godly time of the morning for more than fifteen years--when talking about prayer requests, someone said, "Pray for our country." And it struck me that I didn't know what that meant, what were we praying for.

The five women in this particular group had different political views and we were coming up to an election--so were we going to be praying for a Republican view or a Democrat's view, in effect canceling out each others prayers like we would each others votes. Were we praying that the United States would be richer than, stronger than, mightier than, smarter than other countries.

Were we praying that our country would believe as we did- middle class, middle aged, midwestern women who believed fairly simply but strongly in the overwhelmingly predominant faith of our families and communities.

Are we reminding ourselves to pray that God's will be done? How do we know it's not being done now, how will we know what it is when it is done--how is my discernment of God's will better than your discernment?

Sometimes the simplest of things can just set me going for quite a while.

I don't know what to pray for...for our country. And while I've spent probably far too much time thinking about this, I keep thinking about the Bible verse that says

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans." Romans 8:26

Commonplacing

Thomas Jefferson liked to spend time alone, reading and taking notes on what he read. He called it "commonplacing". I had never heard the term before so when I looked it up saw that it referred to copying passages or quotes from things you're reading and a commonplace book would be a notebook that you wrote them in.

I've been doing this for years but didn't know it had a name other than "oh, I better write this down so I don't forget it". As I've been cleaning the attic this weekend I've found some old notebooks and folders with bits and pieces of commonplacing in them. I definately tended toward the religious and absolute when I was younger. I'm not sure how I would characterize what I copy down now.

The Ipad and computers keep teasing with apps and programs that will lift and save the quote or text for you but I haven't really been able to do more than hightlight text yet. Regardless, I think the act of writing it down, copying the words and the author of the words, putting it side by side with the other jottings in my current commonplace book, is more satisfying, more real. It just feels good to write it down.

Now, Thomas Jefferson, when he was copying a passage, if he thought he could improve it, he would copy it with his changes included. I think you have to be Thomas Jefferson to get away with that.

Morale Booster.

I have a good job. Great supervisor, good co-workers, an employer that tries to do the right thing most often and clean, well lit, OSHA safe work conditions.

HOWEVER sometimes, I don't like my job so much and have to think of ways to make it tolerable.

I found a site on the internet that counts down the days to whatever you want so I have it counting down the days to retirement--5,390 as of today. I think that's only about fifteen years to go so you can see why that excites me.

We have a dead pool at work--nine of us have bet money ($5) on which famous people will die this year. It keeps us tuned in to the national news and puts a positive spin on cold and flu season.

And now I'm starting a new program to boost morale. Its called the Buck a F**k program. Everytime one of our clients or contacts swears at us we collect a buck. One day last week I earned four bucks. I haven't talked the powers that be into funding the program with real dollars yet but I just feel better knowing that I'm geting a little bonus for being cussed at.

Ok, enough whining. In 5390 days, all the people on my dead pool list might die and I'll be $45 richer from that and with my sunny personality, I will undoubtedly make a boatload of money on the Buck a F**k program--so I'll probably get to retire a month or two early. Hooray for me!!!!

Funerals--theirs and mine

Another visit to the funeral home tonight. I must be getting to that age. Its getting to be a regular thing. I'm not being flippant, its just something that I've noticed--especially when my daughter noted that she hadn't been to a funeral since her grandpa died a few years ago. It used to be something I could measure in years,, then months, now its every other month or so, and in a few years it will be monthly and then a few times a month and then who knows...

I've thought about my own funeral or memorial service--on my good days, I can even go along with calling it a celebration of life. Mostly I want good music, fun stories, and a few tears. But then, is it just me, or does everyone want to know that they are going to be missed.

That egotistical part of me wants wailing and keening and fighting over the ashes to alternate with laughing and vodka shots and pictures of all the fun my life has been. My kids can tell you all the lies I told them, John can tell you all the silly things I've been afraid of, friends can go on and on about how I always thought I was right no matter what the topic.

Living, dying, heaven, hell, other possibilities? Iris Dement, in her song, "Let the Mystery Be" says:

Everybody's wondering what and where they all come from
Everybody's worrying 'bout where they're gonna go
When the whole thing's done
Nobody knows for certain
And so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be.

Last night, at the bi-weekly Discussion on the Deck, which was mercifully moved inside due to the heat, the topic was heaven and hell. There were about 12-14 people present. I am fascinated by the variety of opinions. We were a pretty homogeneous group, all middle class, Midwesterners, all belonged to the same ELCA Lutheran church, all white, yet our thoughts on heaven and hell were different enough to keep us talking for a couple of hours.

Of course, we went off on a few tangents. People shared personal experiences, people listened, people encouraged each other and we laughed together. All in all, it was a good night. And it is exactly what will strengthen the faith community of First Lutheran. The topic was almost irrelevant.

I believe that worship is necessary, prayer essential and the churches that get their members interacting in small groups for whatever purpose--discussions, cooking, service projects, craft, study, softball etc., will find that those members will see their church as an integral part of their life--not just a Sunday morning obligation. It is the relationships.

oops!

I finished a posting that I had started in October of 2010 and clicked Publish Post--and the magic happened but the date stayed October--so look in October for the Ship of Fools for my most recent posting.

It is the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I actually started this last Sunday, with a different first sentence, of course. I've been thinking all week of things I'm thankful for. I don't want to overlook the major, really important things, like my family, friends, health, living in a peaceful neighborhood with money enough for my needs and most of my wants. These are truly important and I am deeply grateful for all of them.

However, I find myself being thankful too for some of the more mundane things in my life that don't often make it into my prayers of thanks. For example, when driving in lousy weather I am so thankful for having really good wiper blades and the white lines that are painted on the side of the road that let's us know where the edge is. I love, love, love having such a wide variety of music available through ITunes and Pandora and almost nothing makes me happier than listening to music while putzing around on the computer. The small pleasure of putting something warm on when I'm cold brings shivers of delight. Pizza cutter---went to Italy where they serve you a whole pizza uncut with no pizza cutter so I now have a new appreciation for the magic wheel.

Another thing that I'm thankful for is other people decorating their houses for Christmas (or any holiday) because they put in the effort for everyone to enjoy---and to me, it's never gaudy or garish or over the top. It's not an art exhibit--its like a child trying to put all their happy feelings about Christmas into one crayon drawing. Like the first grade artists, some people are just a bit more exuberant and some a bit more restrained. But either way, it's a lot of work, and they do it for everyone to enjoy and for that I'm thankful.

And I'm most truly grateful to the people who read this bog and keep encouraging me to write. Your kind words mean a lot to me.

What the heck?

math word problems
magnets
economics
plucking eyebrows and then drawing them on again
daylight savings time
people who aren't passing in the passing lane
E=mc2
computers/cell phones etc.
why Johnny Cash's birthday isn't a national holiday

There are so many things in life I don't understand. I try to take advantage of the information available out there about some topics, some I remember trying to learn about in school (a long time ago), some I think about again and again to no avail---there is just no bright light of understanding coming forth on certain things.

But other than the Johnny Cash National Holiday (well, and the slow driver's in the passing lane-but don't get me started) I don't really have to worry about these issues much. That's one of the nice things about not being a student. I was reminded of this when my daughter, a college student, sent this quote from one of her readings for Art History,

"...'art' will be best understood in its fullest sense as the instrumentality
or metalanguage of the museum's historiographical and psychical confabulations, as well as that confabulated world of objects itself."

What the heck? No wonder college kids drink.