Random thoughts…
“Without the capacity to provide its own information, the mind drifts
into randomness.”
--Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
§ The Sergeant Major
and I have enjoyed the British television series “Downton Abbey”. We were late to the party so we watched
Season 1 via streaming Netflix. We await
the arrival of the CD’s of Season 2, although we were able to catch Episode 1
on Amazon Prime. We’ve closed our eyes
to Season 3 so far.
A number of pundits and critics have agonized over why this
series has become so popular. I think
part of the reason is what I call the “Back in the Box” syndrome. We’ve been exhorted to “Think Outside the Box”
for so long we’re weary of it. All it
seems to have produced is economic hardship, barbaric behavior—tattoos and
piercings run amok, bipolarization of our society, and this feeling of
apprehension about what disaster lies in wait.
We just want to get “back in the box” of order, civility, manners. No, the world of Downton Abbey is not a
perfect world—war, betrayal, blackmail, social unrest—all exist. But people don’t seem to use it as an excuse
to abandon all the rules at once, and start running around like chickens with
their heads cut off. Decorum still
counts.
§ Speaking of rules,
we now know for certain that Lance Armstrong broke them. And lied about it. That’s what bothers me the most I think. Perhaps it’s time to look at the rules. Is blood doping in order to enhance physical
performance any worse than the improvements nutrition, diet, and vitamin and
mineral supplements have brought us?
Maybe if we didn’t have the obsession of comparing today’s performances
with those of the past we wouldn’t be quite so righteous. I don’t think it’s fair to compare today’s
hitters to Babe Ruth. Did he have the
benefit of Nutrition and Strength coaches paid for by the team? Perhaps he did. Sorry.
I’m thinking outside the box already.
§ Monday was a
holiday for me so I got to spend some time on my new hobby—cooking. My five-year old grandson took his nap on the
couch while I went to the kitchen. When
he awoke his Mom was home and they began to chat. I was only half listening until I heard this:
Grandson: “Where’s
Grandpa?”
Daughter: “He’s
in the kitchen cooking supper.”
SILENCE
Daughter (laughing): “What
do you think? Should we be worried?”
Grandson: “No…let’s
just be confused.”
Good advice. No more
worries for me either. Better to just
stay confused. Healthier anyway.
§ Today’s news story
about a middle school teacher facing termination in Ohio has me both worried
and confused. Apparently she gave one of
her students some duct tape to fix her binder.
The student then shared the duct tape with several other students who
each put a strip across their mouths and asked the teacher to take a picture. She did so, and later posted it as a joke on
Facebook. (Yes, I know, no social media
allowed). This upset the Board of
Education badly. But the best line in
the article was the Board President asking the questions: “Why was there duct tape in the classroom? How did they [the students] come to have
access to it?”
I have several grandchildren in school and this raises lots
of questions: Are my grandchildren
really safe from duct tape? How do I
talk to them about duct tape? What if
another child’s parents allow him access to duct tape? How can I stop them from sharing? What if a stranger offers them duct
tape? What should they do if they are
accidentally exposed to duct tape? I
could go on but I won’t. I could say it’s
because of the idiots who run the schools these days, but that’s not entirely
fair. Truth be told, I thought the folks
who ran things when I was in school were idiots too.
§ Back to
cooking. I really am enjoying it. It has helped me focus. I’ve been a little bit better in other facets
of my life, including cleaning the kitchen.
You want to say, “I wish I’d done this before”, but that’s a waste of
time. If I should have done it before, I
would have done it before. As the Zen
saying goes, “When the student is ready, the teacher will come”. You have to be ready, or it won’t make sense.
§ Speaking of
ready. I’ve reached that magic age where
I’ve begun to think about all the things that went into arriving at this point,
and all the things I want to do before I hear the final whistle. Much of what I want to do yet is what I loved
to do when my world was young. Reading,
writing, studying something new.
Theaters, museums, libraries.
Music, Art, Dance, Literature.
These were my first loves, and I want them with me at the end. I’m content with the things I’ve done in
between—farmer, soldier, businessman.
But now I’m of a mind to go back to the beginning.
“Poetry and Hums aren’t things which you get, they’re things which get
you. And all you can do is to go where
they can find you.”
--Winnie the Pooh
