Lassie's Not For The Dogs

I watched a movie last night.

I'm so far behind the times when it comes to pop culture, and movies in particular, that it's almost funny. Sometimes, my sons will tell me the plot of a movie they've seen in the theater. Good enough. I don't like being taken for a ride, emotionally, and that's precisely what movies do. They pull you into another reality. No, thanks, I'll just stay home.

For the record, I used to watch movies, and I even paid money to do so. But these days I have other things I'd rather do -- like watch Deadliest Catch or something on TLC or good ol' Red Green. Oh, and I see a LOT of movies. In their cases. At work.

But last night, I happened to be channel surfing as this one movie began, and the narrative hooked me. The voiceovers were the first sentences of college entrance essays. Huh, that's interesting. Reminds me of one of the blogs I like to read. By the time I found out the movie's title, I had decided to keep watching.

Now, back to the library. As I said, I handle many movies every day. I see all the covers. There's this one with a photo of a certain comic actor and a huge sandwich on the front. That movie would NEVER interest me. It's obviously about a goofy guy who eats weird food and for whom English is a learned language. Silly.

But this movie that hooked me last night had a few very poignant scenes. And some of the main characters were, uh, not wound up very tightly, to borrow a phrase. They were downright odd, disconnected, inarticulate, emotional, and dysfunctional. I grew to like them -- well, most of them. There was a coming-of-age theme that attracted me. The scenery and cinematography were interesting. I had to find out how this movie ended, and I enjoyed being taken for a ride. Imagine that!

If you have any more involvement in pop culture than me, you already know that the "ELL sandwich movie" and the college essay movie are one and the same. Guess I was wrong when I judged that movie by its cover. Huh.

Mourning

I've got a whole slew of cousins. We had a family reunion last summer for Dad's side of the family. But since it was held in the home town of Mom's side, we got to see some of them, too. This spring, one of the aunts passed away, and many of the Dad's side cousins met again. I left those events feeling very warm and nostalgic.

I've got boy cousins. Boys? Some of them are retired, for gosh sakes! But I remember thinking that I felt like all of them were nearly my brothers. Except with these brother-cousins, there were no memories of fights, taunting, or any disagreements. Every time we were together when I was a kid was a good time.

I guess I'd call the gals my sister-cousins, but I never had a sister so can't fully relate to that relationship. But all the girls are pretty cool, and that brings me to today's post.

Janet's girls are a bit younger than me, and we all had great times at the family beach place. It was almost like having younger sisters, except Janet was always good about making me feel as important as an adult -- so I got to play both sides of the net! Janet and her girls, and my mom and I, were spending spring vacation together at the beach when I was 12. That was the week that my mom got sick. Really sick. We didn't know what was wrong, but Janet kept everything going as if my mom's illness was just a minor inconvenience.

Turns out, my mom had had a major stroke. That was the last week of my normal life. What followed was weeks of Mom being in bed, her good friend the nurse taking care of us, Dad taking over the cooking and laundry, and Mom not being quite Mom. Years. Adjustments on top of adjustments. Adolescence. Not being a grown-up, not being a kid.

Janet, her girls, her husband, all welcomed me in their home for a week in the summers. Sightseeing, relaxing, fun, school shopping, wildflowers, projects, music, playing. Janet was the one who told me how important it was that I go away to college. Janet wasn't my mother, wasn't my sister, but was one whom I would have called a wonderful friend.

Rest with Jesus, Janet. I will always, always be thankful for what you put into my life.

My New Best Friend?

The dogs don't go shopping, so I had to go to pick out new pants for youngest, definitely growing, son. While choosing a checkout lane (this was Target, after all!) I said hello to a lady I know from the library. We made nice chit-chat, and I mentioned that the clothes were for my son's graduation.

"Oh... from grammar school?"

Okay, I love this lady, now and almost forever. She stands in stark contrast to the three (count 'em, THREE) patrons who have asked me if I'm expecting! They will never receive anything but standard treatment from me. She, on the other hand, could ask for the moon, and I'd do my best to provide it (for the normal 28 day check-out period, of course.)

Dogs Don't Do Laundry

A few years ago, I came home from doing errands and heard water running in the utility room. That was odd, because I knew Blackie had been alone, and she had never started a load of wash before. Oh, no... Turns out, the upstairs toilet had popped a hose, and water was streaming down the outside of the drainpipe and into the basement.

As attentive as the dogs are, they limit their helpfulness to cleaning up food bits. They really would never think of doing the laundry, vacuuming the stairs, or defrosting the freezer. These are things they would not ever conceive of doing.

There may be a couple of things that would never cross God's mind. Awful things. Things that His people actually tried out, but that He would never condone. I shudder to read this, or to post it for you to read, but here it is:

And they have built the high places of Topheth, which is in the valley of the son of Hinnom, to burn their sons and their daughters in the fire, which I did not command, and it did not come into My mind.

Just as there are ideas that God would never conceive, there are also thoughts which we are unable to originate.

But we speak God's wisdom in a mystery, the hidden wisdom, which God predestined before the ages to our glory; but just as it is written,
"Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard,
And which have not entered the heart of man,
All that God has prepared for those who love Him."
For to us God revealed them through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches all things, even the depths of God.

All things considered, I'm glad the dogs don't try to wash my clothes. And I'm thankful that there are things our God does not consider. But most amazing of all is the fact that, even though we cannot perceive the wisdom of God, He tells us all about it anyway!

Presidents as People

DISCLAIMER: The original illustration accompanying this post was a photo of Air Force One in flight. I replaced that photo with an image of the book jacket, but Bing still directs folks here to see the plane. Sorry... but you could stay and read...

Another good book jumped into my hands a while back. Air Force One, by Kenneth Walsh, gives recollections and impressions of every president who has relied on air travel during his term of office. (Should that read "every sitting president?") The book gives fascinating glimpses behind the formal facades of protocol and politics.

Among those men whose presidencies I personally recall, a few insights were significant to me. Gerald Ford, Everyman, wanted each of the stewards to serve him in turn so that he could get to know each of them better. Ronald Reagan maintained high standards of personal appearance, donning casual workout clothes in flight so that his suits wouldn't wrinkle. Bill Clinton was a night owl and loved to have an audience.

A few years ago, my family and I toured a retired presidential aircraft at the Boeing Museum of Flight. One of the anecdotes told by a docent stuck with me. Lyndon Johnson enjoyed every bit of control he could garner, and used a height-adjustable desk to his advantage. (Imagine sitting at the children's table while the President of the United States towers over you in his elevated chair!) He also liked to set the cabin's thermostat so that others might not get too comfortable. (The crew eventually disconnected the wiring so he only thought he was controlling it.)

Air Force One is a venue both private and public. The impressive plane has often been used as a stunning backdrop for photographs. When airborn, security measures were more relaxed than anywhere else the president could visit. Conversations flowed, meals were served, movies watched, and some social conventions could be dropped. This book is a wonderful introduction to the men who have held the most amazing position of power in the world.

Rufus Will Never Be a Nurse

It's too bad that Blackie is so old and immobile. Her performances as the family nanna are legend. Rufus, on the other paw, hides from the sound of illness. The best medicine he offers is a constant and thorough licking, which is not usually appreciated by the patient. That said, Rufus has done well as a nighttime companion, encouraging sleep and modeling it quite effectively.

I have always been afraid of the words "brain injury". The last seven months have brought one head injury and two concussions into our family experience. The first injury, a framing hammer falling on my son's head, did not result in a concussion but did require stitches in a foreign clinic. The second one, a concussion, was scary but that son healed quickly without complications. This third injury, to the third son, was much worse. Full emergency response, hours in a hospital emergency room, several days in the hospital, and now home. Thankfully, we have not seen significant personality changes or memory loss beyond what seems to be normal for a teenaged boy.

Okay, so now that we've covered each of the boys with a bonk on the head, we're ready to be done with this chapter. I realized during an outing yesterday that my sudden and absolute need to return to my son's side was either (a) mother's intuition or (b) an anxiety attack. It doesn't matter which it was, the effect was that I was compelled to cease all conversation, get in my car, and drive straight home. I didn't even bother to call first to check, I just had to be there.

Yes, I have been praying for my sons, before each event as well as after. God is ever present. Things happen. But God is good and He has ultimate control. He will not necessarily suspend the natural laws of the universe just so His children will not have to experience pain, but He is near. How can one make a logical argument for the sovereignty of God in the midst of emotional upheaval? For me, right now, that doesn't matter. I can't explain it, but I trust Him to carry us through the accidents of dropped hammers, slick floors, and uncontrollable skateboards. And more.

Even if Rufus can't wear a nurse's cap, God is there.

What's Tomorrow?

I've been working a lot of extra hours lately, and the dogs haven't been very happy about it. They like having me at home, sitting quietly with them or doing exciting things that involve going up and down the stairs. (Laundry has never seemed that interesting to me, but I guess there's always a chance we might come across a piece of raw meat or some stale cookies that need to be eaten.) Anyway, it must be boring to be stuck at home all day without Someone With Opposable Thumbs here for entertainment.

A couple of times, I have tried to tell the dogs that I would be home with them "tomorrow" and we'd play and nap and whatever then. But they don't have a concept of what tomorrow is, so my promise goes right over their furry heads. I meant well, but was unable to provide any consolation to my canine friends as I walked out the door to go to work again.

There's a story about some other folks who didn't fully grasp the concept of "tomorrow." These guys had a friend who said he had to go away, but would be back soon. When he went away, they couldn't go with him. He knew they would miss him terribly, but he had to leave -- really leave. It was going to look permanent, but he promised to return.

When he left, and they saw him go, they were absolutely convince that he was gone for good. Gone. Dead gone.

Another Link

Double meaning intended. One of the topics I often read about is blindness. Last fall, I saw a book by Stephen Kuusisto, a professor at the University of Iowa. The title grabbed my attention -- Eavesdropping: A Memoir of Blindness and Listening. He is a poet, and to me, poetry is like GrapeNuts. I can only partake of it in small batches, and it takes a long time to chew. But, the batches I read were very interesting, and I mulled over each of them for days before reading the next one.

Mr. Kuusisto also writes a blog, and he recently posted a link to an op-ed piece he wrote for the New York Times regarding the new governor of New York. This reads so well, so easily, that I wanted to share it with others. In my humble opinion, it's an excellent but succinct introduction to the world of blindness. Please give it a read and tell me what impresses you.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/14/opinion/14kuusisto.html?_r=2&ref=todayspaper&oref=slogin&oref=slogin

These Are Trained Professionals

Much of our time for the first several days in the "new" building was spent putting things on the shelves, looking at the boxes that remained, adjusting the items on the shelves, and then trying to fit the rest of the materials on the shelves. This meant a lot of shifting, accomplished by teams of two to six people, handful by handful, over and over. It's hard to stay focused when confronted by thousands of books, thousands of books, needing to be moved to another place on the shelves, thousands of books, handful by handful. Thousands of books, and more in boxes, needing to be placed on the shelves. It boggles the mind.

It reminded me of a video I saw many years ago. This should have been our professional training video, viewed before we set foot in the door of our new building. It's too bad we couldn't have watched it beforehand, but we came pretty close to the high standards of conduct and efficiency it portrays. Watch and learn...

Modern Marvels -- Library Edition

Much time and energy are now being consumed by the process of moving back into a remodeled and expanded library building. There just isn't enough "juice" left to hold onto more than one coherent thought, so how about we just give up and explore the new building? Since my camera phone is stinking slow and has pitiful-little memory, this is the only image I could capture. Just kidding. The decor of the remodel is very contemporary -- we auctioned off the dusty old nooks and crannies on Ebay -- and this is one of the outstanding features of the new look. There are six of these fabric art pieces suspended from the beams of our ceiling, hovering over librarians and patrons alike.

Another feature is the Great Hall, a wonderfully large open area in the center of the building. Here's a view looking north. You can also see a couple of the motherships in this photo. Impressive, eh? And in the background, the same beautiful windows we've always had, although the fire marshall required the removal of several of our prize fir trees.

It's exhausting and invigorating to move. There is a lot of work still to do, as we've only been in the building three days now. I'm not counting, but I think we are due to open to the public in less than a week... One of the exciting features in our revamped back room is a computerized check-in and sorting system. Several of the libaries already have these, but ours is the first to have windows for the public to be able to (kind of) watch what's happening when they slip their materials into the bookdrop. I haven't tried to take any photos of it yet, because the back room is full of boxes and carts and things we don't know what to do with yet. But there's a terrific video of the Really Huge Automated Materials Handling Process at our system-wide shipping facility. This video is quite interesting, so here it is: