Buckle Up Buttercup!

Remember back in the day when wearing seat belts was optional? 

In fact, for us "men of a certain age", the cars we rode in and learned to drive during our first coming-of-age didn't even have seat belts. Now we strap the grand-girls into devices that remind me of something I once saw some cosmonaut in on his way to outer space. The cool thing is, the girls climb into these seats like that's what normal kids do. Of course they have something else we didn't have as kids--miniature TV screens playing their favorite programs.

Here's my point: for them it's just automatic; routine. The car doors open, they climb in. Dad straps one in and mom the other. Big sister yells at little sister because she has grabbed big sister's "special" (fill in the blank): toy, notebook, doll, book... The doors are closed. We stand waving and sighing as the tail-lights of the mini van disappear in the distance. We miss them already, but nap time is calling.

I recall the shift when cars not only came standard with seat belts, but with a warning light and a persistent dinging sound to remind us to buckle up. It didn't work. Hard-core seat belt haters figured out how to disable the warning signs.

The government in their relentless effort to save us from ourselves, put together a catchy campaign to encourage us all to adopt seat belts as normal operating procedure. Remember the little song that was a part of the campaign:

It didn't catch on in a behavior modification kind of way. So laws were passed and tickets were issued. You know the slogan: "Click It or Ticket."

A good thing happened for me once I adopted a Click-It lifestyle. My life got simpler. You see there was a time when it was a decision-making quagmire every time I got into the car. Should I buckle up or not? I'm only going to the grocery store! As if wrecks never happen between your home and the grocery store. I'm not getting on a highway, so my top speed will be 38 or so. How much damage can I do at that speed?

Back to my point. The grand-girls don't have that quandary. They just climb in and buckle up. The don't have to waste brain power on that decision. They can save that mental energy for arguing important issues like who had the doll first.

I'm reading a book right now called, Daily Rituals: How Artists Work, by Mason Currey. It is a summary of the work and life habits of famous artists, musicians, writers, philosophers, etc. gathered from their journals and letters. What I'm learning is that rituals, routines and habits don't necessarily make life boring and predictable, but can in fact free us to be more creative. Sort of like when I stopped wasting time over that silly seat belt decision.

Now, I just buckle up and save my decision-making powers for important, life-decisions, like: should I stop at Starbucks®, drive-thru or go-in, banana-walnut bread or not, eat it all or save half for later, cash or credit, if I use credit what do I say to my Amazing-Missus when she sees the charge come through and deduces that my total charge is exactly the cost of a tall dark roast, black, and a piece of delicious, carb-laden, banana-walnut bread?

Can You See From Where You Are?

I HOPE YOU SAW the segment on 60 Minutes last Sunday night, reported by Wynton Marsalis. The segment was called The Virtuoso: Marcus Roberts. Here's a link to the video in case you missed it.

Marcus Roberts (CBS News)

The story begins:

Marcus Roberts lost his sight as a child, but gained incredible insight into American music -- inspiring a generation of jazz musicians. Marcus went blind when he was 5 years old. And soon began trying to make sense of life in the darkness. He was unusually curious, and even tore his toys apart just to find out how they worked. Roberts developed a powerful, analytical intelligence, capable of producing music that will move your mind as well as your body. The story of his genius begins with a precious gift from his parents: a piano. His mother Coretta is sightless too, blinded by glaucoma. She remembers the pain of having to leave school in the seventh grade because she couldn't see the blackboard.

Don't you marvel? Think of these people who are sightless, but have such keen insight. One of those people, Helen Keller, reminds us that there is something worse than being sightless:

It is a terrible thing to see and have no vision. -- Helen Keller

I couldn't resist adding this photo of our grand-girl Harper. I don't know what she is imagining seeing through her "binoculars" (upside-down, no less), but clearly, whatever it is, is magnificent.

As we age, we seem to lose our vision. I'm not talking about our eyesight, although that happens too. But let's face it; we do NOT see the things a young child or a blind jazz musician does.

My dad will be 90 soon. He has lost most of his eyesight, but it seems to me like he "sees" more than he ever has, and he has always been an insightful man. So maybe there's hope for me. Maybe I won't become visionless. I want to look through the binoculars, or the camera, or the lament of the Blues, or a quiet Saturday morning enjoying a good, strong cup of coffee and the company of my Amazing-Missus, and SEE something I've never seen before.

And ultimately, there is that promise. Remember the verse? “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him.” 

Several years ago now, death came way too soon for my cousin, "Bobby." He always had a toughness and swagger than I admired as a little kid looking up to him. He seemed to see things I couldn't. At his memorial service, he wanted a certain song played. I've never heard it played at a funeral since. Maybe it was just apropos for Bobby. It goes like this:

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone, 
I can see all obstacles in my way 
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind 
It’s gonna be a bright, bright 
Sun-Shiny day. 

I think I can make it now, the pain is gone 
All of the bad feelings have disappeared 
Here is the rainbow I’ve been praying for 
It’s gonna be a bright, bright 
Sun-Shiny day. 

A Little Help From Mother Goose

A FEW HAVE ASKED, "Where were you trying to go with that Anthropo-whatever-ism post?

Who knows? My mind tends to wander and wonder. Let me quickly add in the wonderful words of J.R.R. Tolkien, "All who wander are not lost."

It all started with just some thinking about that word: anthropomorphism. And that lead to thinking about how it is so apparent and powerful in our everyday lives. Take the timelessness of Mother Goose for example:

THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE

karlee,pops & mother goose

Hey diddle, diddle!
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

I hope you are not plagued with that literal-minded curse that causes people to scoff at a fiddle-playing cat and a dish and spoon growing arms and hands and legs so they can run away together.

I couldn't resist adding a few photos of Karlee and me, under the guise of showing just how engaging the old Mother and her words can be even for a precocious four year-old in the 21st century. Just look at the enchantment. Remember, this is not a tablet we're looking at, it's a book. There are very few pictures, only illustrations, and black and white at that. 

There is just something that is compelling about those melodramatic three little kittens who lost their mittens? 

And anthropomorphism isn't just for kids and kids at heart. Remember how we were first enticed to taste a Twinkie®?

And then when we needed relief, we knew that we could trust our little friend Speedy®.

See, isn't anthropomorphism fun? And I didn't even slide into theology this time. Oh, but the places we could go!

One More Time...

 (a continuation of sorts from the last post)

A couple of posts back I quoted G.K. Chesterton. I'm including here in case you missed it:

"But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic monotony that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never gotten tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”

Yesterday we spent some wonderful time with family, most of it at the Gaylord-Pickens Museum in Oklahoma City. 

Pardon a bit of brazen bragging. Our first-born, Corey, has an exhibit currently on display there. A while back he embarked on a year-long project to create a poster a day for 366 days. The project is called the "Daily Artifact." You can see it at the Gaylord-Pickens until April 5.

While you are there, take time to tour the Oklahoma Heritage Museum which is a part of the Gaylord-Pickens. One of the cool things there is a "dress-up" room for kids. The kids can choose to be folk musicians, astronauts, ballerinas (or as our two-year old grand-girl calls them "rina-rinas"), a Miss America and more roles that are a part of Oklahoma's culture.

So, as a follow up to the last post on the value of creativity and Chesterton's warning about sinning and growing old: don't forget to play, or make something.