Today I attended my second funeral this year for someone named Gene. The first was for my friend Siobhan's grandfather. The second was for Gene Barrows, an elderly man I knew from church.
Most of us have been taught the principles of right living, but every now and then you meet someone who demonstrates how to live them. Gene was such a person. He was a physicist of vast intelligence, and one of his relatives commented today that he only seemed aware of matter at the atomic level. He never noticed whether clothes, cars, or houses were fancy or plain, cheap or expensive. If he measured people at all (which I don't think he did, frankly), it was by their heart.
Gene may not have been interested in things, but he cared a lot about people. When family members daydreamed about what they'd do with a million dollars, Gene declared he'd spend every cent helping his stepkids with their careers. In a Sunday school lesson, he once said that in the next life, the reward for those who have discovered the joy of service will be the ability to serve much more quickly and efficiently, and thus experience even greater joy.
Funerals are such bittersweet things. I feel for Gene's grieving family, yet I'm so grateful for all that I learned today about his life, and I'm excited that he's gone home to a place where he can learn and serve even more than he did here.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
American Values
About decades ago, I saw an image on the news that troubled me. A grown man was standing atop a Toyota, taking a sledge hammer to its hood as a small crowd cheered him on. The reporter called this pastime "Japan-bashing," and said it was growing in popularity.
You may recall that in the 1980s, most Americans assumed Japan was poised to take over the world. The Japanese seemed to be smarter and have a stronger work ethic than we did, and their high-quality products were steadily crowding out our homemade versions. American anxiety was understandable, but what bothered me was that people didn't respond by studying and working harder. They simply took out their frustration on an inanimate symbol of someone else's hard work and commitment to quality.
Fortunately, the car-smashing fad was relatively short-lived. I had always assumed that was because the Japan's financial bubble burst, and consequently it didn't knock us squarely off our superpower pedestal. I learned on the radio today that there was a little more to the story.
This afternoon, NPR aired a piece on the car manufacturer Toyota. Apparently many of the folks wielding sledge hammers years ago were American auto workers fearful of losing their jobs (as well as a fair number of politicians currying favor with the masses). Toyota executives responded to the Japan-bashing by stepping up plans to build factories among the very people that vilified them. By providing so many jobs in the U.S., they apparently allayed workers' fears of unemployment and the furor died down.
Fast forward two decades. American car makers are still struggling to compete with Japanese quality, and earlier this year Toyota finally supplanted GM as the top international car seller. There were no riots; no destruction of Corollas or Celicas. Apparently Americans don't mind mediocrity as long as it doesn't impact our bank accounts.
Japan may not have overtaken us yet, but sooner or later they or someone else will if Americans as a rule maintain a comfortable sense of entitlement, rather than the commitment to work and innovation that put us on top in the first place.
You may recall that in the 1980s, most Americans assumed Japan was poised to take over the world. The Japanese seemed to be smarter and have a stronger work ethic than we did, and their high-quality products were steadily crowding out our homemade versions. American anxiety was understandable, but what bothered me was that people didn't respond by studying and working harder. They simply took out their frustration on an inanimate symbol of someone else's hard work and commitment to quality.
Fortunately, the car-smashing fad was relatively short-lived. I had always assumed that was because the Japan's financial bubble burst, and consequently it didn't knock us squarely off our superpower pedestal. I learned on the radio today that there was a little more to the story.
This afternoon, NPR aired a piece on the car manufacturer Toyota. Apparently many of the folks wielding sledge hammers years ago were American auto workers fearful of losing their jobs (as well as a fair number of politicians currying favor with the masses). Toyota executives responded to the Japan-bashing by stepping up plans to build factories among the very people that vilified them. By providing so many jobs in the U.S., they apparently allayed workers' fears of unemployment and the furor died down.
Fast forward two decades. American car makers are still struggling to compete with Japanese quality, and earlier this year Toyota finally supplanted GM as the top international car seller. There were no riots; no destruction of Corollas or Celicas. Apparently Americans don't mind mediocrity as long as it doesn't impact our bank accounts.
Japan may not have overtaken us yet, but sooner or later they or someone else will if Americans as a rule maintain a comfortable sense of entitlement, rather than the commitment to work and innovation that put us on top in the first place.
Nature vs Nurture in the Pumpkin Patch
Our little family went to pumpkin patch together for the first time last night. Last year I just bought a couple pumpkins at the grocery store, and the year before that we were newly-minted newlyweds with too many boxes to unpack to deal with frills like jack-o-lanterns. I'm glad we all went together this year--it's just one of those family tradition-type things that makes me happy.
Speaking of family traditions, it’s interesting--when I was growing up, my dad always selected tall pumpkins because he likes carving long, thin faces. When Phillip picked up one short, squat pumpkin after another last night, I found myself thinking, “Wait—daddies are supposed to like tall pumpkins! Something’s wrong with this picture!” I quickly realized how illogical this train of thought was, but deep down, part of me still can’t figure out why there’s no tall pumpkin on our porch.
Speaking of family traditions, it’s interesting--when I was growing up, my dad always selected tall pumpkins because he likes carving long, thin faces. When Phillip picked up one short, squat pumpkin after another last night, I found myself thinking, “Wait—daddies are supposed to like tall pumpkins! Something’s wrong with this picture!” I quickly realized how illogical this train of thought was, but deep down, part of me still can’t figure out why there’s no tall pumpkin on our porch.
Monday, October 22, 2007
As Requested
Who am I to oppose the will of the people?
Unless, of course, the people want me to do an interpretive dance to the theme song of Mission Impossible, in which case the people are doomed to disappointment.Saturday, October 20, 2007
Water For Thought*
OPTIMIST: The glass is half full.
PESSIMIST: The glass is half empty.
REALIST: The glass is.
IDEALIST: The glass should be full.
FEMINIST: My glass seems less full than HIS glass.
ENVIRONMENTALIST: Save the water.
ANARCHIST: Break the glass!
CAPITALIST: Let's sell the glass.
CHEMIST: It's approximately 50% dihydrogen oxide, 40% nitrogen, and 10% oxygen.
*These quotes come from a shirt someone once gave my husband. Wish I could reproduce the cartoon faces that go with them - the environmentalist has really wild hair.
PESSIMIST: The glass is half empty.
REALIST: The glass is.
IDEALIST: The glass should be full.
FEMINIST: My glass seems less full than HIS glass.
ENVIRONMENTALIST: Save the water.
ANARCHIST: Break the glass!
CAPITALIST: Let's sell the glass.
CHEMIST: It's approximately 50% dihydrogen oxide, 40% nitrogen, and 10% oxygen.
*These quotes come from a shirt someone once gave my husband. Wish I could reproduce the cartoon faces that go with them - the environmentalist has really wild hair.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Lesson from a Nosedive
This afternoon, I glanced up just in time to see Joy lose her balance and plummet forehead-first toward the carpet. They probably heard that "BONK" as far east as Detroit. After the standard 1.7-second pause during which a toddler mentally registers that they're hurt and not happy about it, Joy started wailing while I did my best to comfort with hugs and few favorite toys. I found myself wondering why baby stores don't sell infant-sized helmets with full face guards in their childproofing sections.
I also got to thinking about the oft-used analogy that we should approach life like toddler learning to walk. Most people focus on the fact that babies don't let the frustration of mistakes deter them from their goal of walking. I think it's also significant to point out that learning to walk isn't just difficult and fraught with mistakes - it hurts! If Joy invested a dollar for every time she bopped a body part in the pursuit of mobility, we wouldn't have to save a cent for college.
What makes babies persevere despite all the bumps and tumbles? Is it because they have such short memories? Is it because they have no concept of failure, or simply that they don't yet care whether they fail at something that interests them? I would guess it's a combination of all those options.
As an adult, I can't simply forget that I have failed in the past and will no doubt fail at things in the future. However, I like Joy's example of making decisions based on interest and curiosity rather than fear. I'm better at that than I used to be, but I still have a little room for improvement.
I also got to thinking about the oft-used analogy that we should approach life like toddler learning to walk. Most people focus on the fact that babies don't let the frustration of mistakes deter them from their goal of walking. I think it's also significant to point out that learning to walk isn't just difficult and fraught with mistakes - it hurts! If Joy invested a dollar for every time she bopped a body part in the pursuit of mobility, we wouldn't have to save a cent for college.
What makes babies persevere despite all the bumps and tumbles? Is it because they have such short memories? Is it because they have no concept of failure, or simply that they don't yet care whether they fail at something that interests them? I would guess it's a combination of all those options.
As an adult, I can't simply forget that I have failed in the past and will no doubt fail at things in the future. However, I like Joy's example of making decisions based on interest and curiosity rather than fear. I'm better at that than I used to be, but I still have a little room for improvement.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Its Good to Know You're Grammer
I don't usually think of grammar lessons as entertainment, but this post's dry humor was rather amusing, in a sheik sort of way. :)
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