The age of the expert has ended.

I think the proliferation of blogs, websites, ezines, and other forms of electronic communication has finally killed the "expert". Now any of us can pose as an "expert", since it is difficult if not impossible to verify a person's true identity on line. Or, if we don't claim to be an expert, we can post on our blog about our experiences, our opinions, decisions, etc. Other people read them (sometimes). These rambling then take on a life of their own, since they are now "in print". Everything you read (besides ads and political speeches) has to be true, right? We were to believe our textbooks in school, so that inculcated a sense that printed information=correct information. No matter who wrote it.

Be careful on line. Be aware of who wrote the information you quote from websites. Be careful with books and tapes and radio and tv programs too. Ask yourself who this writer/actor/speaker is, and what their motivations are in providing this information. Is it information they gleaned from research and scientific trials? Is it gleaned from their own experiences? Is it quoted from others, who quoted it from others, who quoted it from others, until by mere repitition it seemed to become true, even when there is no truth in it?

Most importantly, "Be of sober spirit, be ON THE ALERT. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." When we are on the alert, we watch for things, we question what we see, we don't just ho-hum accept that things are normal unless something jumps out at us. We ask ourselves: "Is this the way things usually are, or is something different here?" We test things.

One important test we have as believers to ask the Spirit of Truth what He thinks of this information. If we sense in our hearts His unease with something, we need to be uneasy about it too. He may reveal to us the problem directly. Or we may need to do further research ourselves about a matter, or talk it over with a respected friend, seek further professional advice. Don't just let it go, and don't repeat something you are uneasy with. BE ALERT.

Virtual Reality Check

I have been fighting 2 bugaboos: pneumonia and Christmas shopping. I'm not sure which is more persistant! Because of the pneumonia, I have been doing a lot of my shopping in the Web. But there is a problem with shopping on the Web. You can't touch, feel, mash, mangle or stretch the goods, not to mention your inability to try things on. Just HOW are we expected to buy shoes that we can't try on? And who would want to buy shoes without trying them on?

But, if we could effectively integrate advanced virtual reality with the Web shopping experience, that would be a different story altogether! Can you imagine "trying" jeans on in the privacy of your own house? (I wonder if virtual jeans would split if you bent over in a too small pair?) Or "walking" around in a pair of $700 shoes? I could get excited about the possibilites of this idea!

Chances of it developing are slim. The retail marketers would not be happy about this. But it is an interesting thought.

Facebook, the old

A recent newspaper article lauded Facebook as a technology that was becoming passe. Even the Moms and Grandmoms were using it now, therefore it must be past its prime, the article claimed. The author was eagerly awaiting the dawn of the new "in" technology--which I presume the Moms and Grandmoms of the world would be clueless about, at least for some time.

The next part of the article then detailed Twitter as a technology of the Grandpop age. (35 and up). The teens, tweens, and college-aged were "twitter-challenged". (Not to be confused with Twitter-pated!). Perhaps the next BIG technology thing will be something that resolutely stays age-integrated. Something where all age groups can equally participate.

We are isolated enough in our electronic world. We need technology to integrate us, not subdivide us. What could that kind of positive communication technology look like?

The calendar won.

Enuff said.

Calendars

Enough of the tyranny of the calendar! We decided that if we don’t take the calendar by the horns (figuratively) it was going to rule us. So, we started scheduling (in pencil) the things WE want to do: take in Civil War sites, visit relatives and friends, etc. I’ve noticed some interesting effects of this:

1) Our calendar looks way more used
2) I feel busier, but more relaxed. I guess it is more stressful to always be thinking, “I should be doing X,” or “But I want to get Y done.” Now X and Y are on the calendar to get done, so I don’t have to beat myself up about not getting them done.
3) If I get a call “Can you do this project?” I can say freely yes or no. Since we coordinated what we wanted to accomplish, I don’t have to always check with John about what he had wanted to do/planned for that time.
4) It forced us to decide what we want to do.
5) It helps eliminate the necessity of thinking on our feet, then slapping our heads after making 2 commitments for the same day. If the day is full, the answer is no.
6) Since we put all the commitments on the family calendar, everyone knows where to look to see what is happening on a given day. That makes scheduling who gets the car easier, too!
7) Not everyone plans as far ahead as we find ourselves planning. Since weekends are prime real estate, most of our weekends are full for 3 months. When we call friends asking to see them 3 months before we are planning to come, the reactions are interesting! I think most feel sorry for us, that we are so busy. It’s not that we are so busy, but we want to be sure to accomplish what we think important, like seeing our friends.

The reason we use pencil: our plans are subject to change without our approval! We still live in a fallen world, and we don’t determine everything that happens in that world. Therefore, the unforeseen can happen. Writing in pencil reminds us the Lord is in control, and our plans are subject to Him.

“"I have to ask: Is there any industry not on the verge of federalization?" said Rep. John Kline (Minn.), the senior Republican on the committee.” Quoted from the Washington Post, July 22, 2009. (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/07/21/AR2009072103409.html?wpisrc=newsletter) That is an apt question for our time, Representative Kline. The article is about the federalizing of the student loan program, but the implications of his question reach much further than that.
When Nancy Reagan began her campaign to improve schools, we wondered if the national government belonged in the school business. When the Clintons began their health care initiative, we wondered if the national government belonged in the health care business. When the insurance companies were bailed out, we wondered if the national government belonged in the insurance industry. When the banking system was bailed out, we wondered about Uncle Sam, the banker. When the car companies were bailed out, we wondered if the government belonged in the board room. At least with the federalization of the student loan system, here is a time we don’t need to wonder about government competence. The government has shown itself to be very competent at arranging loans. But whether it should be doing so for our students is what we need to debate.

It isn't just the clothes.....

The National Park where I volunteer as a living history demonstrator works with the time period of 1710-1740. Many, many things are different about living in an era before the discovery of germs, medicines, polyester, electricity and mechinization. I try to explain the differences to the visitors that come through our Park. One way I do this is through wearing clothing that would have been appropriate to that time period. In doing some research about 17th and 18th century clothing, I realized that their entire concept of the most attractive bodyshape is different than ours. Way different. And they were willing to use the technology of the day to achieve it. Where today we use spandex to pull it all in, they used "scaffolding" or pads to made some parts stick out grotesquesly. It has been a fascinating study.

The interesting thought that I have been chewing on from this study: we all feel a need to "reform" the human. We aren't satisfied with humans as they are, so we will augment or eliminate some part of them; to make them more in the image of what WE would like them to be. This doesn't just apply to clothing: we try it with other parts of our basic makeup as well. We may decide that all emotion is a dangerous part of humanity, and that therefore the ideal human has no significant emotions. To further the injury we do to ourselves trying to follow that ideal, we then judge others based on it. We use our judgements to determine the relationship we maintain with the prejudged human.

The fashionable colonial women labored under dresses that could weigh up to 50 pounds. But that is lighter than the weight of expectations we put ourselves and others under.

I travel by car

PLINKY Prompts are a service that asks you daily questions in order to spark your creative writing. The prompt for today was "How do you get around?" My answer:

Living in the sticks leaves me with few options. I can commute to the nearby urban area on public transportation, but I can't get to the local grocery store or produce stand that way. It is too far to walk, the highways are unsafe for biking, and motorcycles are not an option for me.

It's all about perspective

We moved last week. As we were unloading our stuff, the neighborhood stray Husky came to supervise the proceedings. She was a beautiful animal, obviously well cared for, and obviously enjoying the bustle we created with vehicles coming and going, people milling around, and plentous opportunities for her to try to get into the house. We unloaded one dresser mirror into the garage, as the dresser hadn't arrived yet. Leaning against the wall, it gave a somewhat distorted view of the surroundings until you were very close to it. The husky was enthralled with the view of the doggie in the window. She would circle through all the activity, and return to gaze in the mirror. The next day, we moved the mirror inside, of course with her "help". She was absolutely fascinated when we pulled the mirror away from the wall. She ran behind the mirror and sniffed, returned to the front of the mirror and stared at the dog she saw, and ran behind to sniff again. We movers watched her confusion with amusement. We knew what was going on. But the husky couldn't figure it out.

Then came the moment when, to her, that dog got to go into the house. She had seen a dog in that mirror. She knew it was there. It got to go in the house. She was not allowed to go in.

Our relationship was never the same after that. The next morning, after spending the night on our porch, she was gone. In her eyes, another dog had been preferred, and let in the house.

Aren't we all like that sometimes? Something happens in our lives, and from our point of view, we are absolutely certain what it means. So we base our actions on what we "know". But we see through a glass darkly: we may have no more real information than the husky did. I think this is especially true when we are dealing with, or being dealt with by, God. So often His perspective and what He knows far outstrips our poor little brains. I wonder if He lovingly enjoys our attempts to figure things out, just like we enjoyed watching the husky trying to figure out the doggie in the mirror? I think, though, that He is often saddened by our refusal to trust that He knows what He is doing, and it is good for us. When we take off, like the husky did, He knows we are only heading for trouble.

My View

The trees in Spring blushed
With a glorious bright green flush.
While I slept with my eyes closed
They all went and donned their clothes!

FINALLY!!!!

WE Finally closed our house. It only took the moumental efforts of our realtor to get everything in order, and all parties to the table. Finally, at 8 pm the last document was signed and the keys were in our hands. So, I can't recommend the broker we worked with, in the end we got the house. Tomorrow morning at 7 the work starts on the house. I'll be glad to see how the duckling transforms, and will be glad to get my hands working there.

Feelings

Have you ever had a feeling as you were reaching into the back black corner of the closet to find that long lost "Something" that you may find "something" else? Like maybe something little, gray and furry that scurries? Wellllll,

In all our disorder of packing, we apparently let one of "that sort" into the house. She surprised me one morning by performing quite a dance on the exact piece of carpet beside my bed that I had just been intending to put my toes on. I decided to stay in bed for a bit more, rather than interrupt her (and risk bitten toes). She amused me that night by chewing on the already packed boxes beside my bed. We set a trap the next night, on my side of the bed. It detonated about 2 in the morning. The mouse escaped, apparently unharmed. My sleep didn't fare so well. I was up the rest of the night. The next night was the "Revenge of the Mouse": she kept climbing up the frame of the headboard, and would run (loudly) down the metal of the bedframe. She would create a "bang" with every hop. Again, no sleep for me.

We haven't heard from her in a couple of nights now. I wonder what she is plotting now?

Local Opinion Letter, Washington Post, April 19, 2009

washingtonpost.com > Metro



» Links to this article Sunday, April 19, 2009
WASHINGTON
The Livid Face of Security
I recently returned from touring Washington with a group of youngsters. Nice kids, all of them. We had the opportunity to experience Metro rides, stroll through museums and tour landmarks. I even had time to people-watch.
The people on the Metro were the standard commuter types I remembered from my days working in Washington. The college students were identifiable well before they got off at the American University stop. The partygoers enlivened the scene with their colorful outfits and even more colorful descriptions of their plans and exploits. The ranting street preachers were at their usual places, saying their usual things. The tourists, my group included, could be identified by the wide-eyed confusion with which we stared at maps and the area around us. But there was a new type in Washington, one that I hadn't encountered before: The Security Worker.
These ubiquitous folk are, of course, an unfortunate necessity given the current world climate. Many of them work at the various landmarks on the Mall and at other tourist spots in Washington. I understand that they do a dangerous and exacting job, as do all of the members of our local police forces. But I have never seen a local police officer scream at folks who don't follow the (un-posted) rules at a security checkpoint (as happened to us at the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center and at the National Museum of Natural History). And not just scream once, but scream until his face is livid red, and the people in question -- 12-year-old girls for whom English is their native language -- are reduced to tears. I have seen drill sergeants do that to people who willingly subject themselves to such treatment by enlisting, but never have I seen a police officer stoop to such undignified behavior.
Having it happen once could be excused as a bad day for that officer. But never did I see demonstrated among the security guards we encountered the graciousness you would expect to see in the epicenter of the greatest democracy on earth. This country is founded on the premise "that all men are created equal." Yet we now seem to have a two-tier system: the security forces and the plebes.
And many of these "plebes" don't even come from America. Many of these folks journey from across the globe, to see for themselves the outcome of the Great American Experiment. Having only rudimentary English skills, they are presented with a fusillade of unrecognizable commands shouted at an outrageous volume by people denying them access to where their maps told them to go and requiring them to jump through unspecified hoops to get there. What impression does a livid, screaming face make on the world that comes to our doorstep?
Our new administration in Washington is all about "change." Well, I'd like to see a change. I'd like to see our security forces better trained -- not only better trained in technical proficiency but better trained in the kind of self-control and courtesy that the local cop on the beat considers an important part of the arsenal of defense. I want to see visitors leave Washington with an elevated sense of the power of the people and a sense of wonder at how it can all happen. Who knows what could flower from that kind of impression, rather than the remembrance of an angry, red face above a uniform.
-- Deborah Lawton, King George, Va.

Moving Again

Moving Again

Sorting treasures, pitching trash,
Like squirrels in last year’s nut stash.
Filling brown cardboard receptacles
Oops, someone must have packed my spectacles.
I’m left with my life neatly tidied up,
In little brown cubes, marked “This side up.”

Tea Time

I like to use tea leaves.

Not for fortune telling, none of that!

But for the laughter the bitter brew brings.

I like to use tea leaves

The dark black kind for me.

Often clear herbals for friends

Whatever the difference means.

I like to use tea leaves

But never reuse them--oh please

If its is tea, make it strong for me.

Watching Someone Hurt

We have had a week of watching our Abby in pain. The situation is resolving, thankfully. I was struck by the helplessness of only being able to watch someone deal with severe pain. I could make suggestions, offer the comfort of a hand to hold, get water or blankets; but fundamentally I could do nothing to help her. She was the only one who could decide what to do. She was the one who had to deal with it.

As parents, we all know there will be a time when the little feet are grown up. We expect to see some milestones to prove that they are making their own decisions now: temptations resisted (or not), wise habits developed (or not), new directions they take their lives in. But I never thought one of those growth milestones would be shown by pain. I hadn't realized that how Abby choose to deal with pain would show me her growing up. I would have preferred other ways than to see her in such pain!

The flowers are out and Spring has sprung,
And on soft breezes the pollens come
Around my chair are kleenexes flung
When oh When will the pollen be done?

We bagged a house

Well, now we have a successful conclusion to the house stalking: We have an accepted contract on a house. However, the home will not be available for closing until May 4th, so we get to hurry up and wait 6 weeks.

Meanwhile, the real estate storm, er, market, in our area is impacting us in another way: the property we are renting is up for sale. So now the frenzied buyers are showing up at OUR doorstep, papers in hand, with a certain recognizable glazed look in their eyes. May your stalking be successful. We're out of the market!!!

Stalking the Elusive House

I know most people refer to the process of buying a house as "house hunting". But lately that phrase has sounded far too tame to describe the process our family has been enduring to procure living quarters. "House hunting" conjures up sleepy late afternoons in a comfortable perch waiting for the desired mammal to walk by, as it surely shall. "Stalking" involves peering through dense grass, guns at the ready for yet to be determined prey that may decide on you as their main course.

We started this odessey on Christmas day, when some Internet browsing caught some really good house prices in our area. We contacted a realtor, who promptly set up several houses for us to see. She said that as everyone already knew, the market was in terrible shape, with nothing moving. Nothing except the houses we were to look at. Between our contact and the day we went out looking, one of the houses on our menu developed a contract. After our first viewing, another of the group developed a contract. We looked at some other houses, which all developed contracts within 24 hours of our visitation. We looked a another, and decided to bid--only to learn that it had developed a contract while we decided. We got pre-approved for a mortgage (just in case we needed to act quickly). We found another house to look at--only to learn that in the hour it had been listed it had developed at least one contract. We bid on a house--only to learn that it had "multiple contracts" and eventually we learned our bid was declined. We saw our current option on a Tuesday, signed the bid on Wednesday, learned Friday that we were competing in a bidding war with at least one other contract, redid our offer on Monday (offering a higher price), and are waiting the outcome now. Will our hunt finally be successful?

Mr. President is of the opinion that the housing market is slow. I wouldn't want it any faster!

The house we currently rent is due to be listed on the market Thursday. The Wednesday before the house was listed, a realtor asked to show the house. We said yes. Now, if the market continues the way it has been developing, how soon will it be until this house sells?

In the beginning....

I just created my own blog! For some techno-savy individuals, that first may have occured long enough ago to generate boredom now. Not so for me: I am a very private individual. But one who likes to write, and comment or muse about what occurs around me, to me, and inside my head. This blog will be a place for sharing those comments, poems, stories or musings that choose to see light of day. I hope you enjoy them.