Redbox

By G. E. Shuman

I’m sure you all have noticed the several big red boxes which have popped up in our area lately. I’m also pretty sure you’ve used one by now, or at least know what those red boxes are for. If you have no idea what they do, which is about as likely as your not knowing what seat belts do, well, this is what they do. You stand in front of the big Redbox and use its touch screen to pick a DVD movie you would like to rent. Then you swipe your credit card on the machine and it dispenses your movie, all for just a dollar, plus tax.

Personally, I think Redbox is a great idea! It is a novel, inexpensive, convenient way to rent a video. And I like novel, inexpensive, convenient things, especially the inexpensive part. The people who invented Redbox must be very imaginative thinkers to figure out how to make such complicated electronic devices work, then build, ship and fill the machines, and make the whole system profitable. I would take my hat off to the Redbox people, but I really hate hats. I do wish they had saved a bit of their imagination for when it came time to name their wonderful product. I think they ran out of steam on that one. But, I suppose a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, and a red box by any fancier name would dispense no more sweetly.

My wife and I are a bit slow when it comes to trying most new electronic devices. We were dragged along into computer ownership, (several years ago and several times now) by the necessity of having one to run businesses. We were, shortly thereafter, similarly pulled into the internet by both our grown and growing children. E-mail and information websites eventually led us to online services like e-Bay and Netflix. (I will tell you that we will be the last two holdouts in the United States not to use Facebook. Silly us.) But, please, understand what we have witnessed over the years. Not that many years ago we had pagers, which were soon replaced by cell phones. We once owned Walkmans, (Walkmen? Whatever.) that have become MP3 players and I-Pods. We have also witnessed the death of 35mm cameras and tape-type video recorders. These have been replaced by tiny little devices that take pictures, make phone calls, record videos, play music and games, send text messages, surf the internet, and I have no idea what else, and keep all this information on a little chip which needs a postage-stamp size adapter so that it becomes ‘big’ enough to insert in a tiny slot in our computer.

I’m getting old, and I digress. I wanted to tell you that all of our foot-dragging, or at least most of it, when it comes to electronic ‘internet stuff’, is my wife’s fault. No, it really is. Lorna has an almost paralyzing paranoia, (Okay, maybe that’s too strong.) or at least a frightful fear of giving out credit card numbers on the internet. She is, possibly justifiably, afraid of us becoming victims of identity theft. I’m not as cautious, and would probably do much more online purchasing than she ever will, because I can’t believe anyone else would want to be us. So, you might understand that it did take us a while to try Redbox.

Ah yes, Redbox is a wonderful idea. Rent a movie for just a buck a day, watch it as many times as you want, and bring it back to any Redbox location. Rent an evening’s entertainment for less than buying a soda from a Coke machine, which happens to be the ‘other’ red box. How could you possibly beat that? Well, nothing is perfect, and that includes you and me, and Redbox. I might tell you of the time I stood under cover, but still in the rain, at a local Redbox. I eventually picked a movie, swiped my plastic, and the machine wouldn’t accept the card. Or the other time when we picked out a movie the kids really wanted to see and the machine did accept our card, but had “a problem” dispensing the disk. The screen said “Please choose another title.” or something like that. We chose to go home and watch something we already owned. But we still like Redbox.

I would have to say that the biggest drawback to the big red boxes is that using them is a one-at-a-time kind of thing. You look for a movie, try to read its descriptive paragraph, make a decision, and swipe your card, all with people standing in line right behind you. Once in a while you turn and smile at them, but you know what they’re thinking. You know they are wishing you would just give up and leave, so they can have their turn feeling the eyes of the person behind them burning into the back of their head while they use the machine. Talk about paralyzing paranoia. In this way, using a Redbox is similar to using a porta-potty, although I hope you never confuse the two. They’re similar in size and in the fact that everyone in line behind you knows what you’re there for, and while no one will say it, they all wish you would hurry up! But Redbox is worse, because there are few decisions to be made at a porta-potty, and your entire transaction is done behind a flimsy but opaque, semi-locked door. (A quick caution about using a porta-potty: Remember that whatever sound is made inside one of those things, whether of solid, liquid, gaseous or vocal origin, will immediately go, happily, trumpeting up that plastic stink pipe like something from a Dr. Seuss movie. So, be careful.)

The other day I was in line at a Redbox at a local supermarket. I was trying very hard to not make the pretty lady in front of me nervous, as I stood right behind her, watching her backside. I mean, watching the back of her head. She would occasionally look my way and I would look up at the ceiling or at my grocery list or something. She would then look back at the screen and I would continue staring at the back of her head, until such time when she looked back at me again. I could tell she was hurriedly checking for a movie, and was very conscious that I was standing behind her. But, what else could I do? All I wanted was to return a Redbox movie, and you need to stand in line to do that, too. Eventually the pretty lady got a movie and actually turned and apologized to me. I told her “Don’t worry about it.”, or “It was my pleasure.” or something else stupid, and she left. Could you blame her? I was sorry, but as uncomfortable as it can be to pick a movie while some stranger waits behind you, it’s even more uncomfortable to lose your place in line. I learned that lesson one time at a porta-potty.


Great place to learn all about Credit Cards is at UnderstandingCreditCards.com - Basic Credit Card Terms - Part I

A Personal Economic Solution

By G. E. Shuman

I recently heard a bit of news on the car radio, which was not ‘good’ news at all. It amazes me that there is no good news to be heard anymore. Actually, I’m sure there is good news, but good news doesn’t ‘make’ the news. Bad news does make the news, and this bit of news was definitely bad news. (Here’s a great diet tip. Turn your car radio on exactly at noontime, if you happen to be on your way to lunch someplace. The news flashes you hear are bound to ruin your appetite, thereby helping your diet.) Anyway, this news flash was about one particular facet of our stumbling economy, and hit home with me. The juvenile-sounding news reporter pretty much gleefully announced: “According to government sources, only twenty eight percent of ‘older’ Americans who have lost their jobs within the past year have found new ones, and most of the new jobs that were found were in areas outside of their expertise and experience, and at a lower rate of pay.” (Note here: I didn’t write that run-on sentence, someone in the news industry did.) My first thoughts after hearing that statistic were: “OLDER Americans? Did he say OLDER Americans? What is an OLDER American? Older than whom? Older than what? Older than dirt? Older than the twelve-year-old sounding reporter who so happily reported the statistic? I probably have neckties older than that guy. What does he know about ‘older’ anything? To him 1990 is probably ancient history!”

I grumbled on, on my drive to lunch, fuming a bit about that news flash, the sudden ache in the pit of my stomach, and realizing the only reason I was fuming was that I am a part of that statistic. I had lost my job within the past year, and, yes, I guess I am an ‘older’ American. (That part still frosts me a bit.) The good part is I am in the twenty eight percent of those ancient folks who has found a job. The bad part is that you may be in the… (Let’s see, 100 percent minus 28 percent ... oh yeah, I have it. You can tell I’m a product of public education, can’t you?) You may be in the seventy two percent who have not found any job at all. If this is the case, I wish you would read on, and let me tell you about my experience this past year.

First of all, if you like this next statement or not, I am sure that no one but God can see the end from the beginning in a situation like unemployment. This is something I have always known, but it is also something that is difficult to live with. Trusting God, and I mean REALLY trusting God when the chips are down, is the toughest thing I have ever done. I have no idea what your feelings about God or religion are, but if you happen to be an out-of-work believer, I know exactly what you’re going through right now. You want to trust Him, but you know you need to work on the problem too. You look online every day for work, and, so far, you have come up empty, and you hate the online jobsites, and you hate your computer so much you want to throw it through, not out of, the nearest window, and you’re very sick of looking, and some days even hate getting up in the morning. (I DID write that run-on sentence.) You feel displaced, unappreciated, and a bit useless at times. You just want a job, pray about it every day, and might even wonder why God doesn’t seem to hear your prayers. You NEED a job, and know that going to interviews with graying, (okay, gray) hair isn’t helping you a bit, no matter how many times the employer says they don’t age-discriminate. You feel that your years of experience count for nothing, and you hate the idea that this feeling might be the truth. Still, if you have faith, you want to feel that what is happening to you is in God’s plan. Believe me; I know what you are going through, as I went through it myself for nearly a year.

Our very wise pastor told me last spring that I should remember this year, and all that has happened. He said that seeing how things worked out for me and my family after we “come out the other side” of this trial would really strengthen our faith. Like I said, he is a very wise man. Today I can see that God let us go through this fire to accomplish a very good purpose. If I had been offered the wonderfully rewarding, but lower paying position I now have, when I still had the other job, I would never have considered taking it. My wife and I would have ‘known’ and agreed that we couldn’t possibly live with my making that lesser amount. After all, I had to provide for my family, and could never do so with less money than I was making. So, and you can believe this or not, I believe that God removed that obstacle. In one moment, last September, He removed the job that was keeping me more than I was keeping it. He next proceeded to show me who was really providing for my family. Guess what? It wasn’t me. I could literally write pages about the miracles of God’s provision for us this past year. It is true that our part has been to do a little creative refinancing, and we probably don’t go out to dinner as often as we used to, but that is all. We are not behind on one bill, and are thriving in our slightly less complicated and more faith-driven life.

I have now begun this brand new career that I love. The position was not from any of the two hundred plus resumes I have submitted throughout the year. It was not something I had even considered applying for. It was offered to me because of a casual conversation at a summer picnic, which just ‘happened’ to accomplish God’s will for my life. The employment began a few weeks ago, which also just happened to be only two weeks before my unemployment would run out. Humm…

No, my new job doesn’t pay a lot. Or does it? I now have more time with my children; time which is fleeting and invaluable to me. I have time to read, and to write. I have few ‘toys’, but no credit card bills. I also have great peace, in knowing that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I cannot begin to convince anyone to believe or to not believe anything, especially a story like ours, where the math just doesn’t seem to add up. The economic solution, for us, was very personal. It was simply learning to trust God, with everything. I hope that you will try it.

Ripples

By G. E. Shuman

I recently made a very quick trip over to Central Maine. The purpose of my trip was to attend a beautiful summertime memorial service for my great-aunt Alice, who passed away last December. I know the readers of this column didn’t know Aunt Alice, but I wish you all could have. She was an amazing person.

Because of other commitments I needed to make the trip in one day, by myself, and I was not sure if I should even go. Today I am very sure I needed to go. The service was held at an aging and beautiful Christian campground called Lakeside. Hugging the edge of one of Maine’s most beautiful lakes, with tiny cottages filled with friends and relatives of like Christian faith, Lakeside was one of Alice’s (and my) favorite places in the world. Many of those friends and relatives came to that service, to share memories and stories of how this one life had so positively affected their own. I had heard some, but not all of the stories before. At the risk of boring readers who could not have possibly known my Aunt Alice, I would like to very briefly tell you a little about this great woman.

Alice was born on July 15th, 1908, in a small coastal Maine town. Yes, I said 1908. She was only seven years old when her dear mother passed away, and Alice had to help care for her brothers and sisters. One gentleman at the service mentioned that at this young age Alice took her even younger sister along to school with her, as there was no one at home to care for her. We were also told that in those same years, Alice walked home from school each lunch time, to help prepare the meal for her family. Years later this young lady proved that even the challenges of such great adversity do not have to hinder success, as Alice earned the title of valedictorian of her graduating class in high school. After high school Alice began Bible College, only to be faced with what some would consider even greater adversity. It happened that one of her sisters, (my grandmother) soon became ill, and called Alice home to Maine to help care for her family. Alice went, willingly putting her own life and plans on hold, indefinitely. In those days a few great people did sacrificial things like that. Family meant, then, what family should mean now. What was thought could be several months of missed classes for Alice turned into many years, as her much beloved sister soon passed away. Yes, her sister died. Alice’s commitment to that family, my family, never did. She stayed in that home for twenty years, helping my grandfather raise my own father and his four siblings. As soon as the youngest was grown, Alice returned to school, bravely facing the challenges of a forty year old woman, in the late 1940’s, just beginning college. It was there that she met David, who would soon become her husband, and, one day, my great-uncle. As a couple they would find rich and rewarding success in life together. It was richness that had nothing to do with making money, and success in areas far superior to any of the things offered by this world. Alice and David were never well known, other than by those of us who have these memories of them to share, and of course, by the God of the universe, Himself. Their fame rested in spending sixteen years as Christian missionaries to the country of Japan. Then, the remainder of their lives were invested, (not spent,) in sharing God’s love with nearly every person they met.

I thought about relating these things to you as I stood on the deck at my cousin’s camp on the lake, shortly after that memorial service. Adults were inside chatting and eating. Kids were on the shore tossing rocks into the nearly still water. I noticed that the rocks made those familiar, inevitable, ever-expanding ripples outward in all directions on the surface of the lake. It is sharing an old analogy to write of the ripples of a person’s life spreading out as ripples on a pond, growing ever larger and larger, affecting everyone they come into contact with. Old analogy or not, that is precisely the way it was with my Aunt Alice. I have since thought much about this, and find it interesting that life’s ripples spread out not only through space, but also through time, touching people in ways and days we may never know of.

My Dad once said these words of simple advice to me: “If you can ever do something for somebody, do it.” That attitude, if not the words themselves, certainly came from his, and my, Aunt Alice, whom he loved as his very mother. It occurs to me that if Alice had not influenced my Dad to become the caring Christian man that he would be, my own mother may never have even married him. I, then, would have not been born at all, and you would just now be finishing reading someone else’s column.