Thursday, January 28, 2016

A Repeat

Dear Readers,

            It has been somewhat of a rough week for me. I work with dozens of wonderful teenagers, who, most of which, happened to be coughing, sneezing, and blowing their noses at my desk every day, last week. Because of, in spite of, or regardless of that fact I have been battling flu symptoms all this week, and have not had the energy necessary to think, or to type, for the past few days. For those reasons, please accept this reprint of a column that some have said was one of my better attempts.

Wrist-Watches and Cracker Jack
by G. E. Shuman

            A few weeks ago I was standing in our kitchen, and happened to notice something about my daughter, when I saw her sitting on the couch in the next room.  “You don't wear a wrist-watch, huh Em?”  I remarked.
            “I don't wear a what?” Emily asked back.
            “A wrist-watch.”  I repeated.
            “Dad, they don't call them wrist-watches anymore.  It's just a watch, and, no, I don't wear one.”
            “Why not?  Don't you have one?”  I asked, in honest ignorance of her point.
            “I don't NEED one.  Everyone always has their phone in their hand, and the time is right here.” Emily responded, holding up the electronic appendage which seems to be permanently attached to her palm.
            “Oh. Yeah.” Was my only reply, as I was, once again, technologically trounced back into the old realization that mine is not exactly the cutting-edge generation anymore.  I looked at my left wrist, and at my watch... my WRIST-watch, wondering if I will see the day when 'old' people like myself are actually laughed at for wearing one of these things.  I suddenly felt like I was carrying around a spittoon and a buggy whip instead of a watch.  Maybe, just maybe, that day was already here.
            It may have been that very same day, or perhaps a day or so later, that I noticed (I guess I'm noticing things lately, in my declining days.) something familiar and somehow exciting from my own childhood.  My wife has recently taken to buying boxes of Cracker Jack, to take to work with her, as a snack.  And, that day, right in front of me on a small round table in our kitchen, lay an actual Cracker Jack prize!  Do you remember those?  For generations, literally, Cracker Jack has proudly, (and rightly so) announced 'A prize in every box!” ON every box of their product.  I remember vividly, as a child, ripping the entire top off my Cracker Jack boxes and squeezing the sides to see if I could see that cherished, tea-bag sized white envelope, that I knew was buried somewhere among the caramel corn and peanuts.  If I saw the prize I would immediately dump out enough of the Cracker Jack to get my fingers far enough into the box to snag the prize and drag it out.  (Tell me you have never done that.)  Now, everyone knows, and knew then, that whatever prize was inside the envelope had no great value. There was always a blue-ink printed joke to read on the outside, and something less than magical on the inside of that little piece of sealed paper.  To me, as a child, making fun of whatever the little plastic something was that was inside was half of the fun.  Do you remember people saying things like: “Where'd ya get the ring... a box of Cracker Jack?” 
            I thought of all of this, as I picked up and looked over that genuine Cracker Jack prize envelope.  The fact that it was still unopened proved to be too much for me to resist.  For the first time in years, I opened a Cracker Jack prize, and, for the first time ever, I was quite disappointed.  In an effort to please the kids of today, even this wonderful moment from the past has changed.  Rather than some chintzy ring or other cheap plastic thing, inside the envelope there was only a note.  The note said this: “Now you can download fun, authentic Cracker Jack prizes to your smart phone at:”, with a website address following.  In other words, at least to me, the prize was... well... nothing.  To me, the feeling was the same as when someone gives you a lottery ticket for your birthday.  What did they really give you?  Nothing.  Frankly, I would rather have had a dumb toy than a stupid app., from that box of Cracker Jack.
            I recently read an article in which the author lamented that: “Modern technology is taking away all of our stuff.”  That we no longer need cds to play our music, or dvds to play our movies, were his main points.  Some people now take virtual vacations, (Gee, those must be fun.) and others completely lose themselves in games which require no cards, game boards, game pieces, or even other players.  I think that today's kids are actually missing out on a few REAL things, as they willingly view virtual ones, displayed on small glass screens.   One of those real things that they are missing out on is the proud feeling of a shiny new watch wrapped around your wrist; another is the joy of holding, instead of an expensive phone, a cheap and cherished Cracker Jack toy, right in the palm of your hand.

            

Friday, January 15, 2016

Choices


By G. E. Shuman
           
                One evening last week I had a great phone conversation with one of my five favorite adult children. (I have five adult children, and they are all my favorites.)  Cathy occasionally calls me on a weekday evening, when her busy day is winding down, and mine is doing the same. I love conversations and meetings with all of my children, and learn something with every call or visit. I am, truly, blessed beyond measure by these wonderful people.
                Somehow, during this particular call, Cathy and I happened to be chatting about the subject of choices.  We reminisced a bit about her life, her choices, and where she is now because of, in spite of, or regardless of those choices that she has made over the years. We agreed that not all of her, or all of our family’s past choices had been for the best.   I found it very interesting that, while we were both acknowledging that such choices, which seemed the best at the time, probably were not, she and I now realized that things really do have a way of working out; the puzzle pieces, somehow, ultimately seem to fit together, when the time is right for them to do so.
                I have a feeling that most of that ‘fitting together’ happens because of a person’s growing maturity as the years pass. Experience really is the best teacher; the ‘good’ decisions we make today probably stem from lessons learned from yesterday’s ‘not-so-good’ ones.  To quote one of my favorite poems, and then my very favorite book: “No doubt, the universe is unfolding, as it should.” (Desiderata).  “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”              (Holy Bible. Romans 8:28).
                Our family is slowly, constantly progressing, as is yours, as this brand new year unfolds; while “the universe is unfolding, as it should.”  New life arrives, youth flourishes, mid-life comes, older members make plans for an ever-shortening future, and the oldest of us become frail and eventually come face to face with the truth of: ‘And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this, the judgement.” (Heb. 9:27.)  Every day of that progression is filled with choices, big and small, for all of us.
                Last night was building up to be a busy one for me. My teaching day had ended, but I came home facing many pages of edits that evening, for an online company that I do such work for. It just didn’t look very promising for an early bedtime for me. Then, just after I had settled in for a few minutes rest in my recliner, my son, Andrew, bounded down the stairs, asking/announcing; 5:40 or 6:30?  I had no idea what he was talking about, until I realized that I had promised to take him to the new Star Wars movie that evening. (I think there will always be a new Star Wars movie.)  I had forgotten about that promise. He had not.  We had both already seen the movie, but both wanted to again, and had determined to go together.  My first reaction was to try to ‘beg off’ going, and suggested that we wait a few more days.  He is a man, not a child, and accepted that news well, but I could tell that he was disappointed as he went back to his room.  A few minutes later, as I began my work, it struck me that Andrew really IS a man, and that my opportunities to just get in the car and take him to a movie may soon be coming to an end.  With that, I got off the computer. Soon after, we were on our way to the early show.
                I wanted to tell you about that ‘movie’ decision, only because in that situation I needed to make a choice, and I now know that I made the right one.  It wasn’t a life changing decision, but it was an important one, for me.  The choice that I made was probably not the smartest one, and definitely made for a late evening when we got home.  Still, it all worked out. Life went on.  The universe continued to unfold, the next day came, and I had spent a great evening with my son.  The next time such a choice needs to be made, the decision will be an easy one.