Whenever my grandmother would learn of something unusual, she would say, "Only in America!" Sometimes she said this in awe. Sometimes she said it in exasperation at something she felt was wrong headed.
I thought of my grandmother today on the day of Christmas Eve, on the fifth day of Hanukkah and on the day just before Kwanzaa begins. I was listening to NPR when I heard a report about "Cup Stacking." The sport was begun in the 90s. It has serious contenders who carry their cups in specially designed shoulder cages. There are local and national rules for regional and world competitions.
Right in the middle of holiday celebrations with lights, tinsel, ancient music and customs and the news of the world, all gave way to cup stacking. As I listened to the report, I thought of my grandmother and how in awe she would have been to learn about the serious business of cup stacking. I think she would have smiled and said, "Only in America!" as did I this morning!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
PROBLEM SOLVING OR SCAPEGOATING?
As the political rhetoric heats up in Congress, many of its member are tossing about scapegoats in the name of problem solving.
They are telling us that immigrants, teachers, scientists, environmentalists, unionists, regulators and, of course, the "other guy's" political and religious beliefs are the cause of our problems.
Seems to me we need to decide who we really are and who we really want to be. We need to ask ourselves and those who represent us some hard questions about where we are headed. I don't think that relying on irrational hostility toward others can lead us to a sustainable future. It will only lead us to lose our once sure footing going over a cliff we are unable to climb.
Scapegoats offer enticing, easy solutions for our problems. It will take the hard work of all of us to assure plans for the future are consistent with our views of justice and equity least our Representatives take our country in a detour from where we ought to go.
They are telling us that immigrants, teachers, scientists, environmentalists, unionists, regulators and, of course, the "other guy's" political and religious beliefs are the cause of our problems.
Seems to me we need to decide who we really are and who we really want to be. We need to ask ourselves and those who represent us some hard questions about where we are headed. I don't think that relying on irrational hostility toward others can lead us to a sustainable future. It will only lead us to lose our once sure footing going over a cliff we are unable to climb.
Scapegoats offer enticing, easy solutions for our problems. It will take the hard work of all of us to assure plans for the future are consistent with our views of justice and equity least our Representatives take our country in a detour from where we ought to go.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
SURPRISING SOLO PERFORMANCE
I am constantly encountering interesting people either on the elevator or in the laundry room in the apartment house where I live. Next to the laundry room is the Business Center where I write or read until my clothes are ready.
Today, as I was about to enter the Business Center, I stopped in my tracks. Through the glass door I saw a young woman, playing the violin. It was obvious she was practicing and I did not want to intrude on her space, but she gestured to come in. She explained that I might not enjoy her playing but I sat down and began to write anyway. She played beautifully and at times I found myself tearing up because of a delicate melody.
I learned that she had arrived from China six months ago to play with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. Her name is Xiaoxiao Qiang. I shall look for her at the next concert I attend and remember that she honored me with a solo performance on a day that would have otherwise been uneventful and mundane.
Today, as I was about to enter the Business Center, I stopped in my tracks. Through the glass door I saw a young woman, playing the violin. It was obvious she was practicing and I did not want to intrude on her space, but she gestured to come in. She explained that I might not enjoy her playing but I sat down and began to write anyway. She played beautifully and at times I found myself tearing up because of a delicate melody.
I learned that she had arrived from China six months ago to play with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. Her name is Xiaoxiao Qiang. I shall look for her at the next concert I attend and remember that she honored me with a solo performance on a day that would have otherwise been uneventful and mundane.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
MINATURES & A WINDMILL IN BEVO
Sometime ago, I was perusing a list of Museums in our area. Each was dedicated to different interests, activities and collections. Almost unnoticed was a small listing for the Miniature Museum of St. Louis. Intrigued, I drove out with a friend to see it in a neighborhood called Bevo.
The museum has a wide assortment of miniature houses, churches, and buildings filled with people and animals. A Victorian house features, among its many rooms a woman taking a bath. In a shoot-em-up saloon, cowboys tote their guns and neglect a horse that has wandered through the swinging doors. One home, decorated for Christmas had a train about the size of a thimble actually running on its tracks. Displays enclosed in glass are donated by collectors and creators.
In contrast, across the street from the Museum was a giant Windmill that towered over houses, shopping centers and boarded up warehouses. I was told that the Windmill Restaurant was built as a midway point for guests on their way from St. Louis to the Anheinser Bush family farm in carriages drawn by Clydesdale horses, a way of life represented now by the Windmill and the Museum across the street.
The museum has a wide assortment of miniature houses, churches, and buildings filled with people and animals. A Victorian house features, among its many rooms a woman taking a bath. In a shoot-em-up saloon, cowboys tote their guns and neglect a horse that has wandered through the swinging doors. One home, decorated for Christmas had a train about the size of a thimble actually running on its tracks. Displays enclosed in glass are donated by collectors and creators.
In contrast, across the street from the Museum was a giant Windmill that towered over houses, shopping centers and boarded up warehouses. I was told that the Windmill Restaurant was built as a midway point for guests on their way from St. Louis to the Anheinser Bush family farm in carriages drawn by Clydesdale horses, a way of life represented now by the Windmill and the Museum across the street.
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