Hyacinths and Hexadecimals

From Henri Nouwen’s Meditations:

Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write.

Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be “redeemed” by writing about it. By writing we can claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too.

This blog, entitled Stuff White People Like, just cracks me up.  Here’s an excerpt from the April 20 entry:

But why do white people love them (New Balance running shoes) so uniformly? It is pretty simple really. A few years ago it came out that Nike (and other manufacturers) were producing their shoes in Asian sweatshops and then selling them for a very high profit margin. White people were outraged, they generally prefer that children in developing nations first finish high school before working in shoe-producing sweatshops. Otherwise they might look foolish when their co-workers are talking about Catcher in the Rye.

This enormous guilt over child labor meant that white people started to stop wearing Nike shoes. Subsequently they were left to find a company that used fair labor practices to make shoes for the sports that they loved most: jogging, hiking, cross-country running, marathons, walking and being seen in retro-sneakers.

When you meet a person wearing New Balance shoes it is a good idea to ask them about the marathon for which they are inevitably training. If they say “I’m not training for a marathon,” this is a good opportunity to raise your status by saying “oh, I thought only runners wore those. My running club all wear New Balance except for a few jerks who won’t shut up about Asics. I’m still a bit sore from the 10k run this morning.”

This is an extremely effective move since white people who jog are generally viewed as being better than white people who don’t.

On May 10 at 1:00 p.m. an international audience will be participating in Pangea Cinema Day by watching 4 hours worth of (24) independent films made all over the world. Egyptian-American filmaker Jehane Noujaim (above) talks about how film can bridge so many gaps in our understanding of each other. How? by bypassing all the “official” news and getting up close and personal in people’s everyday lives: what they are concerned about, what their dreams are, what they hope. That’s the first step - - seeing each other as real, vulnerable, 3-dimensional human beings.

Sounds like something we need here in Memphis: a way to bridge the gap between rich and poor, Hispanic and black and white. A way to see each other as brothers and sisters.

You’ll need iTunes to fully use this site, but it was fun to look back in time to see what the #1 song was on this date in history. Actually, I chose my birthdate and then was chagrined to discover that the #1 song on that date was no longer available to listen to through iTunes. Lovely. Anyway, at least I recognized the song’s title. Plug in a memorable date (high school graduation day, for instance) and see what was popular on the song charts then.  The image above is a clue of what teenagers were dancing to on the day I was born…

I just ran across an archive of old films. This one from 1944 was produced by the U.S. Office of Education. It’s a training film for men who are, for the first time in their lives, supervising women in the workforce. It’s several minutes long, but well worth the time to watch it. Heavy sexism here - as well as a good laugh.

On this, the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Keith and I joined thousands of Memphians to participate in a commemorative march downtown, from City Hall to the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. King was shot at 6:01 p.m. on this day in 1968. Much has been accomplished in the last 40 years, but there is much that is still left undone. God bless his legacy, and God help us to keep our eyes on that dream. Click here to listen to a portion of the last speech he ever delivered (April 3, 1968 at the Mason Temple in Memphis, TN).

So today I went for my annual physical, the highlight of any woman’s year. Gee, I wish I could do this every day! I’m grateful for modern medicine and all, but I am not so excited about the colonoscopy she is scheduling for me. My friend Dionne has volunteered to drive me there and back when the time comes because, she says, it’s important to go with someone you’re comfortable farting in front of. Well, there ya go. Anyway, my doctor just happened to mention a colonoscopy column by Dave Barry, which of course I looked up online when I got home. If there’s a humorous side to this, Dave Barry can find it. I’m finding that a number of aspects of being 50 are more tolerable if I can laugh about them instead of whimpering.

OK, so today I had an appointment with Doogie Howser, my rheumatologist. The fact that I even know what a rheumatologist is, is disturbing at some level. But what can I say? I’m 50 and I’m falling apart. One of my more troubling problems is my knees, which he said would improve if I lost some weight. Little creep - what does he know? And what is he anyway? 17? 18? But I came home and, determined to get in shape, rode my bike for 30 minutes. Well, 30 minutes if you count getting it out of the shed and putting it up. Which I do. The rank unfairness of it all kind of ruined what was otherwise a peaceful, relaxing ride. Uncharitable thoughts kept racing through my head of all the people I’ve known through the years, who’ve said things like, “I just wish I could gain a few pounds,” “No dessert for me please. I’ve never had a taste for sweets,” and “These size four jeans are almost too tight.” I don’t like those people. They’re spiteful and mean and have serious character flaws.

I’m not so sure I like being 50.