Mooreover / Blog

I saw this awhile ago, but I’m only posting it now. It aired several weeks ago on CBS Sunday Morning (must watch tv), and I thought it was a pretty neat story on fulfilling personal dreams, even after they were put on hold for 53 years.

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The following is an email I received from my brother-in-law Casey, who lives in Big Timber, MT. The story is about his daughter Jaylea, who’s in kindergarten.

Hello to all,

I wanted to relay the story of little Miss Jaylea Ellen Lunceford on the day after our new president elect won the race.  Apparently, the Big Timber grade school had it’s own election for “Rock Obama” and McCain.  Obviously Jaylea’s kindergarten class would very impressionable among each other and when listening to parents and older siblings but it would be interesting to see what came about.  As it turns out, Obama won the national race as well as the race among kindergarteners at Mrs. Gano’s class.  The morning after the election Mrs. Gano informed the class that “Rock Obama” had won the race and that he would be the new president of the United States.  The entire class whooped and hollered with joy because their candidate had won.  Everybody, that is, except the Lunceford girl.  Jaylea was sitting in her seat in the middle of the classroom with an unsettled look while her classmates danced around her.  Upon noticing this and after the rest of the class had calmed back down, Mrs. Gano asked if Jaylea would like to tell what was on her mind.  Without hesitation she said, “You know, now he’s gonna try to take our guns.”

And that is why everybody is shaking my hand as I walk around Big Timber these days.  I think the story has made it from Mrs. Gano’s class all over town.

I’ve been pretty ethereal lately, so let me take a couple of seconds to talk about matters of more substance…

I read an article yesterday that deserves some attention. It’s starting to gain a lot of momentum, so many of you may have already read it. It’s an open letter to American newspapers, written by a journalist by the name of Orson Scott Card. Card is also a registered Democrat (even though many of his views wouldn’t be endorsed or supported by many of those in his party), and the letter is a rebuke of the media’s imbalance on their coverage of the presidential race. I sent this to a few open-minded Obama supporters yesterday and it resulted in some honest talk and deep discussion. I’ve been inundated with political emails, and a good share of them are more hyperbole than truth, so I’ve largely stayed quiet on the issue. This is an intelligent and pointed discourse though, so I’m shining a light on it today. So when you have time today, take a second to read “Would the last honest reporter please turn on the lights?”, and then forward the article to anyone else that reads.

In lighter fare, most of you have probably seen this as well, but I think that Sarah Palin’s visit to SNL resulted in one of their funniest bits of late. So happy Friday – cap off your week with a little Palin Rap.

I think a lot of people are going to have mountaintop experiences soon.

It won’t be right away – everyone has to descend from their pedestal into the valley, where many will live on a diet of dust. I’ve been in the valley for a little while, waiting. I’ve tired of my diet here, and my ears are starting to hear a swelling drumbeat from a distant height.

I’ve been too easily distracted. Too much time spent on things that don’t matter, too much time spent on things that matter to other people.

I’ve said that the blog is going to change, maybe even go away. To some degree I’ve come to find the very premise of blogging nauseating. Let me explain: when I sit down to write, I’m not nauseated by that. But I’ve read hundreds (if not thousands) of blogs, and the fascination is starting to wear thin. Everyone in the world has a blog, sharing their thoughts and opinions like they’ve earned a right to be heard. I’m thankful for the blogging medium, and I think that it’s done a lot to keep the news media accountable, but save a few examples, I think that blogging makes people lazy intellectually. I read a blog recently where I felt thrown up on – that the writer just expelled as many thoughts as possible without any sense of order or connection (and I’m horrified to realize that I’ve done the same thing many times here). Most bloggers have so many thoughts that they can’t even take the time to use full words or complete sentences, and everytime I trip across an OMG or LOL landmine I’m reminded that quantity of thought is no replacement for quality of thought.

If I try to use this blog as my vehicle for writing and thought, it’s going to be a short trip. I’m not abandoning the blog, but I am going to be taking fewer trips with it, hopefully because I’m working in a medium that challenges me to write more coherently. This might mean that someday I’ll even have clarity of thought, which might even more blog posts.

So I’m taking myself out of the valley. I’m headed for rarer air.

Selah has the cutest way of correcting me. I was reading her a book about marine life the other day, where one of her favorite activities is to point out the different pictures and say “Name?” I tell her the name and she says “Yep” and then moves on to the next animal. Most recently she pointed to a clown fish and asked me the name. I said “Clown fish” and she said, “No, Nemo actually.” I don’t think that just turned two year-olds are supposed to know the correct use of “actually,” but Selah has it down. In the same session I pointed out a shark and she said “Airplane actually daddy.” She thinks that sharks are airplanes since they both have tail fins. “Actually” is now Selah’s favorite word, and while I’m sure our daughter correcting us will get old, for now it’s endearing.

I’m at a different coffee house this morning – I thought the people watching prospects might be better here. They really aren’t. One gal looks like a Dr. Seuss character, too skinny and topped with a stocking cap that’s colored like a hypnotizing wheel. I’ve never been able to pull off the stocking cap look. There are a lot of looks that don’t work well on me, and wearing an adornment that hugs my large geodesic dome is one of them.

Ugh! A mom is digging for gold out of her three year-old’s nose right in front of me. I think she’s looking for an artery. I won’t be able to sit on that couch ever again. More moms and kids coming in to the coffee shop now. We’ve tried to hold business meetings at this coffee shop, but every once in awhile it’s more like a Chucky Cheese than a coffee shop. I was hoping Saturday morning would be different.

Nose picking mom is actually really nice. She has a quiet demeanor and a relative ease that I’m not used to seeing from a mother of two young kids. There’s another mother here doing her best to look like Britney Spears in the Los Angeles sun, only we’re not in Los Angeles and it’s cloudy, so those designer sunglasses  seem a little forced. Wear a t-shirt that says “High Maintenance” while you’re at it. I don’t mean to be harsh, I’ve just never been one to appreciate the high maintenance woman. I prefer beauty without the artistry in that regard.

Another morning at the coffee shop. This is turning into a normal Friday thing. The sky is a colorless void – which apparently drives everyone into the nearest coffee shop for respite. A lot of bus drivers come here before and after their runs – most of them are women, and most of them look like bus drivers rather than Mary Kay consultants. I gave up my table for the lot of them, only after witnessing their disdain for my computer bag perched atop what must have been their preferred location. I thought they would warm to me when I showed and gave up my territory, but like pirates, they moved from their ship to mine with more entitlement than gratitude. Not that I mind – not if minding means that I have to drive a bus.