News in Slow Time

This past summer I spent quite a bit of time recovering from a hip replacement that had a little extra glitch. In anticipation of the first surgery my wife, who knows me so well, subscribed to the newspaper. She remembered my wistful reminiscences about the real, tangible, printed paper and a cup of coffee, even though I had quit subscribing before we ever got together. This would be my treat during recovery.

Now I've been reading a daily paper for four months and I've noticed a few things. First of all, the newspaper with a cup (or two) of coffee has not lost its charm for me. Each morning I head for the stove where she leaves it, right beside the coffee pot. This woman is definitely a keeper.

I've been trying to remember when I stopped reading paper news, and I believe it was when I got a "real" job. As long as I was working for myself, I had enough mornings with extra time to make it worthwhile. Once I started teaching, I found that not only did they expect me to be there on time every single day, but I had to be prepared, as well. Teaching ate my life and spit out such trivialities as reading the newspaper, watching tv, reading for pleasure, and meeting friends for coffee. 

Without time to eat breakfast and read the paper, I started snatching news from NPR on the car radio and occasional clips on news sites when I should have been doing something else. By the time I reached retirement I had become accustomed to relying on the computer for instant news gratification. In fact, I preferred it because I could pick and choose what to read more precisely. 

And that is what I have been thinking about since I resumed the leisurely perusal of a morning paper. I read it differently. 

When I have an actual newspaper, I open it and take a look at the entire page --- or two pages, if it's spread all the way --- and move across the page from one article or picture to another. Headlines are important, but not as likely to dissuade me as are the headlines in a list on the computer. 

Confronted with a list on a news site, I'm dead certain I'm not going to read all of them. I'll run down the roster and pick one or two. When I open the newspaper, I'm willing to read at least the first paragraph of almost anything, just to see if it grabs me. Often, articles that I would have summarily dismissed on the computer wind up enticing me in. It's how I learn things I would never have chosen to look at.

It strikes me as similar to the difference between looking at a paper map and using the GPS on my phone. The GPS gives me a narrow, specific route with verbal directions so I can get where I'm going with the least amount of uncertainty. A map provides context, a more global view of where I am and where I want to go, along with everything in between, including places I never knew about. Both maps and GPS are useful but engage different parts of my brain. 

I've been in love with the printed word since kindergarten when I discovered that I could read on my own. I spend a lot of time reading and writing on the computer and thank goodness for the keyboard and screen. But I still love actual books and usually have both tangible and electronic books going at the same time. Now I have regained my affinity for unwieldy, smudgy, scattershot newspapers, and it adds to my enjoyment of life. There's nothing like sitting on the deck, the dogs playing in the yard, the cat trying to curl up on the pages before me, and a mug of hot coffee at the ready. 

Thank you, Jill, for reigniting my mornings. 

Down in the Valley

It has been months since I wrote a blog post and nearly as long since I made any progress on the nearly-finished novel that's underway. What started as a needed break seems to be turning into something akin to sloth.

What actually drove me to the keyboard today was yesterday, the anniversary of 9/11. I avoided it almost completely. I always do.

When that attack happened 15 years ago, it became an instant touchstone for the country. Where were you when you heard about it? It joined so many others --- Pearl Harbor, Kennedy Assassination, King Assassination, Challenger Explosion. Where were you? What were you doing?

But you see, it was followed so quickly with the national meme that "Everything changed on 9/11" that the layers piled up quickly. What changed for the country? What changed for me and mine?

Is there a before and after for an occurrence that was not only predictable but probably overdue? Did Americans think that we were immune? What kind of arrogant, self-satisfied certainty could give rise to the presumption that it could never happen here? The USA is the greatest country on earth, the biggest, baddest, country ever. American Exceptionalism. 

We're not exempt from the world, and maybe that's what became clear the day the towers fell. Maybe that's also what fuels some of the anger that underlies politics and dissension in the public square now, fifteen years later.

My father fought in WWII in the Pacific. By the time I knew him, he was a well-educated, artistic, reasonable man. He was not intentionally unkind to people and had broadened his horizons from the small town start he got in 1920-30s Iowa. But I still remember him referring to people of Asian descent as "Japs" when I was growing up ---- and there was a tone of voice that went with it.

The slurs and hatred I hear in public discourse now, especially during the campaign, remind me of that level of unexamined, habitual bigotry. 

Everything changed when the US took a hit. But did it really? By now, we have the reflexive reverence that is trotted out every September, with especially fervent expressions reserved for years that mark the fives. That will no doubt continue, though as more people die who remember the original day, and more are born in its wake, it will become less evocative and more like the other "where were you?" days.

This country has been at war for nearly an entire generation. It is a war that shows no sign of coming to a close, and may continue to burn like those underground peat bogs that smolder for decades. It has never caught on among the American public. There are no incentives for the population as a whole to get behind it; no liberty bonds, no victory gardens, not even an attempt to pay for the damn thing. It provokes far more criticism than support among the general population, when it's talked about at all. 

The only thing the citizens get behind is "supporting the troops" and I put that in quotes because I doubt that actual support, any substantial financial or societal support, will ever be whole-heartedly embraced by either the lawmakers or the populace. You know who supports the troops? Their families. Individuals. Veterans. The country may be fighting a war, but the country is not feeling the pain.

I'm exhausted. I thought the 2012 presidential campaign was a never-ending nightmare, but it was nothing compared to this one. It feels as though the entire country needs an extended vacation, a month at the beach, time to chill. This is like the time all your kids get sick one after another, your boss cuts your hours, the car breaks down and needs $1500 repairs and your spouse is spending ever more time away from home. (Well, it's only like that if you're in the 98%.) We all need some time away.

Instead, we get bombarded every day with louder voices, wilder rhetoric, more devastating stories of suffering, pictures of tormented children and animals. The louder the shouts, the redder the faces, the deeper the pain, the more I want to crawl under the covers and cuddle with my dogs.

Welcome to my valley. If you want to stay you'll have to use your indoor voice. No smoking, please.