Still Too Soon

Yesterday was my mom’s 77th birthday. The gathering was not what it used to be. We met at Luby’s and ate lunch together and talked about a lot of things.

One of the more pressing discussions was the coming of the first great-grandchild (first grandchild for me). Still too early to know whether it will be a boy or a girl. But we’re all abuzz.

Just wished Mom could actually have been there for it. Different people have different thoughts about whether there is any awareness of what is going on “down here.” But whatever you think about it, it is what it is.

And I missed her. As I often do.

MAH. Beloved wife, mother, grandmother. 1934 – 2007. Too short. Shortest of the generation.

To borrow from a poet of our day:

I can’t believe your song is gone so soon.
I barely learned the tune.
So soon.
So soon.

Ignore Previous Cookie

When I was growing up, license plates were made using the labor of prison inmates. It was suggested that the reason that vowels were not included in those days was that they might run a batch with a bad word and it not get caught before it went out the door.

I’m sure that there are stories like that everywhere. Sort of “lunatics running the asylum” kind of things.

But last weekend was for real.

We had ordered Chinese food. As usual, there are several fortune cookies included in the order, typically more than the number of people actually eating the food. My wife actually likes the things and ate one. Then about 30 minutes later when went past the remainder and picked up another. She opened it and suddenly burst out laughing.

“Ignore previous cookie” was all that was written on the little slip of paper.

Maybe the inmates are running the asylum.

Digital Distractions

The shortcomings of social media would not bother me awfully if I did not suspect that Facebook friendship and Twitter chatter are displacing real rapport and real conversation, just as Gutenberg’s device displaced remembering. The things we may be unlearning, tweet by tweet — complexity, acuity, patience, wisdom, intimacy — are things that matter.

The last of four paragraphs someone else gleaned from a post by Bill Keller, executive editor of the New York Times, a newspaper which has earned high marks for its creative, even prizewinning, foray into digital media. Had me wondering how much the timesaving advancements of technology are slowing down and interrupting the most important parts of my work day. From the intermediary post, I read through several other linked posts discussing the issue.