A Short Sabatical

Yup, I know. This is not another installment of the 20 Days of Randomness. Let me apologize now. Due to a conference here, a conference there, and the minor tragedy of computer harddrive failure, posting has been anything but proficient these days. And as I am about to flee the country I must confess proficiency will not get any better within the next two weeks. But before I go I just wanted to say that I'm excited. And that while I'm away I have absolutely no plans save getting to my destination. I shall be bringing only the necessities, and I've whittled down the necessary books to equal 5. I was shooting for 3, but justified two more due to the fact that they are rather small and I could probably read them both twice a piece just on the flight over. But don't worry, where I am going there is a rather good and recourseful library so don't think that I'm starving myself due to the fact that each additional check in bag cost one arm plus $25.

Here's what I'm taking to English L'Abri, and heaven only knows what all I'll be bringing back:

Day 16: Belly Button Lint—G.D.W.

From the moment the last remaining bit of umbilical cord falls off till our dying day, we carry with us a companion that sticks with us through the toughest of times, maturing and growing better with age even as we do the same. It is the one constant, the ever present, the always faithful. It can start out small when we are small then grow to fill an ever growing void. It sees us through our first birthdays when our parents think it's cute to let us eat cake clothed only in a diaper. It holds our attention in kindergarten when our long-suffering teachers can not. It then becomes a teacher's aid when our elders seek (to no avail) to instill in us the importance of cleanliness in adolescence. From there it is little thought about, little heard of, little valued. Until the octogenarian age. Then it is rediscovered and appreciated for it's age and complexity, mostly because some one else has discovered it while giving us a sponge bath. Just think, it all started with a bit of left over cord, and then speck by speck, particle by particle it came into its own through ripe maturity. To it we owe a debt of gratitude, for it is part of who we are today.

Day 15: Mirror—N.G.R.

A Brief Glimpse into the Life of La-a
(pronounced la-dash-a) the Mirror:

(enter a frequent visitor)

Giiirl, you an idiot! Stop lookin’ at me AGAIN. Of course you’re butt’s too big. Your lil’ friend there ain’t gunna tell you that, but you hang around me long enough and I tell you all about it. Oh, and by the way, that hair color just ain’t you. You should go more with a kind ‘a auburn or magenta instead of jet black. You lookin’ like Cher ‘cept not as cute. Whoops, you dun got water all over the sink! Wait, where you goin’? You ain’t gunna clean that up? Ser’ously. I have got one word fo’ you: R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You should find out what it means to me.

Oh hey, honey. You lookin’ nicer than that last girl that just walked off. Actually child, you lookin’ good. What’s that you wearin’, Cerruti? I ain’t seen no Cerruti since I passed through New York from where I’s manufactured in South Carolina. New York, New York! It’s you girl, it’s you! Oh, ok. You off. A’righty, it’s been real nice talkin’ to ya. Come on back some time ya…aaaaaaaaan’ she gone.

It’s ok. I don’t mind bein’ in here all by myself. Some body’s gotta look out fo’ people in here. Ooo, there’s the door. Awww, lowdy! I knew I soon as that word “people” come out I shouldn’t ‘a said it! Son, you ain’t supposed ta’ be in here. Shoo! Shoo! Aww lordy, there’s a man all up in here! Son, can’t you tell you ain’t in the right kinda place? HaaaHa! He dun noticed ‘fo he made it five feet in, good fo’ him! Yeah, that’s right, you better be lookin’ at me all apologetic like, an’ fix yo’ hair. Get now, ya hear, an’ don’t cha come back no more, no more, no more, no more!

(exit a non-frequent visitor)

Day 14: A Bowl of Freshly Cut Toe Nails—M.V.

Talk Show Host: This week on “Shoe Living” we’ll go inside the shoe household and see just what all goes into bath night when there are so many children that you don’t know what to do. How does the Old Woman do it? You’ll find out, so stay tuned!

(insert dramatic TV talk show music here)

Old Woman: Thankfully I jus’ give the kids a bath once a month. Gotta set aside a whole day, I mean, how else can I do it? There’s so many of the little buggers runnin’ ‘round. Ain’t no way I can keep a runnin’ tab a who had a bath what day ‘er nothin’.

Talk Show Host: So basically what you do is line them all up and give them a bath one after the other?

Old Woman: Sorta. We got color teams here in the shoe. Them kids are divided up, kin’a like colors ‘a the rainbow. Let’s see we gots the Purple Kids, the uh Blue Kids, we got the Green Kids, let’s see uh the Yeller Kids, the Or’nge Kids, and the uh, who’m I missin’…oh yeah, an’ the Red ones.

Talk Show Host: So they’re in order of color? And they just know when to come?

Old Woman: Yup! In that there order that I just spouted off to ya. Then that last ‘un calls the first ‘a the next, an’ so on til they all come out shinin’ like spit on a hog…but a might bit better smellin’ mind ya.

Talk Show Host: That doesn’t sound too hard, guess you just had to get the system down, huh?

Old Woman: That’s jus’ the bathin’ part though. There’s more that goes into bath day then jus’ the bathin’!

Talk Show Host: Like what?

Old Woman: Like the cleanin’ up and the getting’ rid ‘a all that nasty water and trimmin’ the toe nails and such!

Talk Show Host: Well then tell us a little bit about those things? And is all that stuff just as hard as the actual bath time?

Old Woman: Awww, Lawd! I think all that’s a bit worse! Oh but we did get that there contraption from those Sears folk (‘cause we came on this show). It does ‘at fancy thang where it takes our nasty water and turns it back inta drinkin’ water. That’s real nice. It’s jus’ the getting’ it to the crazy thang that’s a pain. Baths ‘er at the toe ‘a the house, that thang’s at the heel. I can’t be spendin’ all my time cartin’ that stuff from one end ‘a the place ta the other! Say, ya don’t think “Extreme Make Over: Sole Edition” would come ta my place an’ do it up right nice, do ya?

Talk Show Host: So…(cough, cough)…tell us about trimming the kids toe nails.

Old Woman: Well, first off that’s done right after bathin’. Gets the toe nail all soft like, ya know. Makes it easier an’ faster ta trim. Now my older ‘uns, piece ‘a cake! Don’t take me no time with them ‘cause they sit real still. The younger uns’, well that’s somethin’ different. They bring their toys with ‘em but some times it take more then that. That’s why I’d also like ta thank Sears fer the tazer they gave me fer bein’ on this show. It works real well with the li’l ‘uns. I can just snip an’ clip an’ put ‘em on inta bed.

Talk Show Host: So basically you’re saying that life was a lot harder before our kind friends at Sears helped you out?

Old Woman: Guess I am! But there’s still that problem I got ‘a disposin’ ‘a all them toe nail clippins. We done had our time ‘o glory by getting’ put in the Guinness Book ‘a Records. They told us we had the biggest bowl ‘a freshly cut toe nails they’d ever seen. But now I don’t know what ta do with ‘em no more. I been thinkin’ about donatin’ ‘em ta the Elmer’s glue plant down the street, but…

Talk Show Host: And that’s all the time we have for today, ladies and gentlemen! Next week tune in to hear how the Old Woman avoids the hassles of the city sewage system. Until next time, “sole long” from “Shoe Living”!

(insert dramatic out-take music here, followed by this week’s jingle)

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children she didn't know what to do.
She gave them a bath and she scrubbed them just so
Then she clipped and then snipped each nail of each toe.

Day 13: Tropical vacations—K.B.G.

deep breath

"Ahhhhhh. Smell that air! Drains the stress right out of me. It's taken me forever to get here. So much stuff to do all the time, I just couldn't get away until now. Those salty waves sound so inviting. Think I'll just sit here though, close my eyes, relax, soak up the sun, and drink my girly drink with a little green umbrella in it...just because I can. That sand feels so good between my toes. Makes me want to make a sand angel. But I won't for now 'cause it just feels so good to sit. No one's around. That's a change. I'm so used to people. It's nice to not hear any voices though. Just the sound of the sea. I hope everyone back home will be ok without me for a bit. Ok, stop. Enjoy this time while you have it! There's always work to be done. After all like Wilbur said, 'Jesus is the only one that can truly say "It is finished"'. So since everything will be there waiting for me when I get back I'll just sit here and enjoy...just because I can."

deep breath

"Ahhhhhh. Why is it so hard to chill? Listen to those trees. Almost as nice as the waves. The two together sure make a delightfully soothing sound. This orange drink sure is good. I'm going to have to get the recipe. I think it's hard to relax because I don't do it on a regular basis. It takes times like this to get me to chill and even then only a little. And this is going to the extreme to try and chill, this beach trip. I should find simpler ways to relax. I'm not saying that those waves and this sand aren't worth it. Ahhhhh, they are. It's funny how you can kind of see the sun even though your eyes are closed. It's so dang bright! But it's so incredibly warm and relaxing. I think I'm going to take a nap now...just because..."

phone rings to the tune of "When I was a Rich Girl" by Gwen Stefani

"Dang it! I forgot to turn my phone off! Who is it?"

"Hello, Miss Shore? I'm calling from the Red Cross. We'd like to thank you for giving blood in the past and just wanted to let you know that we are once again in need of O positive. We do have a shortage in our blood bank right now, and..."

click

"The Red Cross. They want my blood. They always want my blood. I thought I left this phone inside. Grrr! I'm all tense again. So much for my relaxation. I give up. Where's my bag. There it is, 'Tropical Vacation in a Bag'. I do have to say this was a worth while purchase though. Ok, let's make sure every thing's back in here:

Sun glasses...check.
Vial of sea salt water to rub under my nose...check.
Mini suntan lotion...check.
Little green umbrella for my drink...check.
White noise sound machine with ocean waves...check.
Small pail and shovel...check. (Didn't get to use that this time, darn!)
Foot-sized sand box...check.

"All right. My bubble's been burst by the blood suckers. As soon as I cross this threshold from the world of sunny porch dreams into my home of the-laundry-needs-folding reality, I shall be through. Finished. The end of my vacation is at hand! Alas, a lack!

"Though, it is Sunday. I suppose I could sit here for a bit longer. I think I shall...just because I can."

Day 12: Sacsayhuamán—J.M.R.

I've often wondered how a civilization can go from producing some of the greatest wonders of the world—the accomplishments of which are for the most part completely undocumented, from being wealthy beyond belief with some of the richest of natural resources, to one of the poorest and most run down, living mostly off of the relics of that past glory. I suppose the most obvious answer is sin. But as I sit here drinking my chicha morada, I wonder specifically about the Peruvian peoples. I first wonder how can a people not document something so great as why their city of Cuzco was built in the shape of a puma, that Sacsayhuamán was more than likely the head and that it's zigzag fortifications may have been the teeth of the beast? Why do we have no plans no notes on something that obviously took up a lot of time not for a few individuals but for most of the civilization because it was such a huge endeavor?

Sacsayhuamán. One Cuzco travel blog had this helpful but true note on how to say this intriguing Quechuan name: "the adultered Western pronunciation being Sexy Woman". Sacsayhuamán is an Incan ruin located just outside the city of Cuzco, Peru, and was allegedly built as a fortress during the time period of the Inca Pachacuti, the man who essentially created the Incan empire. Though the fortress is no where near its former grandeur, there are enough of the foundation stones from the towers, the remains of the bath houses, and of course the three bulwarks or walls left to give us a picture of its former greatness. The walls are the most baffling for archeologist and common man alike—no blade, of steal or grass, can slip in between the formation of these rocks. So flawless is the craftsmanship in fitting the stones together without mortar. It's rather like a giant jigsaw puzzle, no stone could fit in any other place then where it currently sits.

While Sacsayhuamán is a testament to the glory of the Incan empire, it also bears witness to the empire's defeat. Stories say that the Incans finally rebelled against the Spaniards that had settled in Cuzco. Manco Inca and his men took the fortress in 1536, and used it as there central base as they attacked the Spanish. The fighting lasted for weeks before the Spanish—who were outnumbered some say 10 to 1—finally broke free from the city and dispersed out around and into the surrounding countryside only to double back and face the Incas on the opposing hill from Sacsayhuamán. The Conquistadors eventually broke through the native's defences, scaled the walls, and fought them all back into the three towers of the fortress where they put them all to the sword.

And the rest, as we say, is history. A history written by the conquerors. A history that picks up where the undocumented glory of a defeated people left off. A history that left the Peruvian people in a lesser light, one that has left them to a defeated spirit as well as a defeated empire.

Day 11: Quantumfisix—J.M.S.

First of all, how does my little brother know these big words? Second of all, I love him, he’s adorable, and I’m going to petition the International Science Society to change the spelling because Micah’s way is better! He is going to be a very smart man when he grows up if his 10 year-old self is any indication of what he could become.

I have said it before, and I don’t mind saying again: There’s a reason I’m not in the Math Department. Or the Science Department for that matter. God knew just what He was doing when He put me in the English Department. That being said, I don’t mind one little bit sharing what I know about quantumfisix.

Being a child of the 80’s there are a few trendy things that have stuck with me over the years. 80’s and 90’s television is a case in point. I could spend a whole day talking about MacGyver. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and He-Man ranked pretty high up there too. Then there’s Bonanza, Wild Wild West, Star Trek (the original, Next Generation, and Deep Space Nine), The Incredible Hulk, Knight Rider, Remington Steele, and Father Dowling to name a few.

Then there was Quantum Leap. I was fascinated by the notion that someone could jump back and forth across time. The plot was that a quantum physicist named Dr. Sam Beckett was hard pressed to come up with tangible results for the project he was working on or the government would cut his funding, so he rashly stepped into the machine he was developing, called the Quantum Leap, before all the bugs were worked out. He vanished. And reappeared as someone else from an earlier time. Dr. Beckett performed a quantum leap at the end of each episode for five seasons, each time prefaced by his characteristic “Oh boy”, each time trying to right a wrong or fix a problem to make the world a better place, each time wishing his next leap would be the leap home. His side kick all along the way was a cigar smoking, straight talking observer from his quantum physics lab back home named Al who always appeared in holographic form and was Sam’s one link back to the time he came from. We’re left to wonder with the last episode of season 5 as to whether or not Sam ever made it back home or if he kept leaping, righting wrongs, and performing acts of kindness for the rest of his life. As a kid, I hoped he kept leaping just because of the utter fun and adventure of the concept. As an adult, I hope he made it home at some point, if only for a little while.