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May 31, 2006
And...
WHERE DID MAY GO? HOW CAN IT BE june TOMORROW????????
?
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Moral Codes
We've had quite the Movie Weekend. Last Friday we rented The Family Stone, which was a waste of money and time. Don't see it. Call me or email to get a fuller explanation. Sheesh. What a waste.
But we also had fun movies:
Bruce Almighty
The Stand
(The Movie Gallery on East Brainerd had a rent-one-get-one free deal. So we loaded up.)
Both of these movies -- in fact, all three -- had 'alternative morality codes' which ruled the movie universes. Want to read about them? Then by all means, do.
The Family Stone assumes that the solution to Life's Problems is finding oneself. Maslow called this self-actualization. The army called it Be All You Can Be. In The Family Stone, all the characters were unhappy and messed up because they were emotionally constipated. Once they had emotional enemas (with the necessary and accompanying mess), they switched boyfriends/girlfriends (or were reaffirmed in their lifestyle choices) and were happy by the next Christmas. To summarize: Problem: hardly anybody is with the right mate. If they were, they wouldn't be so offensive and unenlightened. Solution: steamroll anybody you need to -- lie, deceive, steal, and get stinkin' drunk -- in order to really Find Yourself. Then you'll be happy with yourself.
Bruce Almighty is slightly more complex. It's peppered with Scripture quotes and allusions to a god who is familiar to us Christians, but this movie's god is more like a Monet or Seurat, producing an impression, not a portrait, of his character. It's a deceptive movie, because in the midst of this (necessarily incomplete) impression, there are quite moving and uplifting speeches which really wrench us. Taken at face value, I really really like this movie, although it has one problem: it assumes that the dysfunctional characters can fix themselves. Bruce is given the god's power (at least the omnipotence part). At first he uses his newfound omnipotence to benefit only himself but soon finds himself without his girlfriend, because he's not loving*. Given a stern talking-to by the god-character, Bruce starts curtailing his omnipotence except in cases where it will benefit others. Eventually he Finds Himself and learns that he doesn't need his god-like omnipotence to truly make a difference. All he needs is his normal human ability to influence those around him, and this makes the world better. At least his world. To Summarize: The Problem: Bruce's life stinks. And, boy, does he ever know it! The Solution: You'd think it was god-like omnipotence, right? Nope! We don't need god! Just tap into the influence you already have inside yourself and you'll make everything peachy-keen!
Finally, Stephen King's The Stand. It was a TV movie back in 1994. I was a young, naive (!) teen then, and the bits and pieces of it that I watched really had an influence on me. I read the book too, and that was my first exposure to crass language. I digress...the plot goes like this: the government is developing a supersecret superflu. There's a containment breach, and within two weeks that summer, 99.9% of the US is dead**. The survivors begin dividing themselves into two camps: Good and Evil. The Good people all dream of Mother Abigail, an old black woman in Nebraska who is the leader of the good people. She tells them, either in reality or in dreams, to go to Boulder, which will be the place to gather strength till it comes time to fight the Evil. Meanwhile, across the Rockies, the Evil people are gathering in Las Vegas, where Randall Flagg organizes them and fixes up their city. Oh, and he's not human. He's either The Devil or The Devil's Puppet. Loose ends abound. Loose ends get tied up: the Good people deal with their ups and downs, Nadine the Devil's Bride escapes Boulder (and finds that being The Devil's Bride is anything but romantic), four of the Good Side's men walk to Las Vegas and stand against Evil. Hence, The Stand. Of the three movies, I'd say this is the most true***. It takes seriously the problem of Good vs. Evil, at least more so than The Family Stone and Bruce Almighty, in which the worst problems those people contend against are just interpersonal discomfort. Anyway, To Summarize: The Problem: Oh no! Evil Randall Flagg (aka The Walkin' Man) is stirring people up to nuke the Good People! Did he engineer the superflu? Did he survive? Will history repeat itself? Will he strike again? The Solution: Good just needs to stand up against evil. God will intervene. The movie gently alludes to (though never explicitly refers to) the passage in Ephesians that tells us four times to stand--and again, the allusion leaves out the necessity of being clothed in the armor of God. And standing up to The Dominion of the Devil does no good unless we're clothed in the armor of God--protected by Christ himself.
------
*At this point, my above-average doctrine training says, "Duh! Totally depraved people use power to benefit themselves. They really don't care -- at least, not enough to change -- about hurting others in the process."
**Presumably, the whole world's population is decimated. But that doesn't come into this story.
***If I were forced to pick one of the three. None is true, so what am I comparing here, shades of gray? The bottom line is, none of these is Truth, so they all might as well be pitch black.
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Holy Drinking
Why am I slightly surprised and, admittedly, titillated (like we're doing something wrong) when I walk into a church-people gathering and there's drinking?
Last year, I went to a church gathering (elders invited us to a round table discussion of church's vision) at an elder's house and the host had a beer cooler. The pastor brought three bottles of wine.
Monday, when The Dude and I got to the Memorial-Day-Party-hosted-by-a-church-family, all the men were outside playing volleyball, while the women were inside sipping glasses of wine.
Posted by The Newest Worker at 10:52 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
May 25, 2006
Daddy's Little Thief
That's "Daddy's Little Thief" as opposed to "Daddy's Little Girl."
A young woman--maybe 18, 19 years old, dressed in the slightly lascivious fashion that teenagers tend to wear more than professionals do--comes to my register with a pair of too-tight pants and a halter top. (Yes, she had the 'natural support' for a halter top. She was already wearing a halter top. It's not the best look for her body type.)
I rang it up--40 dollars or so--and she gave me a brand-new, never-used credit card. It had a man's name on it, let's say "Howard Smith." It wasn't signed. I asked for ID, and she didn't provide it. I told her we could not run credit cards that didn't belong to the person making the purchase, and she said "Oh, it's my dad's card. He gave it to me. I have his PIN number."
[By the way, has anyone else noticed that "PIN number" is redundant? What you're saying is "Personal Identification Number number." Oh well.]
So I call my manager and ask what I should do.
Me: "Hi, Manager #2." (That's this manager's page-code, just so you know. He's "oh-two.") "I have a customer here who would like to use her father's credit card to purchase some clothes. The card's not signed, but she says she's got his PIN number."
02: hesitantly, "Well, I suppose it's ok. Run it as a debit and let her go." Sighs.
So I tell her to run it as a debit card ("Swipe it through the PIN pad and follow the instructions on the screen"), but the register declines the card:
The transaction cannot be completed with this card. The customer may call their financial institution if they have any questions. Press [continue] and continue with a different form of payment.
I read it aloud to the girl, which is what we're supposed to do, and she looks confused. I say, "What this means is that the card's been declined." She looks less confused. I tell her she can call the bank or credit card company from the phone at the back of the store in Customer Service, and that I'd be happy to take another form of purchase.
(By the way, I'd already bagged the clothes while I was on the phone with 02.)
So she puts her hand on the bag of clothes as if to take it and says "I'll just call from the back. Thanks!"
However, I also put my hand on the bag and say, "Ok. The line back there is pretty busy, and if it's a long line, they won't ring up your clothes there. You can take these with you" (and I unbag the clothes, tucking the bag back under my counter) "and pay for them after you're done calling."
She leaves.
LATER: I am at the back, at Customer Service, logging out and getting ready to go home, when I run into 02. I tell him that 1) her card was declined and 2) she tried to take the bagged clothes, but I wouldn't let her because she hadn't paid for them, and 02 was relieved. It also occurs to me that the credit card was absolutely brand new--there were no buffs or scuffs or scrape marks on it from swiping. Nothing. It was pristine. She probably stole it out of dad's mail (or someone else's mail, because she never did show me her ID!) and tried to pass it off. Whew. Keep a close eye on your mail, my friends. And pray you get sharp-eyed, smart cashiers like me.
Posted by The Newest Worker at 11:29 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Japanese Lady
This is a cashier's tale.
I always check credit/debit cards for a signature. If there is no signature, I ask for ID. So here comes an Asian woman, and I tell her the total, and she gives me the card. The back was signed in Japanese.
I wouldn't be able to tell if a Japanese signature was forged. So I asked for her ID. She handed me her Japanese passport.
I couldn't find her photo (because the photo page was covered with another slip she had tucked into her passport--it was in Japanese too, so I couldn't tell what purpose it was fulfilling in the woman's passport).
The name on her passport matched the name on her card. So I swiped it through. When I sat her signature slip down with my pen, she looked a little surprised (but I could be wrong) and picked up the pen. She then had to look for the signature line.
It made me wonder: How do Japanese people sign for their credit purchases in Japan? Is the signature line vertical? And what subtle body language cues signal annoyance among Japanese people?
Posted by The Newest Worker at 11:12 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
May 24, 2006
Deep Sea Diving (or just Diving in the Deep End of the Pool)
It's rare that I unearth memories that I've buried. They're not gone, but they were so painful at the time that I've just let other stuff cover them up. Like how ancient cities are still there, but the archaeologists have to dig up years and years of mud and silt to get to 'the good stuff.' These memories are still there, but they have been covered over by years of day by day occurences.
It's a mercy that these things don't stay in our immediate memories, isn't it? Maybe this is one way the Lord fulfills his promise to comfort the mourning and heal the brokenhearted.
I know that at the time, that was my mantra: that the Lord heals the brokenhearted and binds up all their wounds. Because I was broken, into a thousand tiny little shards. (Note the past tense verb in the previous sentence.)
You know how, when you play in the pool, and dive for the diving stick at the bottom of the deep end (12 feet!) and you get to the bottom but you have to breathe now--but the surface of the water is all the way up to the top and you have to wait to breathe till you get to the top? That's how that conversation was for me. Whew! I really had to catch my breath after that deep-diving, archaeology-dig chat we had!
But it was good to unearth, then let the memory slip back into the recesses where it belongs. Let it rest. Let it stay buried.
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May 23, 2006
Psalm 16
Dear ____,
This is a good thought to set a fence around what we talked about earlier today. I'm so very happy for you, and will continue to be in prayer for you.
A Miktam of David.
Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
I say to the LORD, "You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from you."
As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
in whom is all my delight.
The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;
their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
or take their names on my lips.
The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the LORD who gives me counsel;
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the LORD always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
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According to Steve H. ...
...who was my pastor last year:
Unless Jesus is first and best and most in our lives, nothing else with be worth anything.
And according to a pastor (I can't remember his name) at a Big Church in Hilo (and I can't remember the church's name):
All sunshine and no rain makes a desert. Do you want your life to be a desert or a garden?
Posted by The Newest Worker at 10:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Saturday, 20 May
I have got to tell you all about last Saturday's shift. I don't have time right now, but remind me to blog about the Japanese lady and Daddy's Little Thief.
Posted by The Newest Worker at 08:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Hit and Run
They're repaving parts of our apartment complex parking lot, which makes the rest of it terribly crowded--where will all the people park? Here, there, and everywhere, apparently.
A young woman pulled out of her spot last night (without looking!) just while we were driving by, and hit our front bumper. We pulled into a nearby open spot just to clear the driving area, not assuming that she'd run away, but she did.
So now we have a dented-in front bumper and no information about the perp except that 'her car was gray?'
Sheesh.
Posted by The Newest Worker at 08:50 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
wildemania
My funny Wildeman story...
I was a freshman, second semester, and being honest on my exercise reports for PE II ("I didn't work out this week." "I exercised for 10 minutes this week.") earned me a failing grade at midterm time. (I guarantee that many of my classmates lied on their workout reports and earned passing grades. Grr.)
In any case, I had to drop the class, and Wildeman, being one of my advisors, had to sign my drop/add slip. I came to him at the beginning of my Speech (Rhetoric) Class, wh. met in Sanderson 215, though there were only about 10 of us.
I gave my request, and he blurted in his loud manner, "What kind of idiot does it take to fail a 1-credit-hour PE class?"
Being a freshman and not knowing his particular wit, I reared up my head, rolled my neck beautifully, and retorted:
"Apparently, my kind of idiot, sir."
(I especially like the 'sir' at the end. Heh, heh. It's funny now, because he's Wildeman and would do anything for you. He just comes off gruff at first.)
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May 19, 2006
I don't know who's counting down more, but this is fyi:
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Just for fun
Posted by The Newest Worker at 04:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Oops. A correction
duh! I realized the previous ticker could not be right.
Posted by The Newest Worker at 04:20 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
May 17, 2006
hard to believe!
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Identity
Ok, I haven't blogged in a while. I've been reading (and lurking around) others' blogs very faithfully, and have been wondering what sort of blog-identity (shall I coin a term? blog-dentity!) I want here.
There are college bloggers. Photo bloggers. Grad student bloggers. Mombloggers. Wifeybloggers. Single bloggers. I don't know where I fit, though--many of my friends are single and I'm uncomfortable blogging about being a young wife because I don't want to 'rub it in' too much, but that's what I think about most of the time anymore. I am not a photographer, and I don't want to be a wifeyblogger, talking all the time about how a woman's BEST PLACE is by her husband's side--don't get me wrong! I love being a wife! But I get irritated by writers who say the BEST THING and ONLY WORTHWHILE THING for a woman to do is be a wife and mother.
So I'm in a state of flux--
Any thoughts? Advice? Insight?
Posted by The Newest Worker at 04:41 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
May 15, 2006
all of us in my family
live far apart from each other. Mom and Dad live in Colorado, Sister and Brother-in-Law live in Nothern Georgia, Grandma and Papa live in PA, Aunt lives in Chicago, and my in-laws live in Kansas (I've grown to love them, too, and miss them).
There are family-close friends I miss too. Good friends of my family's, the Salt Family (if you knew them, you'd know why their nickname here is 'Salt')--Mr. Salt was a teacher of mine in high school, I've known both their daughters for as long as they've been around, Mrs. Salt was one of my bridesmaids--Good Friends from Central Pennsylvania--Church Family from Central Pennsylvania...on and on and on the list goes.
But 4th of July is coming:
Mom and Dad will be there. Sister and Brother-in-Law will be there. The Dude and I will be there. Sister's inlaws will be there, of course. And the Salt family are flying down too! Mr. and Mrs. Salt and the Salt Girls! Woohoo! Everyone. I can't wait.
Posted by The Newest Worker at 05:37 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
May 07, 2006
Why I Hate being Lazy
1. People love hanging out with you, but they soon realize you never get anything done.
2. It's terrible to live with the guilt that I should be doing something else.
3. I can always find something else to do besides my responsibilities.
4. The standard always shifts; what will be "good enough" tomorrow certainly was not up to snuff yesterday.
5. It's easy to justify laziness by saying "I'm paying attention to my relationships" or some such excuse.
6. It becomes way too easy to rope the people in your life into doing those very important things for you. It also becomes way too easy only to have people in your life who will be the go-to people for you.
7. Knowing that the Lord does love excellence, that he tells us over and over that laziness is a terrible sin, but telling yourself that "unlike those perfectionists, I'm not controlled by an external cultural standard."
8. Telling yourself that "I'll never achieve perfection, so it's useless to even try."
9. Unlike the perfectionists who do tasks for people, I never seem to do tasks for people, at least not without constant reminders. It gets wearing to be the friend/sister/parent/spouse of a lazy person, because I always say "Oh, I forgot!"
10. Realizing that God's grace covers my foibles and follies, but hating that my personality or spunk or 'perspective' (especially compared to those perfectionists!) won't connive him into cutting it for me--he already did, and his perfection is damning to my lazy imperfection even while being the propitiation for that very laziness.
11. Struggling every day to learn new habits, to work against my lazybones self to do what's required of me. It's an uphill battle every day, and there's never any coasting!
12. Unlike perfectionists, I have a 'pop-psychology' term for my sinful pattern. Laziness sounds really harsh, so I just call myself a 'procrastinator.'
Posted by The Newest Worker at 11:10 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Before I Forget
My todo list for tomorrow:
Iron for The Dude. Also my blouses.
Resume...network...come on you can do it!
Finish those Mother's Day packages. You know the mail takes forever to get to rural Kansas! Get them in the mail tomorrow afternoon!
Call that doctor and reschedule.
Lunch with Heather at noon.
Redd up!
Clean bathrooms.
Thanks for reading. I'll be blogging tomorrow (hopefully).
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