For some reason my thoughts of late have led me to appreciate "things" more than normal. But the "things" aren't always all that related to one another.
The novel Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank has been on my mental reading list since 1994. I'm finally reading it. Oops. The book is set back in the 1950s and revolves around the reality of nuclear war in the United States. It's made me think a lot about not so much what I'd do if my country were to be obliterated by a nuclear weapon but what I'd do if I were forced to "regress" in technology - if, for example, electricity no longer existed. What if transportation was not as simple as turning the starter of an engine and I couldn't just run to the grocery store when I got a craving for ice cream, and water was something I prized as a necessary drink and not as a means of washing, a medium for recreational swimming, or the makings of a relaxing, artistic fountain? And all of this reading and pondering has led me to appreciate two things more than I ever have.
First is the passengers who were aboard United Airlines Flight 93 on September 11, 2001. I think of how confused and troubled the country was when the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were devastated that day, and I can only shudder at the thought of what else would have occurred had Flight 93 reached its destination, presumably the Capitol or the White House. It makes me wonder to myself...if I had the opportunity to stop the destruction of the building and/or persons that represent my country, would I do it? I believe it's a worthy cause. But would I really be brave enough to do something if it were really, truly my life that was going to be what made the difference? In light of Alas, Babylon, I have a deeper appreciation for what "symbols" of a country are worth, and I entirely have a new perspective of and respect for the passengers aboard Flight 93 who did not just accept the inevitable. That's a big thing.
The second is really not worth mentioning in light of the deep, serious paragraph just typed, but it points out that even though "big things" count, so do little things. Like coffee. On the morning of my ponderings about Flight 93, I had made myself a particularly good, smooth mug of coffee. It was a big deal by any stretch of the imagination, but...man, oh man, was it enjoyable! As I go through my mundane, normal life, as I dream about the "big things" that might be done someday, am I taking the time to appreciate all of the little, amazing things that are gracing my life every day? Or am I too focused on waiting for a big thing to happen? I think that if I keep my sights fixed on the big things, I will be altogether insensitive to the little things, and that would be an extreme misfortune.
Speaking of coffee...in some senses, this guy does not even deserve my recognition, but in case you haven't heard yet about DaVido, he's a New York nightclub singer whose self-proclaimed goal in life ("big thing") is to have an album of his sold at Starbucks. He wrote a song called "The Java Jitter," inspired by a trip to Sbux and a conversation with a hot barista, and tried to solicit it to Starbucks but they rejected it. I suppose we all must have dreams, but this guy cannot take "no" for an answer, so instead he is attempting to win his way in by busting into Starbucks stores, attempting to shoot a video, and sequentially getting tossed out because it's against Starbucks policy to allow recording within its stores. He has now posted a 7-minute "music video" of this experience Perhaps I'm slightly biased because I find DaVido's song and dancers quite distasteful, but I find his methods to be entirely disrespectful, which certainly is not the way to sell one's self to a corporation. If he can't adhere to Starbucks' rules, why in the world would they want to give him a chance to represent them? Call me a Starbucks softie, but I think they're entirely in the right. Establishments are still entitled to the right to ensure a reasonable atmosphere! And recording labels are still entitled to the right to select the music they wish to market! And besides that, I think people should be nice to each other.
So love your country and enjoy your coffee, but don't get disillusioned by either.
2 comments:
I remember reading Alas, Babylon in 9th grade in Mrs. Nelson's Honors English class. Sadly, the only thing I remember about that book is "The chickens are missing". Anna and I used to repeat that all the time ... in fact, I have a pair of socks with chickens on them from Anna in honor of "the chickens are missing" line. Weird the things we remember. And sorry this comment is totally irrelevant to anything else in your blog *lol*
I was just going to say the same thing. "The chickens are missing!!" I honestly don't even remember the revelance of the statement though. I think there was something to do with coffee. And I think the pastor ends up marrying the one guy's sister-in-law. And there was something about sputnick. It was a pretty good book, but wow--was that a long time ago!! Mrs. Nelson's English class. I think Melissa was in that with Amber and I. Maybe JP too. I remember one time when I had to link arms with Brian Felt as we read part of a Tale of Two Cities. That freaked me out!
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