I was reading a book on salt this weekend.  Yes, I realize that "salt" is not a sexy topic.  Or is it?  In the first few pages I learned that many people thought salt could put that extra "zing" in their relationships (I somehow don't see chasing your latest crush down with a saltshaker as a good pick-up technique).  I also learned that salt was once more valuable than gold in some countries; that people thought you could drive out demons with salt; that there are many, many different kinds of salt, and many different ways of making it; that world trade wouldn't have taken off without salt;  and that the words "salary" and "soldiers" originally came from "salt" (so THAT'S WHY soldiers has that "l") because Julius Caesar often paid his legions in salt (see point #1).  Hmm.  Never thought of any of that.

Which is why I like reading.  There are some times when my life does not seem like an orderly dot-to-dot puzzle but rather a messy word search with half the letters missing and coffee spilled on the other half.  But I step into a book, and the world resolves itself into an orderly pattern.  I try out new ideas, soak up new knowledge. forget about the pressing problems outside, and, when I'm done, re-emerge a little more relaxed, a little more engaged with my world.  You could say that books add some flavor to my life...kind of like salt.

Why do you read?

Loving the Log From The Sea Of Cortez

If you were to ask me about a time when I felt most free, most human, I would say it was the two weeks I spent as a school chaperone on the Denis Sullivan, the research schooner that sails out of Discovery World and takes students on educational tours around various bodies of water.  On our trip, we spent two weeks sailing through the Bahamas, stopping at two research stations and learning the tricks of navigating a sailing ship.  I loved it.  I loved every minute of it, every minute of standing watch at 3 am, every storm-filled, student-vomiting, sunburnt minute of the trip, for never have I been so engaged in my environment, being and absorbing rather than thinking and anticipating.  It was wonderful.
That's Steinbeck on this research trip with the marine biologist Ed Ricketts and the crew of their charter in Log From the Sea of Cortez.  If you've only read the Mice and Men or Grapes of Wrath Steinbeck, you haven't even begun to tap into the beauty of Steinbeck's language that flavors his non-fiction writing.  In Log, Steinbeck (NOT a marine biologist) goes on what he simply describes as "an adventure", a quest after knowledge that he may never use and that may or may not benefit anyone else, but for him, it is the knowing and finding that matters.  I get this.  There are times when you simply want to know, to encounter, to expand and to embrace, not for any precisely calculated end, but just because you can.  It makes you alive, part of the mystery, part of the game, part of the organism that is this planet.  He seems so happy, even when things are not working out as planned...because things are working themselves out, and part of the joy is watching how that happens.  I would like to do that more often...step away from my life, and in doing so, actually live.

Does being rude work?

There's a picture making its way through the internet sphere of Governor Jan Brewer shaking her finger angrily in the face of President Obama.  Governor Brewer, the Arizona governor who authored that state's aggressive anti-immigration laws, has been at odds with the President since the law was passed, but it was this particular interaction that was caught on camera and then broadcast for all to see.  NPR posted the picture with an article entitled "The Public Respects Civility but Rewards Rudeness."  http://www.npr.org/2012/01/26/145910143/the-public-respects-civility-but-rewards-rudeness

As soon-to-be members of the adult world (perhaps members already!)  who will be expected to interact with people you may or may not like -- and who may or may not like you! -- what do you think about the best approach to getting what you want?  My grandma would frequently trot out the "you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar" line when I was angrily and vocally planning my next response to that person who got under my skin. And...I can see her point.  But what do you think?  Is there a time or place for being rude?  Is being rude a dangerous choice?  And how does our attitude toward civil behavior help or hurt us as a society?

Why I write.

I am exceptionally unskilled on the basketball court.  Give me a baseball bat and I'm more likely to break someone's shins than to actually hit a ball.  I could run a marathon...in two months, with lots of rest stops, and a Segway.  So sports is not my thing. Nor is home repair, or computer programing, or anything involving science and explosions. But words...now there's a piece of equipment I know how to use.  I made friends with words as a small child, reading books in the pokey branches of the tree in our back yard.  Words have stood by me as I saw the differences between "creepy" and "horrific," realized that words like "delicious" and "affluent" had their own music, argued my way out of detention, realized that a few well-placed polysyllabic offerings in a resume gave me an edge over other candidates. I like to write.  It is an art form, a mode of getting my (obnoxious) opinion across, a means of advocating for myself and others.  As a writer, I have edited a magazine, published newsletters, wrote manuals on community education (in Spanish), crafted grant proposals, written short stories and poems.

What is your relationship with writing?  Have you enjoyed it?  Hated it?  What is it about writing that you either enjoy...or that makes you want to hide under a desk whenever the looseleaf comes out?

The Importance of Language

When my daughter Fiona was a baby, I taught her "baby sign" -- simple hand gestures for words like please,  more, juice, and (her favorite) "doggie".  At 13 months, even before "Mama" and "Daddy," Fiona was talking up a storm.  But having lived in countries where I couldn't speak the language, I am sympathetic to small children -- they have wants and needs and feelings and (even) opinions, and yet they can't express themselves.  Language is such a gift to us -- can you imagine what life would be like without it?

Language, speech, is seen as so important by our culture that it is protected by the First Amendment. You should be able to voice your opinion regarding government, economics, business, religion...you can use your words to advocate for what you think is important in life.  I support that fully.  And yet demonstrations like the one that took place in West Allis on Saturday (http://www.jsonline.com/news/milwaukee/129103613.html) give me pause.  When what you're saying is designed to harm another group of people, members not by choice or preference or free will  but simply by the color of their skin, should you be allowed to say it?  These people claim to have cause, to be advocating for their own safety...so does that justify their language and approach?

What do you think?