Beyond the Books

Last night when my eyes had gotten tired of reading, my slow TV remote took me to a place I had not been to in decades, The Miss America Pageant.  Luckily I didn’t wander in until the end of the night. I was like watching the car wreck on the side of the road. You know that you don’t really want to see that burned into your memory but there is something in us that wants to look. 

During the first click through the stations I heard the voice of Miss Alabama explain her belief that looking and feeling sexy was a wonderful thing. This wisdom is coming in a voice over as the curvy young woman strutted the catwalk in her evening gown. I tried to find something on the other channels but finally clicked back under the task of sociological research. It wasn’t toddlers and tiaras but I could see the similarities.  When I switched back I got glimpses of several of the talent performances for the last bunch of finalist.  I watched the young women do bits of Swan Lake on point, an Irish dance, several modern jazz numbers - Dancing with the Stars sort things, singers, operatic singers and pianists. I wondered at what point in their young lives did they worry about developing their “talent”.  I mean when did they figure that the equestrian sports or soccer skills that they were pursuing would not translate well to the contest stage. Were these very beautiful young women always on this track or did they find it later in life? Okay, one girl’s mother had been a Miss America so I was thinking it may have appeared on her radar pretty early on.

I have read the reports that viewership for all the Pageants has been slowly tanking over the years. As glitzy has all the lights and special effects, it didn’t look nearly as glamorous as it did to that child I was back in the 50’s and 60’s.  But the public can see underweight young women in beautiful formal gowns on whatever Award show is running the red carpet this week. We can all catch America’s Got Talent and find better skills. We won’t even have to be distracted by the print running across the bottom of the scream telling them that Miss “wherever” wants to travel in outer space one day. And these young women are well schooled to appreciate the marketing and “brand” of “the organization.” Several in their final one on one question and answer opportunity made it quite clear that they thought their question was very important and they were pleased to work to allow others to make good decisions for themselves…but they had to remember that they were representing “the organization.” I suppose learning to be PC and "vague speak" is a life skill.

The night before, I had watched the last segment of the Friday night evening news. The segment told of a young teenage girl in California that had gotten interested in cancer research and started hanging around the University laboratory. Well the short story is that she discovered a new experimental treatment for cancer. Testing has shown it to be effective in mice and they are expecting good results in humans. I understood the drawings of the cells and cancer and how the medicine was delivered but don’t ask me to explain with technical words. She went on to enter her discovery in the National Science Fair competition. She won. She gets a scholarship, too, I bet. She is an only child and it seems that she found her talents early. Still in high school she is interested in anything in science, chemistry, physics, mathematics and biology and probably a few sciences that are above my study level.  Looking at her sitting in class with her peers, science discovery girl appears to be another very good-looking, healthy young woman.  She also did not appear worried that her intelligence might interfere with her dating. I bet she would look very nice in a formal when she wants to go dancing.

Dreams of Alaska

 Winter here in Ohio. We have been enjoying a couple of beautiful, sunny, in the 50’s sort of days so this morning’s gray, chilly rain brings me back to the desk quickly. The dogs do not linger at the door nearly as long on the way back in. On the other hand the cat appears uninterested in lurking around the corner of the kitchen waiting to sneak out the door to explore.

Last night there was this bright idea of what I might write about today. But that was last night. Remember being told that I do not travel with a small notebook in which to scribble these brilliant ideas.  Like some of those pleasant night dreams the ideas of the evening fade away in the day light like the autumn fog.

I am busy finishing up my 2012 budget and trying to figure out what I have to trim back on in order to have enough gas money to make it back from Alaska. Notice I don’t question if I have enough money to go. It is the making it back that is looking a little short. I am working on it. Aren’t there movies made from women making their way west to California and finding themselves with a broken down car in some small Arizona desert town. She finds the help wanted sign and works herself into a better life. I am not sure that the story would sell as well about the RV running out of gas heading southeast across Oregon. I think if you tell someone you are planning a trip to Alaska the overall impression is that your life is looking pretty attractive already.

I have been reading What the Dog Saw and other adventures, by Malcolm Gladwell. Mr. Gladwell’s research skills are appreciated. Without retelling each topic just know that his essays are not really reassuring. The facts as they are written about and reviewed in hindsight just give me specific examples of situations where experts in the present can spout such assurance in the “knowing” of a truth only to find out later that, hum, perhaps they didn’t have all the facts.

I am still thinking hard about his differentiation between those things in life that are puzzles and mysteries. In his example he is talking about the work that is done by government intelligent officers. One thing is clear he feels that information to solve puzzles lie in the bits of information that others give you that fall into place and direct you towards one solution or answer. He described solving mysteries more as having to move through the world and “listen” and “observe” and maybe compare your impressions with other listeners and observers and weave possible answers out of the fragments that are around you. You only find out if you are actually right later.  Like I mentioned I am still contemplating what that means to those of us that are not in the “find the terrorist,” business.

Maybe I should pick up a small notebook after all.

Enough?

 Recently there has been a discussion on the WomenRV forum that I participate on regarding the cost of gas preventing individuals from traveling and pursuing their dreams. The discussion hit me in that though I have spent years of my life spending money it hasn't always been in following my own dreams. Now I am making much more independent decisions on what to spend my money on.

 

When I was much, much younger…. we are talking allowance days…my older brother and sister would sometimes come to me to borrow money because I was the one that hoarded her allowance. That didn’t last long. Forward to the 70’s and the graduate school years and you find me living on pennies.  In fact during those times my future husband would make the remark that he was impressed that I could live on pennies and did not expect expensive dates.  Early on I should have realized that in some ways I set the bar of expectations way too low for him.

On into the raising the family years, my husband reassessed my thriftiness and ability to be satisfied with pennies and suggested that my ability was not so much an ability to live on pennies but more the ability to live within pennies of my income. As the children grew older I might add that I developed an ability to live within pennies of the limits on my credit cards but this news was not announced. It just seemed important that though our lifestyle was not lavish, remember I was responsible for setting that original low expectation up front, I wanted some baseline of experiences for my children. 

My brother, wise older brother that he is in his eccentric way, once remarked that having “enough” is defined not by what you have but rather by what you think you need. Apparently through time I have always managed to keep a secret list of possible wants and needs that can be called on to absorb any disposable income that should appear in my bank account.

After the kids were through college and on their own with jobs and paying their own bills I did finally faced the credit card balances and was able to erase them. Now the real adventure in budgeting began. It continues to this day.

It is the age old question do you save and save for the rainy day or do you use your resources to support what matters in the here and now. Do you delay gratification because of some fear of what might come and what money you might need or do you live within pennies of your income because of what might come.  Because if you wait there may be no chance to do or see any of those dreams you were waiting to do or see.  What is the balance that is needed in your mind and in your bank account? Who will lend you the crystal ball to look into your future?

What is that Quote that floats around the internet about reaching the end of your life screeching “Wow” and sliding into the final day, worn out and spent up to the very last, but exhilarated because you gave it your all up to the very last moment. That is what I want for myself… if I get to choose.

What is enough? How many dreams to pursue? I just finished a book, The Adventurer's Handbook: Life Lessions from History's Great Explorers, by Mick Conegrey, that discussed among other issues the trials and tribulations that the great explorers of history kept traveling through. When some of them decided to turn around, when they continued on. When they made it back, when they didn’t.

Life is about choices and keeping our budgets in line is about our risk taking and acceptance that there are no promises that will take care of tomorrow, health wise or money wise, no matter what we plan for. But the "balance point" is very individual based on our personal needs.

How much is enough depends on what we choose to want. Anything else is out of our hands. Our lives are like one big “exploration” of the unknown. We can only control so many variables but if we never leave base camp we may be safe but we will have discovered very little.

You can't judge a book by its cover

 I watched the TV show on 20/20 last night about Facilitated Communication (FC). It is a process by which someone “facilitates” the movement of someone with Autism such that it appears that the individual with Autism is able to select keys on a keyboard and by typing they are able to express themselves. The story revealed last night spoke of a family’s plight after their teenage daughter, through FC, made references regarding sexual abuse by a family member. After being terrorized by police interrogators and prosecutors the case was dropped for lack of any credible evidence other than the FC. The sad part was that as far back as in the nineties FC had already been proven to be not valid. For example, if the person facilitating did not hear the question or was presented or was presented with a different picture than what the person with Autism heard or saw no intelligible answers were even recorded. The researchers never suggested that the facilitators were purposefully injecting themselves into the responses but that there was a “Savior Effect,” going on. So for the investigators to ignore that whole chunk of research was very damaging for the family. (They did later get a legal settlement from the police but no apology.)

Parents and educators and therapists that live and work with individuals effected by severe autism will be the first to understand that wanting to unlock the “voice” of the child is always up most in their dreams. Not being able to communicate with the world and the resultant frustration is often one of the roots behind the severe behaviors that are seen. In the 90’s I got to witness first hand parents and staff that believed that FC worked. Some of the theory purported to support why it “might” work even made some sense. Individuals with Autism often have trouble with motor planning, which means that they do not have good control over their brain directing their body to move. The facilitator was thought to help the body over come the initial “start” mechanism of motor planning. The interesting part about being involved in a field of study long enough is that you get to see some of the exciting discoveries and some of the stumbles.

Even before the results of professional studies on FC began to come out, many of us were concerned that observed results with students clearly depended upon who was doing the facilitating. Never a good sign for scientific methods…

What did happen about this same time though were advances in electronics and augmentative communication devices that made it easier for students with difficulty speaking to communicate. Sometimes they connected using a series of pictures. Some students were able to advance to using words or even spelling once they realized how powerful and helpful being able to communicate could be. Few individuals outside the field of language development understand how complex learning to communicate can be. Easy enough of those babies that learn naturally from birth but have a few sensory or brain processes scrambled at an early, early developmental age and all bets are off. Not all those students with Autism that appeared severely effected required another person to hold their arm or wrist anymore. Some managed to develop the motivation and the motor ability to move on their own. And some of them did have a lot to say. Those parents that wanted FC to work were not crazy. They just wanted to believe in the possibility of the child locked behind the silence.

You "can’t judge a book by its cover" is a habit that has to be shaped and practiced in a society that is more often known for the power of “first impressions” and marketing appeal. I find the same message important as the dogs and I visit in the health care facilities. What do we really know about what is working or still working in another’s brain, in another’s senses? We don't get to see the fMRI. We first need to presume that there is a human being in there with his or her own opinions and thoughts regardless of what appearances may demonstrate. If there is even one in ten that is thinking silently without words would we want to miss that one? And the wonder is that with therapy some of those individual find a way.  But the likelihood increases if someone believes enough to keep looking and listening for them.

So no, FC was not a valid technique for communication but it did remind folks in the field to keep hunting. The blessing is that developments in technology were able to follow that did open up possibilities for many individuals with disabilities.

Odds and Ends

 I left my cell phone at my stepmother’s assisted living apartment yesterday. When I got home yesterday afternoon I called her from my land line and left a message on her answering machine letting her know that I had left my phone and that I would drive back down this morning to pick it up. I did wonder what her response was going to be when the “crowing roster” alarm I set went off after dinnertime. I tried to warn her when I left the message that when the alarm went off she might ask one of the aides come in and turn it off. You know how those snooze buttons keep working every five minutes. 

And, no, I was not surprised this morning when I picked up the cell phone and saw that she had left me two voice messages yesterday. With the first one she called the cell phone to tell me that she couldn’t find my phone in the apartment. The second message she left me was to tell me that she had found my phone.  Maybe that crowing rooster wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The phone had slipped out of my pocket and down the side of a chair. I did not have the heart to explain the irony of the messages she left, but then logic has never been her strong point.

On an unrelated topic, I was listening to an NPR program yesterday about Stephen Hawkings. It was an interview with one of his assistants who recently has written a book about him. Not her first I don’t think. She talked about the changes in his physical strength over the years. He has used computer technology for years to write his book and communicate. She said that though he has some set “phrases” that are useful in everyday lie and care that he can activate with one click most of his theoretical writing is built one word at a time. Years ago he used to be able to use his finger to click his choices moving through a series of word scans.  At this point of his disease he is only able to use a muscle in his cheek and it may take him five minutes to find and select his next word.

I should be able to make some profound statement regarding the passion for words and the need to express one’s discoveries and ideas that are represented in that effort. But mostly I am at a lost. Few words have ever cost me that much.

Little Cabin in the Woods

 Several years ago I read the novel Cold Sassy. I enjoyed it a great deal. I later picked up what I thought was the sequel Leaving Cold Sassy and was amazed and disappointed to discover that the author had never finished her second novel. I mean, “How dare she!”  (As others have mentioned the computer does not capture words with a sarcasm font.)

A different writer had taken up the notes and fragments of the story line that had been started by the original author and produced the second book. She shared that in the ten years following the publication of the first novel the author had always intended to write and finish the second.  Hey, I believe that because the first couple of chapters had a wonderful feel to them before the story line began to wander as a result of the original author not working out where the story was going to take its characters. Then the writer shared the authors story of the last ten years. Again, “How dare she.” I thought.  Lets ignore the diagnosis and treatment for cancer that intervened. Lets ignore the author finding the perfect retreat cabin in the woods. Lets ignore her traveling on book tours and her popularity on the speaking tours. And what is with that spending time with grandchildren? Did the author really think that life was more important than her responsibility to her demanding readers for one more completed book? Confronting my disappointment did make me think about the limits of my own expectations. 

The Blogger, Tioga George, http://blog.vagabonders-supreme.net/, blog is another example of readers sometimes claiming the right to tell an author what they should or should not do. I especially like when they complain that he isn’t traveling enough or is going to the “wrong” places to live. The blog is about him and his life.We definitely understand that we are free to read or not read editorial writers. So the concept is not lost on us.

Another Blogger that I have followed, Ara and Spirit, http://theoasisofmysoul.com/ , used to get the occasional slam from his followers that his writing was too dark and depressing to read. The fact that Ara had lost his son to cancer and his travel and blog were his way of dealing with that loss was never hidden from the readers. His beautiful photographs were never diminished by his words but have always seemed to stand in witness to the depth of his spirit and strength.

When do we cross the line from reading a novel or sharing the thoughts of other individuals to feeling that the world is about us and if it doesn’t go our way then something is not right. What would that world actually look like if our expectations for a story line were all we saw or read?

I remember walking out of the theater years ago after watching Catch 22 and my date asking me if I liked it. Well no I didn’t “like” it but it sure was a good move and I appreciated that it made me think hard about stuff I might not have wanted to think about otherwise.

Luckily I don’t have any pressure from my slim “following” to entertain them one way or another. Now if a find my retreat cabin up in the mountain…see if you ever hear from me again.