No One Could Say the News is Boring

When I was growing up, the only access to news was newsreels before the movies - and the weekly local newspaper that detailed such important events such who poured at which gathering of women. My grandfather would sit at our radio console, more in amazement at being able to hear distant stations than any interest in events occurring beyond our small town. The big war was over and we all were busy trying to forget there was a larger world than where we lived. We wanted life to be predictable and dependable. Such blissful ignorance!

Now technology provides us with a kaleidoscope of images. We wait for the next installment from Libya to learn if its oppressive dictator has been found. Three major earthquakes shake the ground in the Americaswithin a few days . My beloved "castle" of the Smithsonian, the National Cathedral, and the Washington Monument sustained damages and the images play out in front of me. Now we watch as an unpredictable hurricane named Irene makes its way up the Eastern coast.

I expect there are people who continue to live in the kind of cacoon that I did when I was growing up. Some people are simply too poor to care about anything but their daily survival. Others find the news of the day simply too deafening and deliberately shield themselves from the constant flow of information. Still others reach "compassion fatigue" and turn their attention to manageable details of their personal lives.

Questions about the reliability of what we call news complicates our understanding of what actually is important or even truthful. Some of the distortions and outright lies come from people who have power and want to keep it. Syria's "official news" is that its protesters are a rabble with guns who therefore need to be gunned down and controlled.

Others are well-meaning leaders who think they have the truth, when all they have is the proverbial tail in the fable of blind men touching an elephant. Wiki leaks is one effort to expose what otherwise would remain hidden (whether you believe they serve a legitimate purpose or who are a gang of illegal hackers). This morning I read that they have released information saying that McCain in 2009 argued that we should supply arms to Qaddafi. How differently events would be playing themselves out today under a President McCain!

The unpredictability of this monster hurricane - and the accompanying barrage of news information - actually does a disservice to ordinary people trying to make decisions about their own safety. Scenarios range from 20 feet of water at JFK to a path straight through the heart of Manhattan. I ask myself what I would do if we were still living in NYC's  "New Jersey suburbs. Would I be buying emergency supplies and be planning to ride it out? Or would I fill the car to the brim with what I deem most precious and head westward?

I chuckled at the comment on CNN online that you can always tell a New Yorker - but you can't tell them much. An apt description that a New Yorker might wear with pride. But if a couple of weeks ago, someone said Washington DC would experience an earthquake, would you have believed it?

Meanwhile, stay tuned and stay connected. Who knows what unimaginable surprise is in the wings for next week.

Honoring Norway's Month of Mourning

May Norway continue to embrace contemporary changes

to its country, the multiculturalism 

that one terrorist tried to obliterate

with the deaths of Norway's future leaders. 

May Norway remember its roots,

its hardworking people

and farms wrested from the land

wherever the soil would yield crops.

May Norway remember its resistance

to the Nazi invasion of its country,

its refusal to surrender to a right-wing political movement

that would rid Norway of everyone who did

not fit Hitler's vision's of purity.

May Norway gain strength from the beauty of its land.

High rugged mountains, fjords, and high waterfalls.

And its dedication

to not sacrifice their country's pristine places

in exchange for greed.

From the northern most reaches of small fishing villages

to its graceful cities,

may Norway always remember

those who died so tragically,

May Norway teach us all about the importance of tolerance

and that it is possible to grieve with dignity.

If They Wrote Soap Operas Like This . . .

If they wrote soap operas based on the news of the day, no one would purchase the scripts.

Reason? Too unbelievable. The news is enough to make any person wonder if they have fallen down some Alice-in-Wonderland rabbit hole into an world so imaginary, you couldn't dream this stuff up in a month of Sundays.

The stock market's Dow has fallen almost 500 points this morning. Watching it gyrating around so much is enough to give you whip lash. Unspeakable poverty and children die by the thousands in a tragedy beyond words to describe it.The Syrian dictator continues to slaughter his own people. Gorbachev says Russia is sliding back into USSR days. One of the candidates running for president denys climate change - after all, his state produces more carbon dioxide emissions than any other state. And the Tea Party lady from Minnesota will bring back $2 gas when she is president.  Need I go on with the list?

A trip to the grocery store restores my sanity. Fully covered Somali women push their carts pass products to please Hispanic shoppers. Background sounds of languages from eastern Europe and southeast Asia are reminders of people who have come here seeking better lives. Along with white folk who have never been in downtown Minneapolis or St. Paul, whose ancestors came here for the same reason. Every one is civil to each other. Tall people help shorter people reach goods from top shelves.No bumper-car wars with shopping carts. No protesters trying to hammer their particular ideology into people's minds. Just ordinary folks with families to feed, jobs to worry about, and young children to educate - too young to have heard they are "different."

If I were choosing, the world I would design would look like my local grocery store. A place where everyone is welcome and there is enough food to go around. A place where appearing different is not an immediate indicator that "they" are to be feared. And where "appearing different" has nothing to do with respect, decency, and honesty. Because all of us are ordinary people.

A Sweet Encounter

It has been a week of blissful summer - the way summer is meant to be. Blue skys and fluffy white clouds. Decent temperatures and warm sunshine.The kind of time to spend every available minute outdoors.

To take advantage of this gift of good weather after a horrific summer, we decided to meander the gravel roads through our favorite wildife refuge. And received another gift - a chance encounter with a coyote.

I saw him first as he rounded a bend on the road ahead. At first, we thought it was a fawn, although late in the season for small baby deer. Alert, he (or she) stopped and looked at us, down the stretch of road that separated us from him. We turned of the car and sat motionless to see what he might do. Often wildife sightings are brief, before a surprised animal takes off for the safety of the woods.

Not "our" coyote! He walked towards us several yards, then stopped again and stared at us. He seemed as curous about us as we were about him. Perhaps we were his wildlife viewing for the day. We waited and he repeated the pattern - walking towards us a short distance and stopping. He came to six or seven feet of the car. Then made his decision to head into the trees. We let out a collective breath of awe.

Perhaps he was a young coyote, curious about the world around him, even though he was full size. No question, he was a beautiful animal and in no hurry. His alert ears pointed upward as if to hear who or what this strange apparition in his refuge might be. His healthy coat was a blend of rust and greys.

Not the first time we have seen coyotes, but never with such an opportunity in which time stood still. Usually they streak across the land, wary of the potential danger humans represent. Or we see them hanging on fence posts in the west, desiccated in the hot sun, the life drained from them. And we have precious memories of hidden coyotes singing to each other in the dusk. But never this creature staring at us as if he had all the time in the world.

A good reminder slow down enough to be curious and attentive. You never know what you might see.