Sketching a Twisty Path on the Globe

A couple weekends ago I went home.  My sister had been housing a stack of my boxes in her basement for years but now had hopes of replacing them with a basketball hoop and air hockey for the boys.  I needed to sort and hopefully condense in hopes of fitting a new crowd into my already-full storage unit.  In the end I decided that incinerating Barbis and fortune-tellers after this long would be a crime against childhood and kept it all.  In going through boxes though I found a surprising, yet completely clear message:

DON’T EVER MAKE ANOTHER NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION. 

Seriously, it is now evident to me that essentially I have never really changed that much.  I found report cards from the 2^nd grade on hinting that “listening and following directions,” and “making good use of my time,” were things that I didn’t exactly excel at.  And I think I’m going to change that now?!?  I also found this letter, a rough draft for the one sent to my upcoming English teacher.  In it I discovered that I am much more like I was at 16 than I would ever have admitted before (hopefully at least with a little more common sense and a lot less hairspray).

August 20, 1990

Dear Mrs. Rodgers,

Hello from yet another student who in just a couple weeks will be sitting in, learning from, and possibly struggling through your AP English class.  You will probably be one of the few teachers to correctly pronounce my last name from the start as you have already taught my brother and sister.  Both also informed me that, although scarcely their easiest, your class prepared them for college more than any other.  And, being the Senior that I finally am, college is something that I’m trying to think about, although which college and what major are far from decided.

            You asked that we describe our interests and hobbies, and I had to think about this.  If interests are how you spend most of your time, between working at Shoney’s and babysitting, that would mean that counting back change and changing diapers are things that appeal to me.  So I reconsidered.  Instead I decided that playing tennis, taking trips, and trying new things are what I actually enjoy.  I hope to someday visit everywhere and try everything at least once.  A bit unrealistic and a little ridiculous, trips to Australia, Alaska, and China along with attempts at skiing, sky-diving, and hang-gliding are all things I want to do.  College, family, job—I’m clueless to these, but at least I have my future recreation planned!

            When it comes to school, my interests are a bit different.  Some of my favorite classes have been typing, art, and the Special Education class in which I was an assistant and will be again this year.  I am a basically good student although by habit I don’t study enough and procrastinate everything.  English has usually been one of my better classes although I consistently frustrate myself by putting off writing assignments until the latest possible time—a habit probably apparent by the borderline arrival of this letter.  I don’t really have any specific likes or dislikes about teaching practices except that an open-minded teacher rather than one moved by rules usually keeps my attention and motivation much longer.

Now that you know some about me, I am looking forward to meeting you….

Well, luckily I didn’t discard those things I thought of as “unrealistic” and “ridiculous,” although I’ve definitely procrastinated hang-gliding too long.  And truthfully, many would argue that I still am doing a better job planning my recreation than “job and family.”  : )  It also makes it interesting when I look at some of my 90+ year old patients and realize that they are just wrinkled versions of  a clumsy kid at 8, a good speller at 10, an insecure or beauty-buffed 12 year old, or a teen who loves to tell raunchy jokes….      

A few weeks ago my youngest nephew spontaneously started making a list:  “The little joys of life” including such unarguable things as “petting a friendly dog.”  Soon after I left for what I considered to be a “non-adventure”—3 months in Joplin Missouri to feed my piggy bank’s growling belly.  As I got closer, I saw a bulletin board with a giant rodent of some kind (chipmunk?  beaver?) arms thrown wide, proclaiming:  “Fun is just one hour away in Joplin, Missouri!!”  I laughed and thought maybe I’d been looking at this traveling assignment the wrong way.  Maybe it WOULD be fun!  The chipmunk promises! 

Hah.  First week I could have shot that chipmunk.  Maybe he or his rodent buddies were the ones that left sprinklings of poop all over the kitchen counter of the house where I was renting a room.  Maybe HIS idea of fun is plunking coins in a casino, cruising the tattoo parlors on Main Street, or loading up the cart with potato chip specials at the Walmart Supercenter.   

Well, another week past, a beautiful new apartment with WHITE tub walls and WHITE refrigerator and I began to see everything else as a little less moldy too.  So, I’ve brushed off my attitude and decided to make my own little list of joys.  This one:  The Joys of Joplin, or The Things that Will Keep Me Sane Here.

1.      Trips to St. Louis.  I have actually never lived this close to home.  Now I get to experience what it WOULD have been like to be a college student in Missouri—dirty laundry in, frozen goods and fresh-baked cookies coming out.  Time to just “hang out” rather than dash to storage and pack and unpack for a trip.

2.      A library card.  I haven’t had one for 17 years and am rediscovering the magic of dusty books, old movies, and obscure CD’s.

3.      Zumba.  I am aware what it says when your exercise class is your social highlight of the week, but it is.  Somehow, on that basketball court with Latin dance music booming I can feel like I’m shaking my tail somewhere else far away.  Columbia maybe.  Until I notice that all the women next to me are pale and wearing 7 layers of make-up to their workout. 

4.      Dollar stores.  NOT $1.99 stores, not even $1.79 stores, but the true classics—everything for a buck.  In fact, they even have a pre-recorded message cycling overhead to remind you that, indeed, “everything IS a dollar.”   For $1 you can buy everything from undies to a Malawa guidebook.  It’s not Sitka’s “White E,” but it certainly has a charm of its own.  And now I have a bath pillow for my new white tub.   

5.      A caseload full of Bettys, Butch’s, Buddy’s, and Goldie’s.  These are some of the toughest old folks I’ve ever met.  They cuss and spit and have photos of their bulls up in their room.  Not only that, but I’ve discovered that a week in a hospital bed can’t deflate a beehive hairdo.  I do love these people.

6.      Time, time and more time to do each and every one of those “creative” projects that never before made the freetime cut.  Now I can spend 3 months writing, drawing, painting, strumming, and stringing.  They may even have me crocheting doilies by the end of it. 

7.      Skype.  My “fully furnished executive suite” has two large-screen televisions…but no phone.  “Because ever’body has a cell phone!” the landlord exclaimed and I couldn’t argue with him.  Everyone but me.  So I’ve discovered the joys (and warbly, word-cutting frustrations) of talking for free on the computer. 

….and I’m sure that with a few more weeks I can progress my list to 10.  It’s good to keep up the suspense for excitement to come. That muddy creek in Joplin’s “scenic” Conservation Center was also a good reminder that although I may feel  like I’m moving through time like that catatonic turtle, I’ll eventually be carried away to a greener bank.   ; )