Philosophy

Today I was drying my hair before going to lunch with the girls and another congregational friend and I was looking at the YPA book, the new one, still on my night stand unread, and I felt bad about Estonia too, but really, I got the Awake! on music read and with all the grading and other things going on, I was happy I didn't jump off a cliff this week.  Anyhow, I was looking at the title and remembering that when I was a girl, Dear Abby had a book with a title about What Every Teenager Should Know.  Now, Jeanne Ann Phillips does the column and she is still distributing the books.  They are $6.00 post paid. 

I haven't ever read it, but from the advertising copy, it sounds like pretty good advice.  That's the thing about the world.  There is some self-help and some philosophy that does work.  But all the good stuff sounds like it plagiarized the Bible.  All the bad stuff sounds like a man thought it up.

I taught world lit I in Arkansas.  That means I covered literature from the beginning of written history (Egyptian poetry circa 4600 BC) through the 1600's.  The first time my boss asked me to teach it, he was short handed.  I said I am not qualified to teach that, have not read enough.  He knew me quite well by then, and he even attended a wedding for a brother at our hall who was a carpenter and worked on his house. 

So my boss says, "Well you've read the Bible, and that's a big part of it."

I cannot begin to describe the beauty of teaching the Bible to 25 students, even though it was the King James.  I decided Russell could do it, and so could I.  I always assigned Job, and I gave a reading quiz question that went:  "Who was testing Job?"

And a lot of the little boogers would say God.  And I would say no, you didn't read it.  Some of them would argue and say uh huh, and I would say not very closely.  So we would go over that part again, and they would be astonished. 

But, what I was thinking about this morning was how every religion has some version of the golden rule.  Philosophers phrase this concept as the "ethic of reciprocity" and basically it means that we treat other people the way we would like to be treated.  Even in movies, Bill and Ted who founded a society based on their music say:  "Be excellent to each other."  (Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure).

My mind cross referenced that idea with my little rant about my ex yesterday.  If I had a kidney stone, I doubt I'd appreciate someone calling it piddling on their blog, even if I didn't know about it. 

But "Helga" hurt.  He was always saying something about my being a housewife.  Even when I became a doctor. 

A friend in Arkansas told me that out in a large group to observe another couple's anniversary, the brother told his wife after that many years he ought to be entitled to trade her in on a newer model.  My friend told him mildly that probably no one else would put up with him.  Hooray for her!  But I am constantly amazed at the way husbands and wives will treat each other.  Another couple back in Arkansas just broke up, the husband (an elder!) disfellowshipped.  Yes, he did her wrong, but I remembered all the times the sister would dress him down publicly (I would cringe in his behalf over how she spoke to him) and I wondered if she didn't share a little blame for the situation?  Did she kind of nudge him that direction?  Everybody has needs, and they have to get some of them filled.  Which is pretty much what I was talking about yesterday.  I needed groceries carried in more than I needed to be spoken to sweetly. 

Tonight I told one of my daughters she had some daddy DNA.  When she is going to cook tomorrow, tonight she has to arrange the ingredients on the bar.  Can't they wait in the pantry?  Her father would lay out his work clothes the same way.  I'm OCD for things being where they belong, put away, not laid out everywhere.  This annoys me.  So when I mentioned that she did not get this habit from me, she got mad.  She turned over my big bamboo bowl on the bar filled with produce.  I didn't say anything or lose my cool.

She went upstairs, and I picked the onions and cucumbers up where they scattered, the apples rolled under the table.  I stayed downstairs and watched an entire episode of "Storage Wars."  I love that show.  I love seeing what people have in those units, what it's worth.  I didn't have time to watch it tonight, but my heart was pounding so hard I got scared.  I was so upset and I wanted to bawl that she would dump that out and say what she said.  When I said what is that for, she said it's either that or your head. 

No, I didn't laugh at her and say well there is some more daddy DNA for you darling child.  I thought it was a good idea to stay downstairs while she was upstairs.

So I am about to turn in.  The last comforter (the other daughter's) is down to the cool down cycle, and I'm a little more cooled down, and I'm going to bed.  Even though she went downstairs after I came upstairs and made herself some eggs and didn't offer to make me any, which she always does.  Tomorrow is another day, Scarlett. 

I was thinking about the time with Abel in Main Moon for dinner after the meeting one Sunday, how when the waitress was so busy and kept not bringing my diet coke, he finally got her attention and ordered it for me.  And that made me so happy, as pitiful as that sounds.  What kind of woman thinks she is in love upon hearing such a small remark?

Maybe one called Helga for years and years. 

I'm going to kiss my girl goodnight and let it pass.  I have lost my temper and felt stupid about it later, and I would wish for someone to kiss me goodnight when that happens.  I am going to do the same for her.  I want to jerk a knot in her chain, to use a southern expression, but I have thought of David this week, losing Absalom and how much that hurt.  I do not want more hurt between us.

And I do not want her to go without tenderness for so long that an offhand small remark will be so sweet as to be nectar to her hungry heart someday.