You are currently browsing the archives for July, 2009.
I’ve determined that flying insects follow game trails. I rely on two key bits of evidence:
- Spiders clearly target paths when weaving their webs. If there is no difference in one tree or the next, then why are so many spider webs blocking the trail? I counted one web every 10 yards for about an hour as I trotted around the lake at I. C. King Park. By my unscientific calculation, that adds up to about a million spider webs an hour, which has got to be greater than the density off the beaten path.
- Gnats, no-see-ums, and mosquitoes were rampant for the entire journey. Surely, they could not be in equal numbers throughout the entire world. No, I think it is pretty obvious they hang out on trails or at the very least they use trails for navigating to and from their bug homes.
I noticed something else about bugs today. They have no circadian rhythm. It is well known and accepted that bugs do their work from evening to morning. Dawn and dusk are notoriously the worst times for people who are sensitive to mosquitoes. From this, we can conclude that bugs work nights and sleep days. Today, however, I was out jogging at exactly high noon. I have survived to report back to you on the state of bugs at lunch time. They are everywhere on rainy, overcast, cool days—despite the time of day. Since these bugs do not clock out and go to sleep on any sort of predictable schedule, I determined they must have nothing like a human’s circadian rhythm. They work both day and night.
Moving from bugs to other aspects of today’s run, I want to share a somewhat positive development. As some of you may know, my right foot has been known to go soundly to sleep while running. It has happened for years, and no, it is not related to my foot gloves. It happens in any shoe. The more fit I am, the longer it takes for it to happen, but it always happens if I run far enough. So today, I was running along with one dead foot toward the end of my run when I stepped on a chunk of something that was sticking straight out of the ground.
In a millisecond or so, pain shot through my foot glove and connected with my numb foot bone. That, in turn, connected to my ankle bone, then my knee bone, and on and on until the pain connected with my brain bone. I stopped to sing about Ezekiel in the Valley of Dem Dry Bones and look for what must definitely be a huge hole in the bottom of my foot. Shockingly, there was no evidence of trauma. My foot gloves were strong enough to save me from impalement! But this is not going to turn into another foot glove testimonial. Instead, this is about my discovery.
In just a few seconds, as the pain began to subside in my foot, a funny thing happened. The numbness in my foot began to dissipate, as well. Isn’t that amazing?! I’ve read a ton of reports on the internet from people with similar numb foot issues, and there is never an answer. Although it is probably not something most people would want to try, here is what worked for me: Find a stob sticking out of the ground that is just exactly tall enough to cause excruciating pain, but not sharp or tall enough to actually poke through your foot. This is a delicate issue because too tall a stob will cause damage and too short a stob may not solve the foot numbness problem. (Of course, if it doesn’t work and your foot is really numb, it probably would not be as bad as if your foot wasn’t numb to start with. So foot numbness could be a blessing in a case like that.)
In closing, let me quickly recount a few of the cool things I experienced. I ran through ankle deep mud, numerous times. I left Sasquatch-looking prints, which should be pretty cool when the ground dries out. There was a stick in the lake with bubbles around it, and that may have been evidence of a mud turtle. I saw a giant lake bird taking off over the water. I saw him again, later, fishing from the docks. He was very patient. There was a perfectly symmetrical white mushroom and another that was completely thorny. Rainy days are great for mushroom spotters, by the way. I saw a crazy looking bird that may have been another fisher of some sort. I’m sure it is rare around here, but I couldn’t get a good look through the trees. There was at least one giant spider and a million webs. There were little puddles and rivulets of water everywhere. The water was cool on my feet. A squirrel scampered down the path ahead of me past mossy green trees and rocks. It was a beautiful day.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
Zombies are a favorite topic. Soulless bodies devoid of free will are so outlandish you just have to stop and consider them. Could such a thing really happen? Could our souls leave our bodies to fend for themselves? And would we really be happier if we could shut off all sensation? It seems as though a lot of us are trying to find out. But it doesn’t have to be that way. With a little effort, we can crank up our sensory input and avoid a zombie life.
I went jogging yesterday at the track in my foot gloves. I love these things for a variety of reasons, but a big one is the amount of feeling I have in them. They do not insulate my feet like other shoes, so I am keenly aware of the surface of the earth. Although I run in a lurching fashion, the sensation is rather un-zombie like. I am in tune. I sense. I feel. It is a sensory joy to feel ripples and ridges beneath my feet as I run.
In my former heavily-shod zombie-jogger life, I could not distinguish pavement from trail through the souls of my shoes. In foot gloves, the track feels dramatically unforgiving while the grass seems nothing other than a gift from God. I love the grass. I thank God for the grass. I thank God for the joy I get from running through a field on a humid afternoon.
It has rained a lot here this year, and sometimes I ride my motorcycle in the rain. Riding in a rain suit on a motorcycle feels exactly like riding in the rain without a rain suit. You don’t really get soaked, but it feels like it. It is misery and ecstasy at the same time. You know you’re alive when you’re riding through a downpour. If you let it, your mood can soar at a time like that, and I’ve learned to embrace the sensation.
Sometimes I ride in the cool evenings. I get chilled if I’m not dressed right, but I always enjoy the changes in temperature anyway. Riding through low areas is amazing because the temperature can drop by as much as 10 degrees in an instant. When you feel that change, you can’t help but marvel at the diversity of the world. And that sensation is intense!
How many popular drugs are really just a grab for zombie status? Prozac, Ridlin, marijuana, Paxil….How many conveniences are merely a way to avoid the sensations of being alive? Drugs, couches, cars, and shoes all dull the feedback the world offers up. Of course, these things all have their purpose. When necessary, they can be treasures to enhance our lives. But when overused or abused, they can replace our lives with something else, and that something is never as good as the original life we had.
God sends the rain. God makes the grass grow. God gives us so many gifts! How wonderful it is to be in full command of our senses! How wonderful to be alive! When you think of it, the alternative is not so appealing after all. People in movies never want to be a zombie, but people in the audience are often drawn to the zombies. Perhaps that is because in real life, the zombie attraction does not come from a bite on the neck or a goring. More often, it is an insidious slide into numbness.
How many of us have bellied up to the zombie bar for a quick beverage only to look up and find that too much time has passed. Well, tell them to put it on your tab and step away. Today, is a day to get in touch with your sensory side. Today is a day reserved for sensation seekers. No zombies allowed.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
Yield is a word that gets overlooked all too often, so let’s rectify that problem right now. We need a crop of yield. Our yield crop must yield bushels and bushels of yield. We must not yield until we have all the yield we need. And let’s be clear about one thing: we need a lot of yield.
An opossum resided in my neighborhood as recently as yesterday. He failed to yield the right of way last night, and I noted his carcass in the lane this morning on my commute. This afternoon, torrential rains failed to wash him to the curb; for now, he remains an adornment on the road. He’s been there all day. I’m pretty sure he is not playing ‘possum. I think it may be against the law to shovel road kill to the side of the road, which is not an issue, since dead ‘possums around here are routinely left to disintegrate under the wheels of passersby. Perhaps it is good to make an example of them. Failure to yield is a serious offense.
There was some yielding on the highway, today, and that is a good development, but we’ve still got a ways to go. For some reason here in NASCAR country, drivers do not want to allow merging. If “rubbin’ is racin’”, we’ve got a lot of racin’ goin’ on ‘round here. I’d say drivers here refuse to allow merging, but that is often not really true. They don’t have a choice. Drivers are governed by several unwritten—but widely accepted—rules of Yield. For posterity and those who are not able to easily identify the rules on their own, I shall detail them here:
- An aggressive jalopy driver shall assume the right of way in all encounters with nicer cars. This is pretty obvious. If you’re in the lesser car, you just pull on over. Take the lane! The guy in the nicer car realizes you don’t care about your car as much as he cares about his. He probably waxed his last weekend. He almost certainly suspects you’re driving illegally without insurance. He is pretty sure you’re a meth addict. Basically, if your car is junky enough, the road is yours.
- When both cars are of approximately equal value, the driver of the larger vehicle shall assume the right of way. For style points, you may be tempted to look right at the driver of the smaller car. This is a nice touch, but most times, feigning the inability to see around your gargantuan car is the best way to go. If the eco-driver next to you fails to yield, it will be helpful later if you can fob off the accident as, well, an accident. Believe me, you don’t want to go to an American courtroom as the tree killing oaf who just killed a tree hugger on our local roads.
- All other matters being equal, the most heavily modified car, shall take the road. Spinner wheels, add-on spoilers, those horrible exhaust tips, Earl Scheib’s famous $99 paint job, and even excessive stickers on the car may be enough to sway the balance of yield in your favor. Basically, you’re aiming for a counter-culture look, which may be interpreted as ‘nothing much to lose’ by your more conservative road mates. Excessive facial piercings and beards; neck, face or hand tattoos; and even horribly gapped up hair styles may all help in this regard, as well.
If your car is nice, you should yield. If your car is on the smallish side, you should yield. If your car is not totally janked up with accoutrements, you should yield. If you paid more than a dollar for your last haircut, you should yield. If you can take out all your facial jewelry, blow your nose, and not spray snot all over the room, you should yield. There is no way, you’re going to win every face off, and time is short. Wouldn’t you rather just yield, and save your brain for other important considerations like what to have for lunch or where to stop for gas? Wouldn’t you like to make someone’s day?
Now that I think about it, you should just yield every chance you get. Unless you’re ahead of me and we’re approaching a light. Then, don’t let that guy in. He’ll mess up everything.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
Before I get started, let me first apologize for selecting a Chinese word. I know it is a bit of a cheat, but you really should thank me for skipping over such wonderful Scrabble alternatives as xebecs, xenias, and xiphoid. Xian Dai Hua is a relative gem compared to the competition. If you’ll just hold your appreciative remarks until the end of the post, that would be great. After a full savory read through of the entire article, you may ooze praise and gratitude to your heart’s content in the comments section at the bottom.
Okay, so Xian Dai Hua it is, and Xian Dai Hua is modernization. I know it seems like three words, but trust me on this: Xian Dai Hua is the type of compound word you come up with when you’re dealing with a mono-syllabic language and you happen to live in China.
China is as focused on modernizing as anywhere else, so it’s no wonder they are so fond of this special X-word. The middle kingdom and the rest of the world seem equally fixated on the idea that progress is good and old ways are bad. In some cases, that is appropriate, I suppose. There are many historic decisions which would be best pushed aside. But I want to suggest a different view.
In many cases, modernization has not been for the best. My laptop is plugged into a wall outlet, draining electricity from a power grid located somewhere nearby. Think of the sacrifices we’ve made in the name of convenient power: We’ve leveled mountains while mining coal to burn for it. We’ve flooded river valleys for water to turn turbines for it. We’ve sacrificed air quality for it. We’ve scarred landscapes with wires and towers to deliver it. Does the value still seem worth the price?
What about the internal combustion engine? It churns out toxic fumes and noise while taking us places we have little need to go. How many hours and days have I spent behind the wheel of one car or another? I have driven tractors and bulldozers. I have driven airplanes and boats and Bobcats. I drive a truck all the time, and I spent a full day just last week, driving a motorcycle around for no reason at all.
Speaking of modes of transportation, consider the modernizing influence of ships and airplanes. How small the world has become as a result of these! Such promising inventions, yet their main contribution to the world has been to make it entirely possible for all of us to spend hours and hours en route to places that are not so different than those we just left. I’ve personally spent years of my life in foreign lands—largely because airplanes and ships have rendered inconsequential the distance between potential adversaries.
What was life like before modernization? Two hundred years ago, children did not ride in the back seats of cars listening to one-sided cell phone conversations. They did not argue with parents over which radio station might most satisfyingly and loudly prohibit personal conversations in those same cars. When they were home, people did not disengage their families in favor of television sets. When they were about town, there was no need to stop in all manner of electronic boutiques, debating movie formats, screen resolutions, or speaker ohm requirements.
Friends did not converse via computers. They met with one another after work or church or on their days off from their jobs. Families and friends lived full lives together. Only in the rarest and most unusual of conditions did employment situations ever separate loved ones. Fellowship was valued in those days in a way that seems quaint to us now. How many of us are content in our modern physical isolation? How many of us recognize the losses we’ve incurred at the hands of Xian Dai Hua?
I am as much a hippo of the modern era as much as anyone, but I sometimes wish for a simpler time. I wish for a time when relationships regain top billing. Let’s keep all the good modern improvements, but let’s strive to keep it in perspective, too.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
One of the homeless ministries here in Knoxville, Tennessee, was inspired by a simple gesture: the offering of water to a thirsty homeless person. That simple act illuminated the need for hydration among the homeless. A local Brownie troop stepped up to meet that need, and while those Brownies have since outgrown their Brownie years, the mission they helped to found lives on.
The Water Angel Ministry now provides a steady stream of practical assistance to the area homeless community. From food and clothing to documentation assistance, from spiritual guidance to prayer support, from back to school supplies to bible study, the Water Angels provide for a wide range of needs, which are not effectively met by any other ministry or agency.
It is no surprise that recipients of all this compassion came up with the name “water angel” and it is also no surprise the name stuck. What angel would not be willing to help where help is so desperately needed, and what helper is not perceived an angel to those she serves?
Most of us have the capacity to help the angels. We can donate our time and money. We can even help by just paying attention to the social needs of our less fortunate neighbors, and just for the record, that doesn’t cost a penny. There are abundant opportunities all the time. If you’ve got time and no money, the water angels can use your help. If you’ve got money, but no time, there is a way for you to help, too. If you’ve got both time and money, you’re like my friend Mike, and you can immerse yourself in helping if you want. I hope you will.
Mike is currently involved in three key areas. He is:
- Soliciting sponsors & participants for a late September golf tournament which will pay for school supplies, birth certificates, state IDs, job materials, and maybe even a little fun for the kids.
- Collecting school supply and backpack donations.
- Organizing people to provide food and church services (including music) on various Sundays throughout the year.
Would you like to help Mike and the rest of the Water Angels? Here is how:
If you’ve got hundreds of dollars to spend you could do something at the Golf Tournament. There are hole and contest sponsorships available or you may even want to golf, which is great if you like to chase a ball around a field.
If “hundreds of bucks” are too rich for your budget, fear not! You could help out for much less. New backpacks, wide ruled notebook paper, rulers, #2 pencils, Crayola crayons, Elmer’s glue, Fiskar scissors, and glue sticks are all needed for the back-to-school backpack project.
How about a completely cost-free investment of your time and energy? If you live in Knoxville, I’ll be more than happy to ask Mike to sign you up for something that suits your talents. If you live somewhere else, I’ll bet we could find a similar ministry in your area. If not, maybe you could start one!
If you’d like to help in any way, here is a number to call for more information: (865)524-5194.
If you would rather just mail a check–for any amount–here is a mailing address:
Water Angel Ministry
PO BOX 22153
Knoxville, TN 37933
Or if you want to browse a website, here is a URL: www.thewaterangels.com.
W is for Water Angels because sometimes the angels can use a little help. I hope you’ll consider helping out a local angel today.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
Victories are in the air. Pollen particles and dust are also in the air, but our topic of the day involves victories, so try to focus on those instead. Forget I mentioned the rest of that stuff. From computers to shoe styles to bicycle rides, life has recently been a series of one victory after another at El Casa de Hippo. Lingering aggravations and irritations have all but disappeared under a soothing salve of enthusiastic endeavors. Life is good!
Despite a few remaining challenges, I like the new web page. There are areas where I hope to improve the look and feel, but for now, I’m pretty pleased. I like the minimalist look, and the new server traffic reports are great. You may be interested to know, we had 12 unique visitors to the site over the first 24-hour period. That’s not a baker’s dozen and certainly not a dirty dozen, but I’m pretty happy with an old fashioned dozen of any sort. For day 1, that suits me just fine.
Having 128 members on Mister Hippo’s Notes Page is still fun and I’d love to see that number grow, but 12 actual readers in a single day says a whole lot more to me. When I woke up this morning, I checked to see if I had any comments. I didn’t. In the days prior to Simplyhippo.com, I would have been left to wonder if anyone had actually visited or not. Now, I know. People visited. They just didn’t have anything to say.
This reporting information makes me very happy. I did have one comment pending approval, by the way, so now there is a comment on ”T for Transitions.” That is exciting. The process works!
Another victory involves Google. While browsing the site statistics, I noticed that several web bots had visited my page. Since I submitted the URL to Google a few days ago, I was hopeful that this meant I’d now be listed on Google. I jumped to a new tab and Googled myself up, and guess what: We’re listed!
In related news, I figured out how to link to a post from Mister Hippo and have the hyperlink actually work. I don’t know what I was doing wrong before because it is super easy. Anyway, this should make it more convenient for those FOMHIPs who are averse to change—and uninterested in RSS feeds—to continue to check for updates on the Mister Hippo’s Notes Page. Thanks to the fact that hyperlinks do work in posts on that page, simplyhippo.com is now just a click away.
In an entirely unrelated area, things are also going well. I appear to be experiencing a small victory over sore feet. I’ve been reading Born to Run, which is a story about the evils of running shoes. The premise is that our feet get weak and lazy because the shoes do all the work. I’ve had a lot of trouble with my feet, and these problems have generally come upon me after running in expensive shoes. The author cites studies where the cheaper the shoe, the less likely a runner is to suffer injury while running in it.
So I’ve been running in my Vibram Five Fingers foot gloves, which are really just a thin bit of rubber on the bottom of a sock of sorts. No orthotics or fancy gels, these things just keep the rocks from poking through your skin. I also have a pair of Nike Free shoes, which are not as minimalist as the five fingers, but they are pretty close.
Anyway, after a week or so on this approach, running short distances in the Vibrams and walking around in the Frees as often as possible, I’m starting to feel like I may be onto something. My feet are beginning to feel like they did when I was a much younger hippo, running track in really thin shoes. I’ve got afew small blisters and tender spots from the experiment, but overall my feet feel stronger and healthier. This could be a victory over the sore feet, which I was beginning to accept as a cross I would just have to bear.
And one final victory involves Mrs. Hippo. She and I shared a victory over the I.C. King park and bike trails. We rode our bikes around the lake loop and triumphed over rocks and trees and mud bogs. Along the path, we pretended to be Tour de France riders. I was Lance, and Mrs. Hippo was Alberto Contador. I was tempted to make up the time deficits from the real race in France, but since we are on the same team (as are Lance and Alberto) we did not allow any time gaps. At one point, Mrs. Hippo pretended to be Bradley Wiggins while I drafted behind her up a steep hill. I think she wanted to be Lance, but it was my imagination, so I was victorious on that score. It was a great day for a bike ride.
What all these victories have in common is a bit of effort and interest. By taking a more active approach, doing a little research, and trying a few changes on for size, I’ve found solutions to several aggravations that have plagued me in recent days, months, and years. What victories have you enjoyed in your life, recently? What victories could you have if you were to buckle down and wrestle a nagging problem or two? V is for victory, and victory is for everyone.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
I’ve had the same haircut for nearly 5 decades. It is an orthodox style. I shave my face on most days because that’s what is expected. I don’t have any tattoos or piercings because the “me” that people expect to encounter would never get a tat or tolerate any body jewelry. It is funny the constraints we live with because that is what is expected. We consistently act in a way that others expect, and we seldom entertain thoughts of behaving in any way that would shatter those perceptions.
But what if we were to break out of our assigned mold? Our friends and family would be quick to call us on any changes. I’ve experienced it many times. Mister Hippo, why don’t you shave? Your beard looks nasty! Mister Hippo, what’s up with the loud shirt? It is hurting my eyes! Mister Hippo, are you having a mid-life crisis?! I’ve been asked that last question dozens of times, and I think it is fairly clear that I’ve been demonstrating odd behaviors since my early 20s. Things haven’t changed much in all those years.
My new Vibram Five Fingers foot glove things are pretty unorthodox. I like them, but I get some second looks, so I’m a bit self-conscious about them. I don’t know why I care. Mostly, people don’t pay much attention to me at all, so why should I care if they look at my feet? But for some reason I do seem to care what others think, and those concerns constrain me in ways I feel they should not.
From now on, I am going to strive to be unorthodox about things that don’t really matter. If I’m happy with a shaggy haircut, does that make me a bad person? Or what if I were to skewer a ring through my snout? Would you stop reading my notes over the decision?
Adornments like nose rings or tattoos are not inherently bad, in my opinion, although I have good friends who would argue the point based on Old Testament rules. Rather than try to interpret the application of Leviticus on our lives today, I think we would do better to simply strive to avoid self absorption. That seems a much more worthy goal.
Any look-at-me motivation is dangerous. It suggests we’re the best choice for center-of-attention honors, and that is usually an unhealthy attitude. If I wear my Vibram five fingers to get attention, I run the risk of focusing too much on myself. But if I wear them for my own reasons (tougher, healthier feet) and happen to get attention, there is really nothing wrong with that.
In general, I think it is okay to be unorthodox when it doesn’t matter. Focusing on something bigger than ourselves is always a good idea. That may mean that we restrict ourselves in certain ways and it may mean we are blissfully ignorant of others’ expectations in some areas. For me, that means I probably won’t get a nose ring or a tattoo, but I may let my hair grow out or grow a beard. I’m trying not to think too much about it, but unorthodoxy in that area could be a nice change of pace.
I’m pretty sure that thinking less about my appearance is a good idea. Maybe that is just what I should do to get right with God. Maybe God would rather I be unorthodox than self-centered.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
Change is inevitable. The world doesn’t stand still, and if we’re going to keep up, we can’t stand still, either. Before Mister Hippo Notes Page, we had our notes on a personal Face Book page. We outgrew the facility of the personal notes feature, and now it is time to move on again for similar reasons. Face book is simply not the best vehicle for a web log. It is time for another transition.
I created simpyhippo.com in the hope of finding a permanent and more user-friendly home for my musings. This new approach will allow us to continue to enjoy the best of Mister Hippo’s Notes Page while adding a few benefits:
- Simplyhippo.com is a “real” web address. The long list of letters and numbers in a Face Book URL is cumbersome to share and difficult for new visitors to find. Simplyhippo.com is easier to communicate. Plus, Google will eventually find simplyhippo.com, which will never happen for the Face Book Hippo page. Mister Hippo’s Notes page does not qualify for a real name because of Face Book rules.
- Simplyhippo.com generates unique links for unique posts; Face book allows links to a page, but not a specific post. Users have to click the Face Book link and then navigate to the post. This will no longer be necessary.
- Simplyhippo.com enables you to receive updates via (RSS) Really Simple Syndication, which may be turned on or off at your preference. This is a nice feature. Face book notes pages do not allow this user-level control. Instead, I can send bulletins to the entire group, but daily mass messaging can become tiresome for many users, so I have been hesitant to use the feature for each new post.
- I am in control of Simplyhippo.com. I can change the look and feel, I can tell if anyone visits the site, and I can feel confident that I’m doing things my way—even if my way isn’t always the best.
So, I hope you can see that this transition is worthwhile. You will be able to click to the new site from Face Book, so I hope you’ll adapt and not find these changes to cumbersome. You are important to me. I write these blog entries because they bubble out, but also because I want you to read them. Writing without readers is much less fulfilling, as you might imagine. Here are a few details you may find helpful:
- I’ll continue to post entries on Face Book to alert you to new posts on simplyhippo.com.
- At the top of Mister Hippo’s Notes Page is a link to the new site. Click it and you’re on your way.
- I encourage you to comment on blog entries on the new site, but it is a little different. At the bottom right of each post, there is a link that identifies the number of comments. It may say “no comments” or it may give a count of the comments (like “2 comments”). Click that link, and you’ll be asked for your name, e-mail address, and website, along with your comments. You don’t need a website, so feel free to skip that if you like. To control random internet spammers, the first time you post a comment, it will be held for moderation, but subsequent posts will be published immediately.
Thank you for being a FOMHIP. I hope you’ll FOMHIP your way over to simplyhippo.com from time to time.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
T is for TCN
For those of you that don’t know, TCN stands for Third Country National. It’s also a fancy term for indentured servant. Typically, TCNs are from third world countries and are usually brought in to perform menial tasks that are beneath the host country inhabitants to perform. Usually, these are in the form of building something or digging some hole or the ever popular leaky sewage truck detail (LSTD). I’m sure LSTD is the most favored of duties amongst the TCN crowd because it allows them the chance to spew their frustrations all over the local roadways and the cars that follow too close. To illustrate this point, I’m currently afraid to touch the outer portion of my car for fear of contracting hepatitis.
Now, if you’re wondering how you might discern a TCN from any other person you shouldn’t. It is easy. All TCNs are required to wear what we lovingly refer to as the “TCN One Piece.” It is rather close to prison garb, but in the hue of blue. Since everything here is so brown, blue provides the perfect contrast to keep them from escaping. Correct sizing seems to be a bit of an issue though; the TCN One Piece comes only in two sizes, small and small. Whether six feet or five or four and a half, a TCN will cram himself into the same blue jumpsuit that will define his role in society for the days and months to come.
Now, for any rational person to put up with this amount of degradation they better be getting a pretty penny. Most TCNs make about 5 dollars a day and get one day off a month. They live in large rooms with a bunch of their best TCN buddies and share blankets and beds with each other. Eventually they’ll have saved enough money to make their way back to Sri Lanka or the Philippines (the two most popular TCN points or origin and return) and share their new fortunes with their loved ones.
Every now and then, you’ll run into some TCNs on a personal basis. When you arrive to Qatar, you have to process at the Medical Review Commission to evaluate if you have Jake Leg or TB of some sort. Since everyone has to do this, it’s an excellent opportunity to see TCNs in action. At the Clinic there are two sides: a TCN side and the side for everyone else. This is great for the TCNs since they can stick together and share stories like the one about the man that pushed them in the face for having all the correct paperwork in the improper order. They might also have stories about the compassionate phlebotomist with a needle the size of a BIC pen or the friendly X-Ray Technician who forcibly removes their shirts for them.
TCNs love some shade. They’re pretty good about inventing shade as well. With just a few barrels and some old metal pieces you can have a pretty nice little shaded area. I’ll tell my favorite shade story. I was driving to work the other day around 11 AM. About that time of day it’s getting pretty close to what I call “getting a little warm out” or 130 degrees F. There was an accident at the next roundabout, so traffic had effectively stopped. While I was sitting there I noticed to my right there was a group of TCNs huddled together in the shade of a road sign. It was a pretty big road sign that had made a shade square about 10 ft by 10 ft. Being all good friends, of course, they managed to cram about 12 guys in the shade. Now, as the minutes went by, the sun rose higher in the sky and the shade square became a little more rectangular. Eventually, it came to a point that some of the TCNs’ feet were hanging out of the shade. When this happened they all got up and reshuffled, so the guys on the interior of the shade went to warm their feet up while the guys with smoking shoes could cool theirs off a little. By this time I was getting a little chilly, but traffic started to clear and I drove off, turning the AC knob in my car down to two.
Forever Humbled,
Hippo Jr.
Serendipity is an odd concept. Not only do we often find things we aren’t looking for, but sometimes it feels as if we’re actually more likely to discover things when we aren’t looking for them.
Do you have any floaters in your eyes? I have a floater or two in my eyes. Sometimes I like to look for them, but I have to look away to see them. In fact, when looking for floaters, it is better to not really look at anything at all. That is why you see them when you stare into a blue sky, but finding a floater by looking away is not really serendipity. It is more of a trick, really. You can’t control serendipity.
I was thinking recently about the dinner rolls in China. There were two types when I was there, and from the outside, you couldn’t tell them apart. Of course, in typical Chinese fashion, they were all in the same basket. I would look for the rolls that did not have the purple paste inside, and I would always find the ones that did. That is not serendipity, because it was bad fortune—not good fortune.
I have a host of nearly serendipitous examples involving China.
One I noted just today. A friend took a Face Book quiz to determine her Chinese character. She was told her character should be “happy,” but they gave her the “prosperity” character instead. I think that is almost serendipitous because if you get prosperity, by accident, you’ll probably get happiness along with it. Although it is by no means a sure bet. You see, looking for happiness sometimes leads to prosperity, but looking for prosperity rarely leads to happiness.
Here is another China example: My dorm room was worse than the seediest motel in America. The toilet seat was loose when we arrived. A few days later, it was completely disconnected, leaving my roommate and I to precariously balance on it during use. By the end of the second week, the maid took it away completely, leaving us to scour our brains for the Chinese words necessary to report a missing toilet seat. The disappearance worked out for the best, however, because it proved a catalyst for change. The seat not only came back, but it was re-attached to the bowl. What good fortune! But maybe not serendipity…
Here is a good example. This one is the real deal. This is not just close. This is it.
When I started going to church again after a long break, I was looking for happiness, a purpose, something for me… You might say I was a consumer Christian. Initially, this appeared to be working, too. I felt good about going to church. I enjoyed the services, the fellowship, and the sense of happiness those things produced. Gradually, however, church began to demand some of my time. And I started to resist. I ended up on boards and councils. I ended up helping with this, that, and the other thing. My old sense of calm was sometimes replaced by a hectic pace and a harried outlook. How did this happen? How did I go from consumer to provider? Where was my initial happiness?
And then I began to find my gifts. I have found that using my spiritual gifts tends to lead to happiness. When I teach Sunday school, for example, it takes a bunch of my time, but afterwards, I always feel enriched by the process.
Jesus said, “let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). He didn’t say, and then you’ll feel good. He said God would be praised, which is why I personally invest the time and effort in church activities. But when I look to help others, to teach them, to enlighten them, I often do end up feeling better—even though I wasn’t trying for that result. And that, my friends, is the very definition of serendipity.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
