Entertainment Tonight

Elementary school was a fascinating experience. The world seeped into my life like water through a sponge. Unlike the analogy of a sponge, my eyes were never saturated, my ears could never hold enough. Sensory input, to a pre-teen, is as important as breathing. Nothing compares to music, dancing, sunlight - coloring, laughing, trembling in expectation like a puppy waiting to be petted.



Sometimes I look back at pictures from the '70's, faded a bit at the edges, grainy if not dull, the photos gush forth with emotion long capped in the well of the present. Looking at the photograph, I can make the movie projector of my mind spin a silent movie of that day, or what my mind has constructed of the day of the photograph. There is a picture of me standing in front of the house, new shoes, new clothes - it was my first day of fourth grade. The big yellow bus soon picked us up and transported all of us children two miles into the metroplis of Rake, Iowa. I would find out later that day, that we had the biggest class in upper elementary - 13 children. Of course, of those 13, roughly one quarter were Matthias children.



Fourth grade offers different opportunities for learning. We were beyond coloring for the most part; we had learned our multiplication tables and most of us had an extensive grasp of reading the English language. What we were exposed to, though, were educational movies. It was most exciting - this was pre-VCR era. Perhaps once a year my parents would take us to the theater to watch a movie, but at school the movie was brought to us. Mrs. Applehons would herd her 13 children, the 5 fifth grade children and 8 sixth grade children down the hallway to the tornado shelter (that was where we were shown movies - it was the darkest place in the school). Each child would plop their bodies into a desk as Mrs. Applehons threaded the reel through the projector. She must have had hours of training to do that complicated procedure. Then, there was a clicking noise as the 8mm film moved through the projector - a brief pause, the lights went out, the girls giggled, then the countdown of grey numbers - 3 - 2 - 1, we counted with them. Then a whole new world opened up. We were entertained by education.



That was a different world.



Now we are assaulted by movies, music, television, so many different i-things I can't keep up. Because of these new entertainments, new fandangled gadgets, certain consequences have popped out of nowhere.



1. Many people are deficient in communicating verbally. It is easier to e-mail than to call. Less messy when one can avoid emotional confrontations. I have seen youth, sitting in the same room, who text each other rather than speak face to face. A study was also done and it is said that 90% of youth today have difficulty looking adults in the eye. Perhaps this comes from constant communication with gadgets instead of people.



2. Instead of gadgets freeing more time, they actually make us susceptible to lack of time. We are accessible night or day - cell phones are dog collars that allow us no freedom. E-mail demands constant attention; many people check their e-mail a dozen times per day.



3. We can ignore and shut out other people. I have noticed an abundance of people now wearing some kind of cell phone adjunct in one ear. People are turning in to cyborgs. This is my own opinion, but by wearing the ear piece, the person is communicating to those in close proximity, that the wearer can cut off communication at any time when the person's usefulness is up. I have difficulty speaking to adults when they wear the ear piece/cell phone adjunct.



4. We have so much noise we cannot possibly hear what God has for us. Elijah stood out on the mountain and God said that He would pass by. A great wind - a noisy wind pressed in closely to Elijah, but God did not speak in the wind. An ground shattering earthquake followed, but in that noise, God was not. A fire whipped across the mountain like runaway locomotive and once again, God's voice could not be heard. Then, as Elijah wrapped his cloak around his face, covered his ears, God spoke in the silence. 1 Kings 19 11-13



In the entertainment age, our souls yearn for gratification. I-pods plug our ears; cinemas charge us nine dollars per film to escape the pressures of life; cell-phones make us feel alive and wanted. These things are not bad in themselves but when do wrap our ears in silence and wait at the end of the dark cave for the voice of God? When do we put down the instruments of entertainment and engage God on a speaking level? It may not be a physical hearing (or it may be, you never know) but the Spirit moves in front of our caves and in our lives so many times without us hearing or acknowledging. Let us be quiet.



I wrote a poem 12 years ago.



Sometimes sitting in silence is like soaking in a warm bath,
Sopping up the noiseless air, it consumes me; it gives me
a sense of weightlessness.
Close your eyes, let all other senses take control.
It's amazing what one can hear,
When eyes shut.

Silence doesn't necessarily bring sleep
As noise doesn't always bring comprehension.

Quiet is as necessary to the soul
as food is to the body.

Without both
I lose life.



Maybe, this week, cut down on the input. Leave your cell phone off for two hours at night. Try a conversation face to face with someone. Look them in the eye - smile, laugh, experience life through your senses. Then, when the quiet seems overwhelming, close your eyes and listen for a still small voice.



Who knows? God might just be following the storm, the shaking and the fire?

Cirque de Rockford

In the midst of a stormy afternoon, the girls and I trekked across town to welcome in the wonder of the Circus. The Shriners were in town; white shirted men, mostly in their 50's and 60's greeted us - welcomed us - to the Tebala Shriner Circus. The shriners were jolly; as they laughed their tassled beanies waved at us. Glittery gold, the hats shined in the lights of the big top, although the 'tent' was not made out of canvas but aluminum, like a big Morton like building.

Excitement always seems to ride high at the circus and even though I have not been to one in many, many years, I was swiftly transported to my childhood as the sounds of pseud-calliope played traditional circus music. Smells, they say, are the closest link to memory and the smells of the circus are legendary. Salty smell of buttered popcorn, cotton candy wrapped on little sticks; little children smiling with fresh gooey faces of hotdogs and candy, holding brand new unnecessary toys in their hands. There were smells of acrid sweat; it was hot - kids were hot, parents were hotter trying to keep up with the little hands tugging on their big hands, "Look at that, Mommy! See the elephants! Did you hear the lion roaring?" Ah, and the smell of the lions and tigers and elephants - oh my!

The circus can't run with out the performing elephants, or tigers, or ponies. The circus wouldn't last without the acrobats who make little children stare dropped jawed at their two story antics. The trapeze artist (who interestingly crossed herself twice before getting on to the rings) soared through the air, her hair whistling as she raced through a sea of rising bubbles. Everybody loves the performers; everybody loves the colors; everybody loves the clowns (well, almost everybody). These are the jobs that young children want to emulate when they go home. They fight over who gets to be the lion tamer and who gets to be the juggler. Leaping from sofas and sometimes the stairs, they all want to be the one that goes higher and faster.

One job, I would guess, stands very low on the list for job applications. Near the end of the show, when the elephants were about to perform on their little stools, a man came out with a large green bucket. Positioning himself behind the elephant whose posterior was roughly ten feet in the air, the man began to catch elephant droppings in mid flight. I don't know the man's qualifications for this job or perhaps he was simply on someone's "list", but talk about a terrible job. That, of course, is just my opinion. As the man would catch excrement from quite an altitude, an impassive, resigned look stayed on his face.

Not many people noticed the "Scat Man" - I'm not sure if that was his job title. Not many people paid attention to the task that he took on. Not many people, if any, would volunteer for that job, but his job, like all the others, help make the circus run smoothly. There are many jobs that are thankless and, pardon the pun, simply stink. These often thankless occupations help to make a society run smoothly. Not everyone can be the star, the idol, the power player. Not everyone holds a degree in lunar technology. Nobody aspires to be a scat man, but I want to thank the scat man for opening my eyes to life, to enjoy my work that I do, and even though their are times when life is unpleasant, those duties have to be done.

Part of enjoy life is simply realizing that Life Is a Circus. There are times when we are flying; there are times when we are falling; there are times when clowning is as natural as breathing, and there are times when we have to do the dirty jobs.

Life is a circus, my friends. Life is a circus.