Tag: things

On Public Showering: The Accidental Peep Show

399448096_e44472b485_zI’m jumping ahead on Funny Fridays, today.

This true story happened a few weeks ago, and it just occurred to me that it makes an amusing tale…so here goes. Why not?

If you follow this blog, you know that I got a new part-time job this summer at a winery. I manage the Tasting Room once or twice a week. It’s been a hectic summer and I worked a bunch of my weekends solid, including missing 9 Sundays of church in a row–A first in nearly two decades. More on that another time.

 This is part cautionary tale and part embarrassing antic.

BACKSTORY:
So, I’m commuting 52 miles each way and working a bunch of days back-to-back and it dawns on me, finally, to ask my relatives if I can crash at their home which is only 12 minutes away. Instead of getting home at 11:30-midnight and fitfully sleeping for 5-6 hours and driving back again 52 miles for a hour meeting, this will make everything far better.

They graciously agree, but in the process of making plans, I forget that they will actually be away during that time. But, it’s no matter to them, they extend the offer and I’m grateful for it.

ARRIVAL:

It’s dark and I use my phone as a flashlight to enter their house and the cat is none too pleased. After hissing and keeping her ears back, I greet her.

“Hi, puppy. What’s wrong?” She doesn’t think it’s funny and she disappears for the rest of my stay.

SHOWER SCENE:

I’m achy, stinky, and ready for a shower and bed, so I head upstairs. I’m brushing my teeth and getting my things prepared when I realize a bit of horror…

The window is a big one, and just a sheer curtain separates me from the rest of the neighborhood.

Um, what?

I’m on a second story stage. All light is on me. I’m about to disrobe.

Have they not realized this is optical insanity?

I suppose plenty of people never realize that if one’s house is lit and it’s dark outside, one’s rooms are on display fully. Hum. Saying “one’s” make this seem very Victorian. That’s not the vibe I was going for.

Anyhow…At night, a lit bathroom it turns into like something you would find in a red light district.

Gulp.

If I went outside buck (or doe) naked, I would have more cover than this. I look like the main event, right now.

I imagine hearing slinky music start and then abruptly shaggy men near the street start grumbling and folding up their chairs.

Boo!

Where’s the regular?

We want silver fox!

Then, I blanch as I realize who might spend occasional weekends here, no doubt showering unaware. Oh God, why!

I fight off the urge to send a quick text and have a small vomit burp.

All I have to do is get a shower and get to bed. Stay focused.

ACTION PLAN:
There’s nothing to block the window. Finally, I decide to get undressed with the light off. Dark inside + dark outside = privacy, after all. That’s my plan.

Then, I think of the cat having a good laugh at my expense.

I’ll pretend I’m Hellen Keller. No she was deaf and blind. I think I’d just do a sponge bath if that were the case. No, I’m Mary Ingalls. I can hear Laura and Pa in the next room. The cat is whispering and making them laugh.

 

Perfect. Sort of.

Oh no, how will I navigate everything when I get out without getting water everywhere, or killing myself?

Wow, it’s dark in here! What a pain! Good, god, I’ll have to tell my daughter it’s a tricky business here.

After I step into the shower I reach out and flip the light back on.
(I can’t do the entire cleaning process blind. I don’t have the skills.)

All this thinking after a long day of work. It’s no match for me.

I deliberate behind the curtain…which I’m discovering is also rather sheer.

IS this all purposeful?

Do they have a web cam in here, or what?

Is this how they plan to save for retirement? Interesting.

Nightly Showers for Harrisburg’s viewing pleasure.

(Gracious tips are appreciated. Give them to the smirking cat.)

 

Gross! I’m in a freakin’ fish bowl here.

That notion will be hard to scrub from my brain as I try to sleep, won’t it now? I think.

I finish up, flip the light back off before I step out. Careful. Easy. I could twist an ankle.

This will be a fine mess if I fall and need an ambulance, yes? Curses.

[Day dream sequence: Queue harp music.]

 

Why is it dark in here, ‘mam?

 

-Well, I’m not fond of starring in peep shows and I fell. Oh, gosh. Can you turn the light back off?

 

Sorry no. We can’t see. Oh, look, a crowd is gathering down there. Where you yelling for help?

 

-No. I think they’re regulars.

 

Huh?

[End day dream sequence]

I towel off as best as I can and sneak for my room. Oh, brother. It’s facing the same way. Big window. Again.
Lucky me, a slightly less sheer curtain blocks it. I guess. A little.

NICE! Grrrr.

So, now I crouch down and get dressed. I flick the bedside lamp on. This will have to do.
Exhausted, I collapse into bed.

 

Modesty is something I need for me, not for other people, I suppose. At my age, I’ll attract gawkers, and hardly more. And maybe it’s doubtful anyone was watching. But, who knows…the whole experience was…memorable.

 

THE TAKEAWAY

If it’s lit in your house, and dark outside, be prepared to be a viewable object, like it or not.

It’s just simple optics.

Go ahead, grab a helper and do an experiment…keep your clothes on.

You’ll see what I mean. 

Robin Williams and a sad end

robinwilliams

I want to say something substantial about the life and death of Robin Williams, but I’m still reflecting on it. It’s too big.

My brain is stumbling and stuttering on it all.

Here’s a short something that’s been percolating today and I hope to find more thoughtful things to say later. It’s just sad and it’s hard to write when I’m sad.

 

A life cut short is sad and tragic. But, a life negated (taken. i.e. in a murder of one’s self) instead of lived is incomprehensible. Incomprehensible to a healthy mind.

The instinct to live is so primal that we avoid accidents and death reflexively. A deer crosses our path and we slam on the brakes without ever thinking that we are making the choice to save our lives. We duck when we hear loud sounds.

But, too much thinking that can go badly.

Depression is illness. One that kills. It grabs hard and won’t let go. Chronic depression is like a blindness that never really ends until you do. You can get through life, but you are impaired the whole time.

Having struggled with it in fits and stages since early adolescence, I’m more devastated by the idea of depression beating Williams than I thought I’d be. I also compensated for it all by trying to be the funniest person in the room.

Eventually, I looked for healing instead. Sometimes I feel like I’ve found it, at least in part.

“[of Depression] All it wants is to get you in a room alone and kill you.” –Harvey Fierstein

May his soul be now at peace.

Dispatch from Prison: The Question I Couldn’t Answer

inmatereading

“Why don’t people from your church come and help you here? It says it the Bible to visit us…”

A man asked me this question at the end of class.
He was an inmate: a lifer.

Prison is a place of lasting aloneness. A place where you are reminded that you are forgotten.

Trying to overcome it is a big deal.

Volunteer groups are cherished by inmates like fresh air. They thank us each time we come.

I didn’t know how to answer him. I sort of felt crushed.

Not just that he would ask, but that the truth was so simple and unreachable.

He suggested I speak to my church and invite them to participate. I already had.

“It does say that is the Bible. You’re right. I don’t know….

I’m sorry,” I told him.

 

“What keeps them from coming?” another man asked.

 

“Maybe because all people know about prison is what they see in movies. Maybe they are afraid.” I said.

That comment incited and 3 page letter the prisoner brought back the next week to help convince people from our church that they were not violent and they were also Christians who love the Lord, were re-paying their debt to society, and wanted the support and Christian brotherhood.

But, nothing like that can be taken out of a prison. (It’s a felony.) He had to keep his correspondence. I thought he was going to cry when he explained that he needed to keep what he wrote. Abandonment? That was probably what I was on his face.

It’s heartbreaking.

 

But, I also wondered if some of the reasons were really a greater indictment on Christians and human nature.

• Laziness

• Lack of compassion

• Self-centeredness

• Distain for outcasts

Could this be it?

If I asked people from my church, face-to-face this time, what keeps them from being involved, they might say,

“I’m just too busy.”

Or “I’m not really interested in that (in them).”

Or, “I don’t like criminals. They deserve to be where they are and we shouldn’t make things easier for them.”

or maybe,

“I’d rather be doing two million different things than that!”

And whatever the reasons, good or not, they hamper the work of Love.

 

 

 

How-to MEASURE Maturity

(creative common photo)
(creative commons photo)

I used to think that people got better as they aged. They learned things and got more mature, and became better people.

As a kid, especially, I thought of how little I knew in comparison to my mom and dad, and other adults. I was changing and learning and growing in every way, every day–and I just supposed that growth and improvement were part of the deal in exchange for aging, and not being able to pull off wearing trendy clothes anymore and loose fitting skin.

Nope.

Now, of course, I realize that maturity has very little to do with time spent alive.

Hurts happen.

Wounds can fester.

People can grow bitter and nasty.

People can stay petty and insecure.

They can get lodged in a cell of shame and self-protect or start a habit of attacking others.

True maturity is rare.

Wisdom is a gift received through awareness and often through suffering, but it is not a pension that is received across the board and acquired like Medicare.

Time can work you over like a expert boxer works over a fresh challenger with body blows.

Nevertheless, there is a kind of measure you can employ to see where you stand.

Of course, the temptation will be to first, or more thoroughly, measure others with it. (The more the temptation to do it, or actually doing it, means what? Can you guess? Yes, the more you lack on the scale.)

 

9 Categories Measure True Maturity:

• love

• joy

• peace

• patience

• kindness

• goodness

• faithfulness

• gentleness

• self-control

Now, on a scale of 1 to 10, how are you doing?

All 10s?

 

If you’ve noticed some gains and big improvements in these 9 qualities over the last few years, you are getting more mature!

If others have noticed, you might actually be right.

If you sense some problems with a few (or more) of them, then you might be stuck in arrested or delayed development. Ultimately we all should try to grow up…

 

BUT, that’s not to say “grow old” … There’s a big difference.

The surprise twist is that a spiritually (and in all other ways) mature person usually has a youthful timelessness to himself or herself.

Mature people have a humility that keeps them in a state of learning and growing. They don’t allow themselves to take themselves too seriously or suffer from sustained flare-ups of self-importance. So, in them you see a lack of arrogance, self-righteousness, or aloof disposition.

 

What should you do if you don’t measure up?

1. Admit it.

2. Ask for help (from God and others).

3. Keep trying and learning as you go.

4. Never think “I’ve made it!” or “I’m better than someone else.”

 

 

Galatians 5:22-23

But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!

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