Human Touch Screen

My husband and I take our morning walk at the same time, but separately, because he walks so much faster than I do.  One morning rain had already started when we set out.  He ended up walking around a town parking lot with me so that we would be close to the car if it began to pour.  We were joined by a friend who often walks at the same time.  I had no idea it was going to turn into a history lecture.

John is a person born before his time.  Before touch screens were invented, he was one.  Poke him anywhere, and an interesting history lesson will come out.  He said something about sailing ships near where we were walking in Stony Brook NY, which our friend Nancy questioned.  John said, “I’ve seen a picture taken about 150 years ago from across the street, showing a masted vessel tied up there.  This area was almost denuded of trees because firewood was shipped from here to New York City.”

Nancy said something about coal, and John talked about different types of coal, some more polluting than others.  Nancy thought it must have stunk.  John said, “Coal wasn’t the problem.  There is a quote of someone saying they could smell New York 15 miles to the west – horse manure.  One of two major companies had 15,000 horses in the lower half of the island, and that’s not counting horses belonging to individuals.”

You can see why I threw away our encyclopedia.  You don’t need one with John around.  The history discussion ended when lightning began to penetrate the heavy fog.

A Threat in the Village

It was after daylight savings time began and almost light enough to see the ducks in the water near the sidewalk.  I stopped to look, and when I began walking again, I saw a furtive figure slip behind a large bush in the park.  My impression was that it was a slight person dressed in white and wearing a turban.  Experts say you should follow your instincts in uneasy situations, so I was definitely on the alert.  I put my cane on notice to be ready to strike if the need arose.  I argued with myself that no Eastern foreigner would wear a white turban at 6:45 in the morning if he were up to no good.  He would be too easy to identify.  The split rail fence was another deterrent for mayhem, because it would be between me and the assailant.  My ears were focused on the leafy bush as I walked steadily forward.

Suddenly a series of fierce barks burst from the bush.  It was a little yappy dog that thought itself as big as a horse.  The rebuke was short and swift. 

“NO!” hissed the woman. 

I could see then why she wanted to shush the dog.  She was dressed in a white robe with a towel wrapped about her head.  Evidently she had come from a house across the road, letting her dog use a public bush instead of defiling her own yard.  What I did probably would not pass an etiquette test.  I smiled sweetly and wished her a good morning.  I got what was coming to me – total silence from under the white towel, a woman who wished herself anywhere but where she was.

Avian Celebration

What a raucous place the beach was just before dawn!  The gulls were wheeling about and screeching louder than I have ever heard before.  Granted, the sky was flooded with predawn light, and it was low tide.  Mussel beds were exposed, and I presume fish were visible to the gulls from their vantage point in the sky.  I was reasoning all this out to explain the extreme volume of sound when it occurred to me that it was the day before Ash Wednesday.  That’s it!  I was an observer of the seagull parade for Mardi Craw!!!!!

Public Accountants' Public Fun

Everyone knows there are millions of jokes about lawyers floating around.  I suspect there are about as many about undertakers and accountants, but people don’t tell accountant jokes in front of me.  They know I’ve worked in an accounting firm over 20 years and wouldn’t want to offend me.  I was amused that we had a real joke situation in our office.  Although we had an almost full house, four of the accountants were doing a seminar via a web cast.  It was a live program, so they were already in session when I got to work, and they took breaks only when the presenter did.  Valerie projected the screen from her computer onto a large wall so they could watch it together.  Things were fairly quiet most of the morning.  We had lunch delivered, each paying for our own meal.  It’s fun for me to be with the group.  They go out on audits together and work in close proximity to each other in the back.  I’m not usually in on the teasing, nor do I know the nuances behind private jokes.  However, I enjoy their lively conversations when they are on a break, so this was fun for me.

After lunch I kept hearing raucous laughter erupting from Valerie’s room.  I had to give Margaret some papers, so I used it as an excuse to see what was going on.

“Brent is there on the wall,” Valerie said, nodding toward the projected session.  I glanced at the dark headed speaker and saw he looked nothing like Brent, our accountant who lives in Massachusetts.  Brent had been in our office two days that week, and I knew he was doing continuing education in the city.

Valerie saw my skeptical look and said, “He really is there.  Look!  Can you tell which one is Brent?”

I looked again, seeing the backs of four men’s heads.

“Oh, Brent is the one in the lower left corner,” I said.

“How did you recognize him?” Valerie asked.  They all looked similar.

“I identify most people by the backs of their heads, because that’s the way I see them at church,” I replied.  She nodded, giving credence to my claim.  I hadn’t been out of the room more than a minute when everyone exploded with laughter again.  Shortly after that, Margaret passed my desk on her way to the kitchen.

“What is so funny?” I wanted to know.

Margaret explained that they knew Brent was at the live presentation in Manhattan, and they thought they recognized him.  I have no idea how many people might have looked at this thing, just as our people did.  It could have been hundreds.  Valerie texted Brent to see where he was in relation to the speaker.  When she knew she had him in sight, she told him to raise his right hand.  Shortly after that, they saw him bend his head, looking at his phone.  He raised his right hand behind his head, pretending to smooth his hair.  Every once in a while Valerie sent him another outrageous demand, like rub the top of your head, give yourself a pat on the back, pull on your ear, etc.  Margaret said Brent played to the camera, waving with his pinkie at them behind his head.  I have no idea if the subject interested our accountants, but they certainly paid close attention to the screen all afternoon.

Christmas Pageant 2011

The church Christmas Pageant of 2011 was one of the best yet, as far as I was concerned.  I am the organist, and usually a day ahead I am given a notebook with the script for the play.  It doesn’t matter what is written there; I won’t hear the words muttered into microphones at the other end of the sanctuary, and won’t know when to play the congregational carols.  This year the Sunday School superintendent played the only song the parents and doting grandparents were allowed to sing in the middle of the production.  The rest was karaoke!!!  The woman confided that she gets physically sick the days she has to play.  She said she took one look at the accompaniments and told the director she couldn’t possibly play the pop, syncopated rhythms called for.  I don’t know who ran the iPod, but they did an excellent job.  The superintendent, meanwhile, was struggling.  I thought that was overkill for playing “Away in the Manger”, but then I noticed she accompanied one of the teens for a solo.  She did a wonderful job, as did the boy.  She also helped direct from the side, singing and going through the hand motions.  After I saw all she did, I understood why she was nervous.

The pastor’s wife proudly showed me the new costumes several weeks ago.  I knew before she pointed to it, that the blue costume was for Mary.  I think Mary has dressed in blue since the dark ages.  Poor thing never has a choice, but she is always recognizable, even if played by the roughest tomboy in the group.  Our sheep were a frisky lot, on two feet as often as four.  I’m sure the real shepherds wouldn’t recognize their counterparts, whose costumes were a bit too designer perfect.  You can usually pick out the wise men who carry pretty boxes, but at a distance I couldn’t see if they had anything in their hands.  The angels were the ones who really looked spiffy, having just earned their new wings.  They will look more realistic next year.  The wings were useful, though, because you often can’t tell the difference between angels and choirs.  One angel’s mother took no chances on the costume.  Her daughter was dressed in a floor length white dress.

The only mistake was Pastor’s skipping over one choir piece.  We quickly jumped in at the next available quiet spot.  It wouldn’t take a wise man to know we did the right thing.  At the end, the director had each set of characters take a formal bow before exiting down the center aisle of the church while the relatives clapped loudly.  It was a resounding success.