Etchings in the Sand…

One of the agonizing aspects of growing up as a child of Liberal Education is the hunger planted within the soul by good teachers and fine books to keep on growing, stretching, learning. It never stops.

This morning I read a review of the new production of MacBeth in NYC and the hunger to see it was almost painful. Maybe these Englishmen will come to Phoenix?

But to the point, there are several books by and about Shakespeare on my bookshelf, awaiting my studied attention. They sit together watching and waiting like friendly, hungry dogs in the morning.

And the same is true of the works of Charles Dickens – placed, of course, right next to Shakespeare.

I can easily attribute these addictions and the unfinished business that goes along with them to classes taken and enjoyed at Transylvania University and Vanderbilt University decades ago. Across the years they have been periodically tasted and chewed upon – in bits and pieces – without losing one bit of their fascination. And, most interesting of all, there has been no visible purpose, use or goal in the reading of them. Just a wonderful hunger.

And that grand sense of having been in the presence of greatness when the books were finished, relished and put aside.

It never dies.

I tossed a beef brisket in the slow cooker the other day, trying out a promising new recipe. It was simple enough. Had a can of tomato soup and a package of dried onion soup mix in it and, of course, simmered slowly all day long. The recipe called for two tablespoons of balsamic vinegar and two tablespoons of brown sugar to be added to the “pot liquor” at the end of cooking time.

To get to the heart of the story, by the time the beef was fork-tender and before adding the final touches, I tasted – and it was horrible. Too acid, too tomatoey, too skimpy. I was ready to toss it. But cooler heads prevailed.

I added the final touches and let it go a bit longer.

To my amazement, about half an hour later another taste revealed one of the most delightfully flavored briskets imaginable. We made up some mashed potatoes and peas to make the meal complete. It was a wonderful meal.

The moral of this story – and my reason for sharing it – is not to judge things or people before they have a chance to play themselves out a bit. Give the pot the benefit of the doubt before shutting it down.

The internet connection where we’re staying keeps dying and consequently I have lost my freshly written blog!

Hope to have it fixed by tomorrow! Sorry.

I read this morning that new government statistics indicate an increase of 20% in the suicide rate among American veterans of the current wars. That is, compared to statistics of just one year ago.

This should be unsettling to all citizens of the United States.

20% !

Now, here’s an interesting thought that came down today.

Dating

“There is no more inauthentic period of life than dating.”

-Dan Allender :: Professor, Psychologist, and Man. Who. Speaks. As. If. Every. Word. Is. Its. Own. Sentence.

This from: http://www.thelongbrake.com/blog/2008/01/28/dating/

If you don’t check out anything else today, do look through this slide-show.

http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=9f5b8e38d1&attid=0.1&disp=vgp&view=att&th=117bd53df9877c7c