Torn

This morning, arriving downstairs for my morning coffee, I found a good-sized stack of torn out newspaper articles, advertisements and other pieces of paper sprinkled around my kitchen counter. My husband has been doing that a lot lately; tearing out segments of the weekly paper for me - things he thinks I should be made aware of. I do, of course, read the paper myself, and in whole newspaper or online format (if he’s shredded it before I can get to it), but I think he thinks that if particles of articles are presented in a ripped, tattered and unconnected style, maybe I’ll just acknowledge it a little bit more. Like those speed signs that say ’19 mph Limit’ instead of ‘20 mph Limit’ - so that you take note, perhaps it’s a ploy to get me to pay attention. But I don’t speed through the paper anyway, as in a podunk town like this, it only takes about 15 minutes to read about the same thing I read about last week….or find out about the recent goring of some idiotic tourist in Yellowstone. Yup. 15 minutes….and a short conversation with the nosy neighbor and my parents, and I keep absolutely abreast of all the local news and weather forecast too!  Nevertheless, somehow my husband thinks that a crumpled and shred up mess scattered in random piles is a compelling way to spark my interest. Doesn’t he know that I like things uncluttered and organized and….well, coherent? 
       Usually, there are notes scrawled on the top or side of the piece in an attempt to indicate why that particular section has been singled out: Things like “Should we do this?” or “Very interesting” or “Please save”. Save? Why in the world would I save a snippet of newspaper? Recycle, yes, but save? Is he going to start scrapbooking now? (I’ve been told this is what happens when people get older…scrapbooking….) In that case, why doesn’t he neatly cut out those bits of writing and important dates (maybe even a little special lettuce-edging would be nice) and glue them to a fold-out display or poster board? He could color certain sections, paste on some pretty pictures and then prop that thing up right at the kitchen table, and, I guarantee, I’d take notice….(and perhaps it would satisfy his need for cutting and gluing things too). Heck, he could even highlight the really important parts for me. Or…..we could have ‘presentation’ night…..!

I wonder, is this a sign of some underlying compulsive condition? A hoarders need to clip and save everything? A regression of the faculties and a lust for kindergarten activities? Is he going to start wanting to eat dirt now too? Is it only a matter of time before I find scraps of paper and solo socks hidden in the corner of his office and stuffed into jacket pockets?

And so here is my quandary: Do I tell him this is crazy old man stuff and risk quashing some good intention, or do I just accept the insanity (whilst I struggle to make any sense of the news) and see it as simply a loving action? After all, knowing his good nature, he could just be trying to help me out because he knows (thinks) I’m so busy that I don’t have time to read that paper once a week. I love that he wants to share these slices of information with me and dispenses with such formalities as talking….. since he knows I love to read…..right? So what do I do: Speak up or shut up? Mention or muffle? Express or suppress?

I’m torn.

I Am Not Dead

            Last night at my daughter’s 8^th grade graduation ceremony, I was keenly aware of strange, subtle and sometimes lingering glances in my direction. I experienced everything from peeks of pity, to looks of loathing, and after verifying that both boobs were in place and that I didn’t have the proverbial skirt stuck in the pantyhose thing going on, I convinced myself that my perception was due to nothing but a brief flash of paranoia, or a bad mussel that I had gulped down merely minutes before. ‘Perhaps these folks have read my blog’, I thought at one point, ‘and think I’m certifiable...a wacko.’  I quickly reminded myself of a great quote from Oscar Wilde: “Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.” So there.

But then, at the reception after the ceremony, a person who is somewhere between an acquaintance and a friend clued me into the situation.

“I have to ask,…” she said. “Are you and your husband still…..together?” she prompted while displaying the two-index-fingers-together-‘buddy up’ SCUBA sign in my direction.

“Like married?” I asked, holding up my hand adorned with my wedding ring. “Uh. As far as I’m aware. Last time I checked anyway. I was just sitting with my husband and everything seemed fine….but then I’m always the last to know. Why do you ask?”

She laughed….or choked….but it sounded like a laugh. “Ah, good. I thought you should know….I’ve had several clients….people that don’t even know you hardly at all…..ask me about you or talk about you being divorced… I told them I knew nothing, but then I was concerned for you...”

Gotta love a small town.

“Well next time someone inquires, tell them to call my phone directly…..I’ll leave an updated message weekly, for those whom are so interested in my life, and avoid speculation and false rumors altogether. Next thing you know, people will be thinking I’m dead. Elvis and I both. Sheesh. “

So there you have it. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been negligent with this blog, (because I’m both overwhelmed and underwhelmed), or because someone saw me without my wedding ring (rarely wear it), but whatever the trigger, this is yet another example of our perverted and voyeuristic society - this time at my expense.

         Not to say that my love relationship hasn’t had its share of dips and ruts (a la ‘mattress trouble’), but after 18 years, whose hasn’t? The point is, it’s private - a concept that is destined to go the way of the Dodo and black and white television. The only thing that is public should be that which is publically heard from the source itself. You know, hold your horses then get your information straight from the horse’s mouth…..but don’t look in it…..before the cat gets let out of the bag prompting a cock and bull story that may send someone running around like a chicken with its head cut off on the way to the funny farm that smells like a rat. Simple. It’s one of my mottos- ‘always go to the source’, and imagine how much more sane this world would be if we all just stopped speculating, and distorting. Aren’t people tired of playing ‘Broken Telephone’ and getting caught in the grapevine?

But then we’re all conditioned and manipulated by reality television shows, youtube and live feed cameras, where the line between reality and fantasy is practically non-existent. Encouraged to pry, peep and probe, maybe our sense of respect and discretion is being bred out of us. Maybe, our concept of entertainment has finally absolutely extended beyond the television, the movie theatre, the computer, and into people's private lives....anyone's private life.  Is it because we are seamlessly connected now, that we expect to know everything about everybody? Is it Steve Jobs’ fault? Can we just blame the media…again? As I’ve asked before, I wonder if it is television and media driving our lust for intruding, or is it our lust for intruding that is driving the television and media? Whatever the case, it’s getting plainly gross.

And I don’t know how much ‘news’ I’ve watched where the anchors and experts are describing potential scenarios and undeveloped situations with astonishing verve. From computer simulations to possible future plots, so much time and energy is spent filling 24-hour news shows with fear-based and unsubstantiated information, that it’s no wonder we’re all confused and upset. We’re told to worry about things that are not happening and may in fact never happen, but that seem to lure us in anyway. It seems such a waste of power and resources that could be redirected to actual ordeals and valid and valuable events. I say, give us the info and then responsibly guide us in the current situation, not some abstract and made-up science fiction show. I realize most media bases their success on delivering a great ‘hook’, but truly, there is enough going on out here on this planet we’re destroying -Pandora (I mean Pandora’s Box) - to hook us on the now, and what to do about the now…now. Geez. Haven’t these people read any Ram Dass?

On a personal level, l have this to say:

I am not dead. I am still happily married. I do not have six toes on one foot. I am deaf in one ear, I do dye my hair and I do wear a retainer at night. I am not a spy for The Earth Liberation Front. I was once a ring girl at a boxing match, and I was de-sistered from a sorority. I am not gay. I am an environmentalist. I abhor kids running around in restaurants and, yes, I am absolutely addicted to chocolate.

“Don’t believe everything you think” – Thomas Kida