As I See It

When was the last time you visited the land of child, just to remember the view? You know the land I am referring to: where Oz and Narnia are not distant fantasy worlds, but home. It is the land of simple imaginations, laughing uncontrollably, and longing for adventure. The air is heavy with mystery, but somehow always sweet. Sure there are fears and villains, but you always triumph over them. Then there is the ever pressing desire to leave, expand your horizons to find the bigger world somehow. It is only when we cannot get back there that we realize what we have left behind.

I like to joke with people that I reside in this wonderful world more than in my own, but mostly, it is just my imagination that does. I recall the ideas of a childlike mind with astounding clarity and insight. My personal writing style lends itself to the fantastic, supernatural or dreamy. Whimsy is my close friend and wonder my confidant. But the truth is, finding my way back to Neverland has proven rather challenging.

This week I was in California for a wedding. The ocean was gloriously clear and blue, all while being slightly ominous and disconcerting. I was suddenly aware of my tininess, or of the vastness of the Earth around me, not sure which. There was a sense that I could stand there, watching wave and smelling sea for hours, and yet, somehow I felt myself turning to the next thing, the next sight, the next activity. The shear joy of this experience was cut short by my own expectations, by the world around me that screams constantly “move”.

Later in our trip we had the option to go to Disneyland. Let me preface this by saying, that I own and frequently watch (alone, with popcorn, singing blissfully out of tune) a number of classic Disney animated films. Part of me lingers in those movies. They were there in my childhood, carrying me through some wonderfully challenging growing pains. They bring a smile to my lips and often tears to my eyes. There is something inherently more real to me in those stories than in anything I have viewed in my adulthood.

So, needless to say, I was thrilled to visit Disneyland. We got there just after lunch, paid for our tickets (ouch, not cheap) and grabbed a map. I am an organized person, often leaning on structure and order to prevent me from feeling uneasy. I like to know how I’m going to get there, which is the opposite of most kids, who prefer to know when, with little care for the in between. This goes to the very heart of why as a child, we were constantly wishing we were grown, unaware that the journey is where all the fun is.

I felt like a little girl, walking through the castle; posing with Walt and Mickey; hopping on the carousel, up and down, up and down, breeze and smile. Then, on to the next ride. I have a knack for cutting through a crowd without being touched and leaving my companions far behind, this comes from years of trying to avoid physical contact from strangers. My husband was constantly reminding me of this as I marched toward Toads Wild Ride or loped in the direction of the Matterhorn. At one point he caught me by the shoulder and looked me square in the eyes, “We’re on vacation, not a mission.” I strangely felt like I was. How was I going to squeeze in everything so quickly, I was torn between savoring the moment and not missing anything.

Upon first examination this may seem like the reaction of a grown-up, and were I doing it to just get out of there, just get on with it, maybe it would be. However, if you’ve ever been anywhere with a child, that they actually want to be, they race through it, gathering up every ounce of visual stimuli and capturing the entire experience in one fail swoop. It is only when they are sure they are not going to miss anything that they slow down or go back.

I think I often try to be childlike just by being whimsical and wide-eyed, by being impressed or being hopeful. By dancing to my own drum or watching an animated film. I am someone who is proud of my connection to kid-land. Happy to be there, wish I could stay. But, as I look at the Disneyland experience, one thing becomes clear: I am neither child nor adult. Neither drawn to one world more than the other. I can find my way in my imagination to that magic that allows my creativity to soar, but I will never be able to stay there. Nor should I. There is life to be done and choices to be made.

So, maybe I will stay a while on the sand, watching the waves and savoring a few moments away. But I must return because the most childlike thing of all is not missing what’s going on in the here and now, and not stopping until you’ve done it all. I’ll always have Neverland, but it isn’t “the second star to the right, and straight on till morning”, it’s in me. And you too, if you are willing to look.

This weekend, as rain and wind blew in from Ike down south, I went to go see a movie that was expected to be clever and funny. I sometimes like a movie in spite of myself . Often I feel moved or compelled to enjoy a film just because I have decided before hand that I am going to like it. I had a glimmer of this as I sat in my seat to view the Coen brother’s new film, Burn After Reading. I had an expectation going in of what the movie would be like, of how amused I would be or how intrigued I would feel. However, those expectations were soured as the reality of the movie became clear.

It wasn’t one aspect of the movie, so much, that turned me off, but the composite of a bunch of things put together. To begin with, you will hear a lot of positive feedback about this movie(for the most part critics love it), but I am not convinced that is because of the film itself, but rather that every Coen Brother’s movie of recent history has been raved and well-received. The movie follows, bizarrely at times, the intertwining lives of a group of narcissistic federal workers as they collide with unexpected black mailers from a local gym. I, frankly, am not 100% sure what the movie was even about half the time. Was is about the ridiculousness of the American government? Did it mean to poke fun at those we trust with our National Security? Was it merely a statement on how ignorance can lead to disaster? These are questions I will never know the answer to, because, honestly, I’m not sure the filmmakers know.

John Malkovich plays the angry, drunken Osborne Cox, who is at the middle of this ever-swirling pot of insane, selfish characters. The film begins with him being fired, cursing his institution, and leaving to write his “memoirs”. His wife, a harsh and severe doctor, chastises him and tells her lover(played by George Clooney) she wants out. Clooney, a sex addicted perv, seems intent on one thing only: having his cake and eating it too. Through a series of unfortunate events(that hardly make sense), two employees at Hardbodies gym(Frances McDormand and Brad Pitt) get a hold of a disk containing what they ridiculously assume is valuable intelligence belonging to Osborne Cox. McDormand’s character, Linda Litzke, is single, obsessed with getting plastic surgery, and frankly, a little slutty. She and Chad(this would be Pitt, who is my only bright spot in the whole movie) begin to foolishly blackmail Cox. All goes straight to hell and thus supposed genius is born.

I won’t tell you how the film comes together, or why I lost interest towards the end. Should you decide to see the movie, I’d hate to ruin it for you. Be prepared for shocking, unnecessary violence. I usually think that violence is more effective when you don’t necessarily see it, but the Coen Brother’s do not agree with me, and make it very clear in this film. Besides that, the film is filled with cursing to rival most. It annoys me how supposedly intelligent, educated people, seem to have such a limited vocabulary. But beyond those two elements there are strange, surprising sexual scenarios that may have disturbed me more than the language and violence combined.

Maybe it was my own fault that I did not enjoy this film. Maybe I should have known or expected it to present the way that it did. But, I have a tendency to still want cinema to be, I don’t know, clever, pretty, saying something real. I would say NO to Burn After Reading, not because it was like watching the toilet bowl flush, but because it’s not a real movie. It is pointless, empty, violent, and frankly, not even that funny. Brad Pitt is humorous, engaging, and sympathetic, but he is not in the movie long enough to make up for everything else. Don’t go see it, but if you do, be warned: you view at your own risk.

One day I could not take it anymore. I had to do something. Maybe it was seeing WALL-E for a third time, or maybe it was watching the trash bins overflow with recyclable materials while I touted my greenness, that pushed me over the edge. I examined the amount of time I spend at my job in comparison to the amount of time I am home where I am devoted to the habits of recycling. I am at my office considerably more, throwing away bottles, paper, cardboard, etc. So, I decided, why not do something about it?

Now, this was easier said than done. The first few days I wrote a little sign up that said “PLEASE RECYCLE”, stuck it to a cardboard box and planted the box conspicuously in the break room. I searched the office for recyclables, threw them in the box, and went about my day. But I was the only one doing it. Sure the box filled up, however, that was due to my rampant searching and not the efforts of my coworkers. This annoyed me, but, I thought, “OK, maybe if I make a more serious effort they will take notice.”

I went out that evening and purchased (with my own money) a trashcan and some recycled garbage bags. I took it in the next day, printed a detailed sign of the kind of materials that can be recycled, and set it up on top of our dishwasher where everyone could see it. OK, round two was now in effect. Some of my coworkers seemed enthusiastic about this new option. Talking really big about how much they recycle at home, and how important it is. I was understandably skeptical, but hopeful nonetheless.

The end of the day came, and, for the most part, the bin was full. Now, I had followed people around telling them “that cup is recyclable”, “don’t drop that bottle in the trash”, “seriously, you’re throwing away paper?”. However, they had eventually gotten the idea. So, I was standing in the kitchen, washing out the coffee pots and talking to the Office Manager about recycling, when her daughter entered (who also works here), dropped her can in the trash and kind of gave me a sideways glance. For the most part, she is an OK person. I even have on occasion enjoyed talking to her. This, however was not one of those times.

She asked me why I was “doing this recycling thing”. I told her that it was something that was important to be conscious of and that everyone can make a difference, even if it was a small one. She kind of laughed and responded, “Well, you’re just one person, you can’t make it better.” She walked off. I fumed, shoved the coffee pots back in the coffeemaker, and pulled her can out of the trash.

I wasn’t mad simply because she was deliberately trying to spite me, or that she was that selfish and stubborn. I was frustrated by the ignorance in her statement. I was surprised someone could be that sure and also be that wrong.

One reason for this global epidemic, and the sudden push for people to conserve, reuse, is a result of the notion that ONE person has no affect. If every ONE person did their part to leave a greener stamp on the world, we would see a difference.

I know that the earth is perishing around us. It is not destined to get better, but I do not see the purpose in being wasteful with what we have left either. I may never be able to change the mind of that girl, and I will not kill myself trying, it is her loss that she can’t comprehend why I am doing this “recycling thing”. But to say your effort doesn’t matter really isn’t any different than to say your vote doesn’t count. It isn’t about peace and love; I’m not a hippie. But I love God’s creation because it is his. I hate seeing the beauty of his design vanish as a casualty of progress.

Be the change, one person at a time. I will keep trying with my office, talking about it to anyone who asks, and searching for newer, cheaper and better ways to live a little greener. Start small, that is the best kind of beginning.

Here is a link to the City of Denton recycling website: City of Denton. It gives info about what kinds of things you can recycle, as well as tips and links to some programs the city provides such as toxic waste removal (household cleaners, detergents, etc.).