Posts by Jonah

1-16-95

It’s amazing to me how much Stephanie is talking Southern these days. She was the most resistant to change when we’ moved here. She didn’t like the weather, she guarded against developing an accent (and required the rest of us to do so too), and she was ready at a moment’s notice to leave home and spend as much time in Colorado as she could. Suddenly, I find her stretching one syllable words into two, she’s not real anxious to leave for foreign parts anymore, and she’s under the impression that where we live is the most beautiful spot on earth. It’s amazing what meeting the right person will do to you.

Classes seem to be going alright. I finally got a question in chemistry right today. That makes me 1 and 2. Our instructor starts at one end of the classroom and asks everyone questions, working his way down the rows. Unfortunately, I got assigned to the second row. Blasted alphabetical order. It’s a very effective way of teaching, however. If you don’t know your stuff, you’re gonna look like a fool. To
day we did dimensional analysis or some junk like that. And I thought I was through with math. We even have to have a scientific calculator for the course. I’m borrowing Stephanie’s. I had the dickens of a time finding out how to do exponents today. All those symbols all over the place. I couldn’t even find the key with the big EXP on it. He had to show me.

We had a visitor this weekend. On Friday night Dad brought home a basset hound he said had been wondering around at work. Finally, it ran in front of a truck nearly getting itself killed, so he lured it into the car and drove home. Dad’s got a real soft spot. He’s always wanted a Bassett hound. This one fit the bill. Everything about him was elongated. His body, his tail, his HUGE ears, his tongue hanging out of his long snout. The only thing that was short were his stocky legs. He was the sweetest thing, jumping up on me whenever I came in the kitchen. He was also a slobber machine, getting drool on whatever his extra long schnozz came in contact with. Mom and I got out a couple of recorders and started fluting away at some ghastly “tune.” Pretty soon the dog had joined in, making an O out of his scrunched up lips, and with eyes wide and head tilted back he let out a hoarse yet deep howl. The room would resonate with the sound until we were laughing too hard to keep playing, and the spell would break as he wagged his tail and waddled from person to person, seeking affirmation. Stephanie called him Fred after Fred Bassett in the comics. Dad made some signs and put them up on the streets surrounding his office, but he warned everyone who answered the phone not to give away any information about the dog’s appearance. It was clear he was intent on keeping the dog. Fred even got along well with our other dogs, once we finally let him outside. He thought it was great fun to play with them and afterward to collapse into sleep inside. Then on Sunday afternoon, the telephone rang. They lived near the office, and it only took a few minutes to get here. The dog’s name was actually Sam and belonged to a 13 year old boy, who was very relieved to see him. We waved goodbye as Sam looked past his huge nose out the window at us, wagging his tail.

My grandmother is improving every time I see her. It won’t be long before they’ll be discharging her from the hospital, and then we’re not really sure what we’re going to do. She’ll probably come here with us and live in Benjamin’s room. We don’t know if she’ll want to stay in Mobile or go back to Richmond, VA. Right now she still can’t talk, so we can’t ask her. We’ve had to divide up tasks for when each person is available. Between that, visiting her at the hospital, and homework, I’m not going to have a heck of a lot of free time. We’ll have to see what happens. Prayers are definitely appreciated.

12-12-94

Katie is doing great. She’s a very good horse, and Stephanie sees a lot of potential in her. We went on a trailride yesterday. I was on Shelly, and my sister was on Katie (her real name is Pink Center. Dumb, huh?). It was a LOT of fun. It’s great to have two horses so we can ride together. Katie is taller than Shelly, but she has to jog to catch up. Shelly likes to walk in front.

Nathan and Stephanie went out on a ride today across the street in a square mile of woods laced with trails. They found a great place without any holes to run. At the dinner table Nathan showed off his calf which had all his hair on the inside pulled out. He says he’d rather shave than wear riding breeches, however.

Stephanie made cookies, and I made fudge, and we decorated our tree tonight. It’s kind of leaning forward. I think that’s because the weight of all the ornaments on the front pulling it down. Since Nathan was here, we talked about all the different special ornaments and where they came from. We also got to listen to Mom and Dad tell about some of their first Christmases together. Then we practiced singing Christmas carols in harmony. I’m just getting the alto part right. We talked Nathan into singing bass. Snicker.

One day last week, the Campus Activity Board sponsered a old time photographer to come in so students could get their pictures for free. I went over there in my free hour and stood in line for about the whole time. Finally, it was my turn. I already knew what I wanted to wear. I picked up a canvas colored, floor-length (on me, at least) duster from the rack of period clothes and put it on. Next, while the photographer was developing the pictures before mine, I went over to the prop table and tied a bandana around my neck. Then I selected a gun belt and slipped it around my waist. By this time the photographer had turned his attention to me. He rearrainged the bandana and then said he wanted to put the gun belt on the outside of the duster so that it would show up better in the picture. I would have none of it. That wouldn’t be authentic, I pointed out. They always wore gun belts INSIDE their coats, not outside. When he saw that I wouldn’t budge in my convictions, he let me keep it where it was and picked out a hat for me to wear, a big, brown ten gallon hat. He set it just so on my head. Then he gave me an old carbine to hold and slipped a bandoleer over my right shoulder which was facing the camera. No, I told him, they would have worn it over their left shoulders. Yes, he answered impatiently, but then no one would be able to see it in the picture. I gave in and left it there. Put your finger on the trigger and your thumb on the hammer, he instructed me. Then he had me tilt the gun till the breech glinted. Finally, he snapped a picture of me with a condescending, not-quite-smile on my face peering out from underneath my huge hat. He had me hold the pose for a second while he made sure the picture was okay, and I cocked the gun and pulled the trigger as I aimed out the window along the crooked with age sights. Then I undressed, collected my photograph, and hurried on to English class, glancing with satisfaction down at my picture every few steps.

12-11-94

Whew.

Am I ever glad this week is over. Something due in every subject but one, two finals, and one test (which I found out about as I walked into class) added up to late nights, little rest, a lot of stress, little free time, and a heap of hard work. But you know what it’s like. Right now I’m just happy (very happy) that it’s all over with. I have one final every day next week except Tuesday and two on Friday. Nothing to worry about. I’ll take a test over a paper any day. Although papers generally are more interesting. Hmm… I’ll have to think about that. Think. That’s something I haven’t had time to do recently. I’ve been on the go since Thanksgiving break. Let’s see if I can rehash some of the events that have been so effectively consuming my time the last two weeks.

Last week was filled with Boar’s Head Festival rehearsals and performances. Along with being Stage Manager of the Second Shepherd’s Play, I was also a page, which meant that I had to wear tights and a rather short (to my liking) tunic. My duties included organizing the set change before the play. During one of the dress rehearsals, I was reaching up to pull some curtains down when a voice behind me called my name urgently.

“Joanna,” a girl was trying to get my attention, “you might not want to reach your arms over you head. Your shirt goes up.”

As I climbed off the stage another girl got my attention more discreetly. “We could see your butt.”

As pages, another fellow and I were to bring the yule log to the fire place, the boar’s head to the table, and the figgy pudding to the stage during the appropriate songs sung by the choir. The pudding was the best because we got to douse a pile of sugar cubes with lemon extract (80% alcohol) and toss in a lit match before parading around the room with it.

I could have used last weekend to catch up on schoolwork except that I spent all my time talking to a visitor from Germany staying with us. Harald is currently in Houston at the University of Texas (I think. It’s the one with the bell tower that the guy climbed up and started shooting at people from the top several years ago. I have a friend who often remarks that he thinks he’ll start doing the same thing at the University of Mobile till I point out that we don’t have a bell tower. “But you could always climb up on top of the fountain,” I say.) Dad met Harald in Sioux City, South Dakota at Mount Rushmore three years ago and invited this friendly German to visit us someday. He finally took us up on the offer on his second trip to the U.S.

He was quite entertaining. He showed a stack of about a hundred pictures of his trip across this country, staying with different people. They were of mainly simple things like mailboxes, something they don’t really have in his country. His commentary on the photos was the best part. One picture was of a sign obviously outside a health food store reading,

FAT FREE SUGAR FREE ICE CREAM.

“In my country that is all ice cream is,” he said, “fat and sugar. Why would you want to eat this? Here everything is low fat, but in Germany no one says their food is fat free. If someone wants to loose weight than he will eat less.”

He also told us about a convenience store sign he had seen on his way to our house. “It said Kountry K
orner spelled with K’s instead of C’s. In my country we are learn when we are 5 or 6 how to spell correctly. If someone had put up a sign like that where I live, people would think that he wasn’t educated. Look at that, they’d say, He doesn’t know how to spell!”

Harald also had a picture of a sign on the door of a store that said, “Help Wanted. Friendly, Happy People.”
And then under that, “We’re glad you’re here!”

“You would never see anything like this where I live,” said Harald. “How can you tell is someone is going to be happy all the time? Everyone is sad sometimes. And look at this,” he added pointing to the bottom part. “The only reason people say they’re glad you’re here is because they want your money.”

Talking to Harald was very interesting. His English is good, but I still had to make sure I used simple words or be ready to define things when he asked me to explain. He is a thinker. He talked about some of the cultural differences between our two countries.

“Your movies make the U.S. seem more liberal than it actually is. People aren’t as open about sex here than they are in Germany. But your movies are very violent; I have to cover my eyes. People get shot and die. Movies in my country are more about love and sex. Nice things. We don’t have as big a problem of violence as you do here.

He was very satisfied with his country’s health care system. “One day I chipped my tooth, so I just went to a nearby dentist I had never been to before, but I just told them my name, and they got all my information on computer, and fifteen minutes later I was in the dentist’s chair.”

Harald went to church with us that Sunday. “I’ve been to church more in the last few months since I’ve been in the U.S. than I did in the last 15 years in Germany!” And, of course, he took pictures of it. Afterward, we had a family over who’s mother was out of town. The father, one of my professors at the University of Mobile, and Harald and I spent four hours talking around the dining room table after lunch. Harald said that Americans seem to have a hard time having long conversations.

“Short attention spans,” I told him, and then I had to explain what that meant.

We got our Christmas tree today. It’s a live Lealand cypress like all the other ones we’ve had since we moved here. We’ll find a place to plant it outside after Christmas.

Mom and Stephanie just left to go buy a horse. We have one, Shelly, a probably 15 hand Arabian mare. This new horse looks a lot like Shelly except taller and thinner. Her name is Katie, and she’s a thoroughbred, about 16 hands, and really sweet, and though energetic, she’s well trained. Stephanie and I hope to go on a trail ride this afternoon.

So that’s about it here. I’m glad I finally got a chance to write a decent letter.

Dear MEL,

I’m sitting here at the computer writing this as the modem redials the Neutral Zone, avoiding writing my research paper, and munching on a brownie that Ed brought over to share with us. Yum! Nuts! Ed “also cooked” an exquisite Cajun style meal for us tonight. It was in his words, “tasty.”

I registered for classes in the spring semester today. Although I still haven’t declared a major, I approached my schedule from the point of view of a political science major and Institute for Leadership Studies minor. Here’s my schedule:

on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday
9:00 Sociology 202 Introduction to Sociology
10:00 Chemistry 101 Survey of General Organic Biological Chemistry
11:00 Chapel (only on Mondays)
12:00 Religion 321 Studies of Mission/Message of Jesus
1:00 English 202 Literary Tradition II
on Tuesday and Thursday
9:30 Philosophy 305 Philosophy, Theology, and Literature
11:00 Political Science 498 History and Politics of Modern Russia
1:00-4:00 General Chemistry Lab (only on Tuesdays)

That’s 19 hours. I feel pretty good about it. Sociology is my only elective. Dr. Schaefer, my advisor and political science instructor, encouraged me to take it saying that I was smart enough to find lots of things to disagree with, but political scientists ought to be familiar with many of the terms in sociology.

The Dr. Schaefer and Dr. Mashburn, the head of the philosophy department as well as the Institute for Leadership Studies (ILS), worked it out so that Philosophy 305 could double as an ILS course.

The course on Russia is kind of a once in a college career lifetime, so I’m taking advantage of that. It’s being taught next semester only by a lady from Russia.

I got the last card for Dr. Allums’ English class. He’ll let Nathan in if he asks; Dr. Allums has for the past two semesters.

And now for something completely different.

We programed the computer so that you would say, “Nathan, cut that out!” at quarter past and quarter till and, “I said quit it!” at the half hour. The other day, I was doing some homework on the computer when Nathan came up and started messing with me.

“Cheer up, Joanna,” he said as he pulled the corners of my mouth down. “You need to stop frowning.”

Just then it was 3:15, and suddenly, from nearby a familiar voice said, “Nathan, cut that out!” He did. It took him a second or two to figure out that the voice was coming from the computer. A little while later when he was on the Neutral Zone, it backed up its earlier statement
with the other verbal order.

We also set it up so that “Jesus wants me for a sunbeam” would play when we booted up the computer. Nathan went over and flipped it on today and was greeted by the song. “Noooooo…” he howled.

I sent Max a copy of my English research paper. The topic was “The Similarities in the Lives and Philosophies of Hamlet and Soren Kierkegaard.” It was actually kind of fun getting sources for it. These two Danes had been linked together by others before (Kierkegaard even compared himself to Hamlet), but I think that a lot of the stuff I wrote was original. Nothing had been written on it to the extent that I went, as far as I can tell. Dr. Allums seemed to like it. He said, “This is a unique paper in my experience as a teacher: a parallel study of a real man and a poetic creation who has become ‘real’ to us. You’ve written with your usual mastery and come to some valuable insights. I enjoyed this very much-” He also gave me an A.

Our school library is revamping itself, getting rid of a bunch of old books that don’t get used much. They put them out on a table in a hallway next to the religion offices for students to pick up for free. Most of them are outdated nursing texts, but I have been able to find a few gems among the rubble. I got The Naked Capitalist by whoever it was who wrote The Naked Communist and a little book on logic from an Aristotelian and Aquinas perspective. The other day I was sifting through a bunch of dry medical writings. I found a large print edition of King Lear and Cliff Notes on The Return of the Native and thought I was doing pretty good. Suddenly, I discovered a something that made me incredibly excited.

“Oh cool!” I exclaimed, “A biography on Samuel Johnson!”

A guy standing nearby stopped what he was doing and stared at me. “You aren’t kidding, are you?” he asked after a moment of disbelief.

“Samuel Johnson was THE foremost thinker of the 18th century in England, not to mention the fact that he compiled the first English dictionary,” I explained.

“That must be why you’re so great in Greek,” he added. I could tell he was a religion student. They kind of have this aura around them. Plus, he was hanging around the religion offices. Evidently, my fame has spread throughout the department.

“If there was one person I’d want to go back in time to meet, it would be Jesus and then Samuel Johnson.”

“That’s two people,” he pointed out.

“So math’s not her strong suit,” came another guy to my defense.

“There are three types of students,” I told them. “Those that can count and those who can’t.”

We did our last performance of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs yesterday at the mall. It didn’t go too badly. The set was a lot smaller than we were accustomed to, and we didn’t get to practice beforehand, so blocking was a little rough. Add to that squealing microphones, pots falling off of the cupboard, forgotten lines, our sound engineer missing both music cues, and Santa coming on stage in the middle of “The Night Before Christmas” instead of the end and we weren’t real pleased with the result. But the Mall People seemed to be, and that’s what mattered. After the first performance at noon, we had until 3:00 to get lunch and wait around. I tore off my beard and nose, but I only had one pair of eyebrows, so I left those on. We walked around the mall like that, still wearing our makeup. People would look at us and tell their children not to stare.

After some of the dwarfs/girls caught sight of their reflections in a mirror at The GAP, we headed back to the empty storefront that served as our dressing room and didn’t emerge again until the next performance. The second one went fairly well. Unfortunately, Sneezy forgot to sneeze at one point and left Grumpy without her cue. My line was next, so after a moment I went ahead and gave it. I got to be the one who looked bad.

Afterward, we went to Melissa Lindquist’s house for supper. She is the daughter of one of the founders of Integrity Music, Ed Lindquist. Their family has eleven children including one that is about a week old. Lynn Lindquist was still in bed, but she told us all about home birth when we came in to see the baby. Melissa and I both homeschooled and entered the University of Mobile together. All of the Lindquist kids homeschool. I was surrounded by them when I first walked in. The thirteen year old twins wanted me to join then in games of poker and ping pong, the little ones were constantly hanging on me, and the middle kids wanted me to come bicycling with them. “You can ride the mountain bike!” There’s nothing like riding at breakneck speed through a forest in pitch darkness with a bunch of crazy boys zig-zagging all around you, asking if you want to play chicken. I loved every minute of it. Especially when they started pumping me for every joke I knew. “Tell another one!”

Well, I just thought I’d write you a letter. I started it back a couple of weeks ago and have been adding to it since then. Although I’d like to, I don’t know if it’ll work out for me to come out during Christmas break. But then I wasn’t expecting to stay an extra long time this summer either…

Hello out there in computer monitor land!

I just got back from a fall break to remember. I just spent three wonderful days up the Appalachians. My family picked Nathan and me up at college after English class on Friday and drove to Montgomery, where we got some barbecue at our favorite restaurant. I drove the stretch into Atlanta and then on up North Carolina. The mountains were socked in, and I had to maneuver carefully within the fog. Finally, we reached the top, and the road was clear the rest of the way to Highlands and my grandfather’s chalet. It was past midnight when we arrived, but we made it in record time.

“That’s because,” Nathan told my grandfather, “Joanna was driving.”

The electricity was out (most likely due to the two weeks of proceeding torrential rain that had fallen), so we scrounged around for some candles. Then we walked up the driveway to the next house and climbed out on their deck. (Nobody was home. At least, I hope not.) From there we could see for miles over rows of mountain ranges, separated by valleys filled with mist glowing in the moonlight.

The next day we slept in. Then we visited all the local waterfalls. Next we had a picnic at a place where a lake used to be and hiked a trail up a small ridge. The weather was wonderfully cool, the leaves brilliant. We stopped by a rushing river, and climbed around on the rocks while my grandfather drove into town with a guy who locked his keys in his car. I smashed, mangled, etc. my finger when I slipped and landed on it. Well, it wasn’t that bad, but it sure felt like it, and it bled like crazy. Good thing I was next to a freezing river, I just stuck my finger in the water whenever it hurt and waited for it to numb.

Sunday we hiked up Mt. Satulah, which is right out of our mountain house’s front window. Up top is an amazing view. Next we drove down to the town of Cashiers and ate at a delicious sandwich shop. After that we hiked a short trail to Silver Run, a beautiful, secluded waterfall that empties into a pool. I climbed up to the top of it and leaned out over the edge, hanging onto a branch. Nathan was at one end of the pond and Dad was at the other. I waved down at everyone, and both pointed at me and mouthed something that looked like
With the roar of the falls, it was impossible to hear anything, so I just laughed and posed for a picture that Mom took.

Monday we hiked a bit up a nice level trail and then went over to the iron bridge that spans a river. We walked up-stream a ways and had a picnic. That evening we went up to the top of Sunset Rock and built a fire (it kept going out on account of inferior wood and meddling hands) and roasted hot dogs and marshmellows while watching the sun go down. Nathan, Stephanie, Benjamin, and I stayed up longer after the grownups returned home until the fire dwindled into embers.

Tuesday morning we accompanied Nathan to the Wee Shop. (I kept singing the Wee Wee song.) There he discovered the tartan for Bailey and bought the appropriate plaid scarf and standard pin for his mom. We left that afternoon and drove down to Atlanta where we ate at the Hard Rock Cafe, got panhandled coming and going to the car, and saw a pair of guys walk out of a restaurant and down the street holding hands. Nathan freaked out. I’ll take the country over the city any day. We listened to the taped version of Cardinal in the Kremlin, which kept us awake long enough to get home at 1:30 a.m.

So that’s what I’ve been up to. Michele and Ed are visiting us right now. Michele and Stephanie came to English class with Nathan and me, and Ed went with Dad and Ben to look at trucks today. Tomorrow we are planning to go to the beach.

I registered for classes in the spring semester today. Although I still haven’t declared a major, I approached my schedule from the point of view of a political science major and Institute for Leadership Studies minor. Here’s my schedule:

on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday
9:00 Sociology 202 Introduction to Sociology
10:00 Chemistry 101 Survey of General Organic Biological Chemistry
11:00 Chapel (only on Mondays)
12:00 Religion 321 Studies of Mission/Message of Jesus
1:00 English 202 Literary Tradition II
on Tuesday and Thursday
9:30 Philosophy 305 Philosophy, Theology, and Literature
11:00 Political Science 498 History and Politics of Modern Russia
1:00-4:00 General Chemistry Lab (only on Tuesdays)

That’s 19 hours. I feel pretty good about it. Sociology is my only elective. Dr. Schaefer, my advisor and political science instructor, encouraged me to take it saying that I was smart enough to find lots of things to disagree with, but political scientists ought to be familiar with many of the terms in sociology.

The Dr. Schaefer and Dr. Mashburn, the head of the philosophy department as well as the Institute for Leadership Studies (ILS), worked it out so that Philosophy 305 could double as an ILS course.

The course on Russia is kind of a once in a college career lifetime, so I’m taking advantage of that. It’s being taught next semester only by a lady from Russia.

I got the last card for Dr. Allums’ English class. He’ll let Nathan in if he asks; Dr. Allums has for the past two semesters.

After reading Hamlet and watching three versions of the play (including Mel Gibson’s), I was ready for a diversion before writing my paper on it. I found just that in the movie Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. I would highly recommend it to anyone who has had to read perhaps Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy. If, however, you have not, it really won’t make any sense.

I stayed up till four a.m. Sunday, got three hours of sleep, and went to class Monday and turned in my English research paper on “The Similarities Between the Lives and Philosophies of Hamlet and Soren Kierkegaard.”

I think I did okay. I had to make a couple of last minute correction with some borrowed white-out before class started.

It was actually kind of fun researching for it. I found out a lot about Kierkegaard. He was pretty cool. He is considered the father of existentialism (don’t ask me what it is; I’m not really sure), yet he was a devout Christian. One of my favorite quotes is when he says that, when someone thinks himself least religious,
Q at that moment he is actually most religious.

Kierkegaard’s life was a lot like Hamlet’s, but the most striking similarity is that “To be or not to be…”
is essentially existentialism in its basic form. As I handed my paper to Dr. Allums telling him what my topic was, he remarked that he thought Hamlet was the first existentialist. So I guess I was right on track.

Although Kierkegaard compared himself to Hamlet and others have expounded on this topic, I came up with more stuff on the subject than I’ve seen in any other source. It’s neat to feel like I’ve written something original. But it any case, I’m glad it’s done with. Now I just gotta get it back and see what Allums thinks about it.

I’m still trying to catch up on sleep, so I’ll leave off on the storytelling until I have some more time.
Hope this hasn’t been too boring.

Jonah
(the one who’s been watching the Republicans win big tonight)