Harald

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.

Letter to Madam Empress

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…

Republican Revolution

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)

No Notes

Gee, it seems like forever since I’ve wrote anything noteworthy. Not like I’ve had time to or anything. The last few weeks have seen me at school in class or rehearsal and home completing homework assignments or sleeping. Not much time for anything else, including eating.

But it’s all paid off. The play was great… well, after the first performance. The director was steaming mad after the first one. Fortunately, I was only in the processional in the first part, and so none of her notes (when she yells at us) had anything to do with me. We were supposed to have two performances a day for three days at 9 and 11 a.m. But the 11:00 performance (the one I was supposed to be in) was canceled on Wednesday, the first day. However, a school came anyway after receiving the wrong message, so we ended up doing a show for them too. I was told to go out and take care of the kids and teachers who had come until we were ready to seat them, so I was out there trying to entertain a hundred kids all by myself. Since it was unexpected, the same cast, except for Snow White, performed again. It turned out to be kind of a chance for everyone to redeem themselves.

On Thursday, the next day, my family, along with my grandfather, Nathan, and some other families Mom invited to come, came to see the play. It was my first performance as a dwarf. It went very well. I didn’t forget a single line, and I had a lot of fun. Dad videoed most of it. Afterward, a school that was planning to put on their own production of Snow White, stayed while we showed them how our special effects and make up worked. I caught up with Mrs. Murphree, the director, later and asked if she had any feedback f”or us since we didn’t have a chance to have a meeting after the show.

“You were wonderful,” she said. “I didn’t have any notes.”

Nathan was pretty impressed. “Y’all actually looked like dwarfs,” he said. My transformation into a dwarf was a complicated one. First, I had to put make up on: a base, eyeliner, natural lipstick, and lines under my eyes and around my cheeks to make me look old and fat. Next, I would put on my costume: red baggy pants, a huge light blue shirt, slipper-like brown shoes, lots of padding, and a belt. Then came the facial hair: spirit gum above my eyes and on my face followed by bushy eyebrows and a beard. The plastic nose was next; more spirit gum held that in place. Finally, I’d put up my hair in a stocking to keep it on my head and pull my droopy hat on after that. With a pick in my hand, I looked like a bona fide Bolshevik. My grandfather, who is a semi-professional actor, was impressed that I did all my make up myself.

After it was over, I came home and finished my Religion homework and took it to school. On my over there, I felt my car jerk as I was stopped at a stop light. I looked over and saw a big truck had backed into my right rear fender. I put the car in park and got out. A black man got out of the truck, shaking his head.

“I didn’t expect to bump into you today,” I said to him as he approached. I called the police and my parents and got all that straightened out. The man was pleasant as was the police officer who came. The man offered to take me up to a body shop nearby to get it fixed, but we waited until Dad got there. Dad worked out something with the man, and then we left. I finally got to the school, but all the offices were closed, and I couldn’t turn in my papers. So all that was for nothing.

That makes accident number 6. I had one in New Orleans in August when we went to the aquarium down there. Mom was directing me into a parking space, and I foolishly kept going when she told me to. I just scratched the other car a little bit. The parking lot security guard came over and said he wouldn’t worry about it, so we took his advice and didn’t. I guess that wasn’t really an accident.

So anyway, I’m through with the play until November 12 when Snow Worf and the seven dykes meet Santa Claus at the mall. Now I actually have free time! It’s a nice feeling.

What being a Democrat means to me

I went to the college Democrats meeting today. Not because I’m a democrat. I went to see Don Womack, the candidate running against Sonny Callahan, our current U.S. representative. I like to take every chance I get to meet the people who are running for office. I went to the room where the meeting was taking place and was greeted by Dr. Schaefer (my political science professor), Dr. Hinson (my history professor), the young man who was attempting to start up the Democrat’s club, and Don Womack himself. That was it. I was the only student who showed up. And I’m not even a Democrat! We listened to Mr. Womack talk about himself for about an hour. At one point, Dr. Harwell, one of the other history professors, poked his head in the door. Dr. Schaefer invited him in. “Oh, no,” he answered.”I do not cross this line. My credibility is at stake!”

“Well, I’m a Republican,” said Dr. Hinsen. “And I’m in here.”

I came to this meeting with an open mind, ready to accept whatever this candidate had to say. But none of what he said made sense. I really got the impression that this guy was an idiot! Oh, well. No candidate should run unopposed. At one point the guy said “Nowback in the days of my grandmother, there were houses that not only did not have bathrooms, they didn’t even have outhouses! Now what the Democrats did is they came along and had outhouses built for all these houses. And to me, that’s what being a Democrat is all about.” I’m serious! I’m not making this up! He actually said this. It kind of makes me think… no, I won’t say it…

We were working on doing our scenes without scripts today at rehearsal for
Snow White. Everyone kept stepping on each other’s lines, omitting lines, and
continuing without them. Part of the problem is that a whole lot of the lines
are the same. Sleepy says “Is it time to go to bed yet?” several times.
Grumpy’s lines alternate between “Bah.” and “Mush.” And all Sneezy ever does
is punctuate the dialogue with sneezes. So it’s very easy to say your line
after the correct cue but in the wrong scene. The script was not written very
well, and that may have something to do with it.